Turns Out My Last Brick And Mortar Supplier No Longer Carries One Of The Essential Pieces That I Need

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Gabriel (Good Omens), Metatron (Good Omens), Sandalphon (Good Omens), Michael (Good Omens), Hastur (Good Omens), Uriel (Good Omens), Ligur (Good Omens), Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub (Good Omens), Brother Francis (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth (Good Omens), Background & Cameo Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Fights, Drinking, Concussions, Hereditary Enemies, Francis is not Aziraphale, Nanny is not Crowley, Vomiting, couple of eff-bombs, delayed medical attention Series: Part 6 of Nanowrimo 2019 Summary:

Because I really like hockey. Ever season, i sit there, cheering on my team, wondering what my current fixation would look like as a hockey team. This year, it's Good Omens.

And, because it's me, it's also written for the prompt 'secret injury' At this point, this is a one shot. but i reserve the right to come back and play later.

17. Sacrifice

Kidd - 18 | Killer - 22 | Heat - 23

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Food Issues coming up again

yeah, all these assholes had some kind of eating disorder at one point

vague references to starvation, overeating, and eating rotten food

Killer struggles to throw rotten food out

Kidd does too but actually manages to go through with it

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Kidd had slept though breakfast - which was not unusual for him - and had wandered down to the galley to pilfer a snack as Pomp & UK cleaned up after the meal. And if Killer was not to busy prepping for lunch, to get the man to make him something personally.

And he planned it perfectly it seemed, because Killer was indeed standing causally at the kitchen counter. He had his notebook out; Killer had his own means of how his thought a kitchen should be run, but so far there's been no real complaints and everyone been well fed. Killer's seasoning work was hit or miss, seeing as he wanted to try every mix or herb or spice with very little experience to back it up.

But it had flavour, and the flavour wasn't penicillin.

At the moment, Killer was repeatedly tapping the pen against the counter in his right, studying something in his left.

"What's up?"

"Its gone bad..."

Kidd paused, looking at his first mate in confusion. He thought Killer was doing meal planning, or inventory or something. That 'gone bad' was a problem, but Killer's voice was distant and almost a little lost.

"How bad?"

Killer's head turned slightly, and he lifted his hand up enough for Kidd to see he was holding a jar of something. He was unreadable behind the mask for most, but Kidd could tell it was worse then the normal stoicism he like to pretend he had once it was on... This was a different quiet - like he was stuck.

Kidd came over to peer into the jar, Killer tilted it to him to see. It was a jar of fruit preserves, still about a third full. The jam itself looked fine, but the sides had begun to grow over with soft wispy mold.

"Do we have more?"

"Different fruit, but yeah."

"The other one still good?"

"Still sealed, so it should be fine."

Kidd made an executive decision then, and took the jar and table knife from Killer.

Killer handed both other with no hesitation.

Kidd left the galley.

Every part of him was trying to get him to turn back around - they could spoon out the bottom still, that was at least four more sandwiches at the bottom. Six if they were for some of the smaller members of the crew. And they had a big crew right now - nearly thirty strong and almost all of them having run with at least one of the four commanders back on the island.

Thirty mouths, at least three times a day. Figuring in the night squad, Killer was feeding a platoon of people four times a day, a meal of some kind on the table every 6 hours. UK had been stepping up and assisting him so the man didn't burn out, familiar enough with Killer to navigate his idiosyncrasies without stepping on any toes. And House, Mosh, Pomp, and Disc J had stepped up from the other gangs to form the Punks' mess hall squad. But it was still thirty people.

It didn't matter how well stocked they were, there was always that fear that the next time they turned around, the pantry would be empty. They'd all grown up with it, all of them living through days of not being sure where the next meal was coming from. Years of getting their hands on just enough food to make it to the next day but never enough to stop feeling hungry.

Kidd contemplated the jar again once he stepped out on deck, an uncertain shadow named Killer trailing behind him. They'd all made themselves to sick in those early days, dropping obscene amounts of money at taverns in those first few ports. They had no idea what shit was worth once off the island, nor had they cared, eating themselves well past the point of sick. It had taken them all the way to Reverse Mountain to finally start to get a handle on things and Heat had worked with Killer, the two making remarkable progress getting everyone on responsible eating habitats.

Still didn't mean there wasn't severe hang ups lurking under the surface.

Heat had been making his way the crow's nest for his shift, and paused to watch the two of them. Watched the jittery way Killer followed. Watched the jar in Captain's hand.

Kidd stood at the railing, touching the 'good' jam at the bottom with the table knife. Six people! his head was screaming, and he was surprised how hard to was to finally stir it up, loosening the jam and mold both, mixing them. Inseparable. Before he could think about it, he upended the glass, shaking it until the jam fell loose and into the sea.

He could feel Killer tensing up even without looking at him. He did met Heat's gaze though, the man doing his best to look nonchalant to hid his interest.

He continued to hold Heat's gaze as he handed the empty jar back to Killer. "We don't do that no more. As long as I'm Captain, we will never go back to that."

He looked at Killer then, "If in doubt, throw it out. You don't serve rotten food to my crew," His voice softened, "and you don't eat anything that's gone off ever again. You hear me?"

"Aye Captain." Killer murmured, taking the jar, shoulder's slumping as he lost tension; The responsibility of the choice taken from him.

contrition

30. Tears

Kidd - 17 | Victoria 22

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Victoria's death

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He knows her.

Well.. he knew her.

Kidd stares at the body, still partially buried in garbage.

Hip and Hop are quiet behind him, solemn and still.

Its bad enough someone murdered this woman. Then they brought her out to his turf and threw her away.

Like trash.

Before Kidd took over, bodies got dumps in the Heaps all the time. He'd put a stop to that years ago.

But then someone decided that they could waltz in and do as they liked. Very few had the egos for it. Only one group on the island still  willing to openly disrespect him like this.

It wasn't just that it was a body. It wasn't just some poor soul that was discarded to prove a point.

But that was Victoria.

It had been four years. Last time he'd seen her she'd been so upset she'd left crying, and never looked back.

He'd never shed a tear for her leaving.

He's shedding them now.

Compo had gently taken his elbow, as if to lead him away. He jerks himself free, stumbling closer to the body.

They brutalized her, her face bloody, body broken. Her neck is broken, deep dark marks, a solid thick line left by a belt. Burned her and cut her and broke her. Stripped her bare and threw her away.

He's struggling out of his coat, tries to cover her, give her some dignity back.

"Boss," Boogie is murmuring at his side - no ... above him... as Kidd sinks to his knees. He doesn't know what to do; He can't do anything. She's already dead.

Kidd looks over the scrapyard, the Heaps, His Realm. His Domain. And none of that mattered, because Victoria is dead and nothing he's accomplished stopped it from happening. Nothing he's done will keep the next person from being thrown away by Kutsukku's undercity.

He looks to the city, taunting him, just as tall and imposing as it's been his whole life. Mocking him with things he's never allowed to have. Things it's gladly ripped away from even it own people - not because they've done something wrong - but that they've gotten in the way of the boss' games.

Kidd's going to burn it to the ground.

Sorry babe but if me saying I use "any and all" pronouns stresses you out, that's honestly a you problem. It's not my job to pick a "true" or "most preferred" pronoun for you to call me by when my preference is, in fact, use everything chaotically and change it up often.

If you want to ask for clarification on how I'd like various pronouns used, that's fine. But saying to my face "ah I always get stressed about any pronouns - what do I call you"? Just rude tbh. I told you my preference, figure it out. It/they/he/she/xe/zir/fae/rat/bitch/ass/motherfucker I don't care, it's not my problem.

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

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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​

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

Another very specific rec list of fics keeping Tawny sane while work sucked.

Yes, yes, I am writing this when I should actually be working.  Thank you all for my self-care routine and giving me some serotonin these last couple of months.  

New Horizons, Old Troubles @unproblematicme Pirates and omegaverse! Sexy and swashbuckling. That’s all you need to know. And Newt is the hero we all deserve. 

Over the Sea @redundant-angel Angsty and sweet South Downs Cottage fic.  I love a fic where they still have to work through things for their HEA and this is handled beautifully. Plus the weather and scenery is so atmospheric. 

Blow out all the candles @teslatherat I love a historical au and the detail in this is lovely and engaging.  It’s so sweet and hopeful. Victorian Rent Boy Crowley falls in love with a client….

The Rite of Falling @contraststudies and @teslatherat Beautifully written. Beautiful art work.  And I love the characterisation, and the way the pacing builds the pressure.  A wonderful priests au. I’m biting my nails over my this and swooning by turns. 

Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark by @mekachu04 with art by @wargoddess9 I just found this! set in cannon and the premise is amazing, and it is so sweet and sexy and lovely.  I want to eat it with a spoon. 

In our own strength confide by hapax.  A second fic I love that addresses how they both deal with their trauma and their freedom.  Beautifully insightful character study of both of them. Also angry Aziraphale is very good. 

The Fabric of your Hair @saretton Sooooftttt.  I love it. So tactile. And just, gah, the yearning, the yearning. Hairdresser Crowley and Tailor Aziraphale stealing touches where they can. Read it and bring a fainting couch. 

Divine restorations and repairs @sylwritesstuff and skimmingthesurface  Just started this, and think I’m possibly the last person on the planet to get to it, however the characterisation is fantastic. The detail that has gone into the world building is so immersive.  I can’t even…..Beautiful, beautiful….

Sanctuary by @leilakalomi  This is an exquisitely crafted Hunchback of Notre Dame au, and powerful and I am still in awe of how Crowley is portrayed so well in Aziraphale’s pov.  It’s wonderfully done. 

And safe for aye, may my darling be @naromoreau and @gayforgoodomens  Celts vs Romans, except the two who fall in love, obviously. This fic will kill us all.  You have been warned. 

Doodles from the last week. I might clean some of them up and scan them properly but ive always been bad at that part... pencil sketch is my strong suit.

I also have about 25k of fanfic of these losers(affectionate) typed and 50 pages of untyped fic in my notebook from this month. I wasn't joking when i said the creativity dam burst recently. There's also more doodles in that notebook too.

hikaru-9 and me found a crack in the universe in the Utah Salt Flats