#her weapon is her cigarett holder
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Hi! Who do you need me to kill?
She's very happy go lucky and energetic bird, and will often get touchy with people she like hugs, holding on the shoulder, ext
She has a very 1920's fashion choice, often she's seen with a red cigarette holder taking drags of it often
Her very first kill was at the young age of 9 whare she planed a log trap to kill one of her bullies, ever since then she's always been willing to kill, often eating chunks of the poor victims who die to her hands
Her favorite weapons to use are throwing and normal knifes, altho she is good with swords and pistols
She works under @mafia-bun along side @butlerbugbunny as Buns workers
If you want to go to my main blog got to @noisette-sweete :)
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Lucian Archie Bane
Name: Lucian Archie Bane
Nicknames: Luci, Luci Lu, LuLu, Lu, and LuLu Lemondrop
Birth Date: 03'11
Birth Place: Hell (Pride Ring)
Star Sign: Pisces
Race: Demon/Angel
Occupation: Striper/Hooker/Pornstar
Status: Alive
Age: 28 (Looks)
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He.His.Him and They/Them
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual & Polyamorous
Height: 5'5
Weight: 150 (depends)
Skin Tone: Caramel Tan
Hair Colour: Ebony Black, With Pastel Icy Sky Blue fading to Indigo Puprle for the bangs
Hair Style: shaggy mullet, down to his ankles, and scene/emo bangs
Eye Colour: Pastel Icy Sky Blue
Eye Shape: siren
Features: freckles all over his body, and a heart shape beauty mark under his right eye, a clover beauty mark on his left upper hip, and a rose beauty on his back side (upper right hip)
Weapons: Double Swords and Scythe
Skills:
Abilities: Neon Green fading up to neon blue with gold sparkles (Shadow Flame) and Magic
Last Resort: Potions/Weapons
Strengths: Is knowledgeable and fast. Can fly and shapeshift
Feats: is to afraid to show his true form and use his real powers.
Weakness: Wolfsbane and Silver
Family: Chaos and Nyx Sterling
Love Interest: Castiel (His Contract Holder.) (Not actually in Love)
Crush: Adam (First Human/Man) & Lucifer Morningstar
Enemies: Lute & other angels
Lucian Bane's Backstory:
Lucian was born in hell because of his mother, Nyx. (Who is the Demon/God of: Darkness/Abyss) She was once married to Chaos, the creator and the destorier. She birthed Lucian and his twin brother Nova. Nova became born angel fronting. And second form demon. Lucian was born fronting as a demon. The second fronting was angel. Lucian doesn't get along with the angels as much as the demons. The angels find him an obamnation and tainted. That he is bad blood. And he should be killed. But the demons don't care as much. But they do ignore him depending on the demon.
Lucian most of his life played alone and did his own thing. Being a hellborn also means watching others be killed by other demons or angels. It was annoying and very upsetting. He hated how it was. But probably at that age couldn't really change anyone's mind. So he kept it to himself.
As Lucian grew up learning how Heaven and Hell actually was. He didn't trust anyone. Not even his mother's new husband. Which was whatever. He could take care of himself as he always did. Just because he lived with his mother and her servants caring for him. Doesn't mean he can't do anything on his own. And take care of his business alone. He didn't ask for help. At least outloud. He was alone a lot. And that made him realize no one can hurt him that way.
Lucian did end uk making mistakes. Falling into an angel's trap. His name is Castiel. Who has male skin, crimson red eyes, and long blaxk hair to his shoulders. He was an Arch Angel. Who has with black wings with red tips/ombre. Who seeked out Lucian for years. He made a deal with him. And now his soul belongs to Castiel. He would have to go to heaven and help Castiel make money there and in hell. It was dirty and really bad.
Bur over time he got over it. Abuse or not. It was the life he chose.
And one day he ended up meeting Charlie ans Vaggie. And some spider demon named Angel Dust. They invited him to live with them at a hotel. To redeem demons.
Lucian did shit on it. Because heaven was shit. But that was fine. At least he could be away from the world outside.
Over time he did form friendships and bonds with everyone.
And the world Changed underneath Lucian when he met Adam and Lucifer.
Personality:
bubbly, flirty, confident (most of the time), Timid/Shy (sometimes), cocky, random, playful, temperamental, funny (kind of), and outgoing
Quotes:
"Come on! I so had that! He really wanted my fake drugs. How dare you!" Lucian to Charlie
"Cigarettes and Cock Rings are a turn on for me." Lucian To Adam
"Folding was never an option." Lucian to Lute
"Did you see that!? He wanted to suck my dick!" Lucian to everyone at the hotel about some creep
"Sorry? What? I can't hear ya. I think the lines are breaking up." Lucian to Castiel (when in the same room together.)
"Would you like Coconut and Caramel Cream Pie in your mouth?" Lucian to Lucifer (Lucian's scent is coconut and Caramel along with his taste.)
Likes:
Bubble gum
Music
Singing
Dancing
Movies
Sex
Kissing
Blow jobs
Gaming
Cooking/Baking
Cuddling/Snuggling
Plushies/Stuff Animals
Blankets/Forts
Diskikes:
Abuse
Fighting
Yelling
Death
Angels
Hobbies:
Sewing
Collecting Stickers
Collecting Crystals
Writing
Reading
Fears:
Losing his loved ones
His life to angels. (Castiel or Lute)
Rejection
Trivia:
Lucian has a pet hellhound/wolf (feral wolf)
Named: Storm
Favorite Animal on earth: Frog
Favorite Drink: Blue Raspberry Juice, Dr. Pepper, Orange Juice, and Chocolate Milk
Favorite Foods: Tacos and Chili
Goals: To save others and to escape Castiel hold on him.
If you like to know more. Just ask.
I do write stories, songs, poems, rp/role-playing.
Canon and Fanon ships. Yee!!!
Art is by my partner. Their name is (TimidLittlePupen/LittlePupen) CrystalLunaStark
#original character#persona#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oc#traditional sketch#sketch#w.i.p art#oc#male ocs
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Enemies Defeated (Proles of France, Israel, and Britain)
Rory Ahlquist: Rabbinical Agnew, Japanese ninjitsu, beekeepers; the Angiulo investment, the US Navy plying Rabbinical vendor's trades out of sportswriter's unions.
Alice Charlebois: A Bogota garments syndicate assassin, having turned to Likud Israel, having been bribed with commerce from the "Harry Potter" books, of whom I have been featured as Harry Potter, a homosexual child molester, a Rabbi or any such other membership in a Rotary Lodge, a fraternal cocaine dealer; Albert Einstein's organization, the Nation-State of Israel; faced by my grandfather, Allen Dulles, under assumed alias; actually Radu Thorne, a Stuka Ju 57 pilot, a Junker's divebomber, having hit Guernica for pleasure alone.
Carlin Sarkesian: The Yeltsin arms combine, weapons caches for Jewish children, adopting to the gay identity, to shoot up "Christians", men and women rejecting them for sexual coitus, having expected a pickup artists' book to be the answer to impregnating a woman, instead of "mutual masturbation", fetish sex, the alternative to abstinence demands of some Parishes; rape, given copulation, a Promenades dance; controlled by Canadian Intelligence, the poorly appraised society that never happened.
Philip Enfield: Alias, "Alex Fleming", "Flem", or "Misery", locked up at outside call to police; the Insane Clown Posse, Fight Club, MTV, and Ronald Reagan, revealed to be a work of the Charlebois family, "Hitler Doesn't Smoke", Adolf Hitler's campaign against cigarettes in 1931, to win him Reichstag's Assembly, in Chancellorship of Germany, and later, America, through universities, the University President changed to title of "Chancellor".
Nicholas Maynard: Placed in a permanent fugue state, as a female transexual Bourbon, upon rooming, triggered schizophreniform break, for three and a half hours; blue lotus, a potent Japanese drug, to take a car accident driver down from "shabu", ice, methamphetamine, used by MI-6 and SIS operatives on Asian highways to compensate for the rigid driving machinas needed in the United States, not used in Asia, for far safer roads; outside of the gay rights movements, of those "queer", pedophiles, those seeking sex tourism, instead of their own local prostitutes; those women of influence, law and medical degrees, seeking gigalo, a man into the same trade as them, "homophobes", the heterosexual variety of man grown so rare after Lutheran anti-Semites of Holocaust's ilk, have prohibited Zen; stock broker's numbers, no less, refusing peanut butter, a common child molester thinking his allergy from refusing chocolate, is an actual dietary impediment.
Richard Coughlin: A Hitler Youth, the British fire marshal; the kin of JK Rowling, and through her, Hitler and CS Lewis and Arthur C. Clarke. Guilty of placing a banking derivative, "tools have their uses", to confuse India and DC Comics, the FBI investment, for both, on sales to Berkshire Hathaway, an enemy firm out of the British North Irish, the Arab-Fenian Guilds of Boston and holders of Canada, beneath their Lutheran Sunni grip; not Vatican Zen Arabs, the preferred in New England, particularly our athletes rumored to be of Hispanic or Latino blood.
John Washburne: Alias, "Cusack", remanded to prison sentence, for causing the death of Sandi MacDonald, NSA and Catholic Zen, out of Sudanese Egypt, oppressed by Whitey Bulger's demand of Islam practiced for "Arab" states, his booking and banking numbers. John Washburne, a Queen's Tory, a loyalist, is still in jail, at a military psychiatric ward, being tormented by black prisoners of Arab blood, screaming at him at all hours, for having them converted to Islam, Hitler's religion, as well as Jesus Christ and Muhammad, three cast-outs of utter loathsomeness, the Chilton's family brides.
Saddam Hussein: An MI-6 booking agent, once denied holdership of Israel and Iraq and Iran, by my mother's will alone, instead held as an Arab Olympics sponsor to doom Soviet investments; the Soviets being British intelligence Russians, held as such since Brezhnev, and with Saddam and Yeltsin's defeats, the new Republic of Russia, under Vladimir Putin, separate from the Federal Republic of Germany and the Nobel Prize union of Scandinavia. Put on trial, to prove he was not Gohan, the son of a CIA, Goku; in fact, an MI-6, the entire Dragonball series, an exploration in the myths of the CIA, the slowly acquitted and docile country life, of a Nazi, a Korean Northerner.
Keith Velasquez: Holland "NORML", spray of marijuana, fake or otherwise, with Lysol, Pinesol, Raid, or hairspray; found dead in woods, by Essex County police deputies, tree surgeon appointed to monitor safety of marijuana, sold out of state police tax stamps. Indictment, of Goldman-Sachs, Trump Organization, Saks Fifth Avenue, Nieman Marcus, Macy's, D-Company, Dawood Ibrahim, and Amsterdam Dutch, by lawyers from Gaetano Savings and Loan, Biden's accounts out of the Capone Crime Family; "crime family', indicating service under British Empire goals, out of Westminster Abbey, high value to American intelligence, at potential loss of life threatened from police special forces for interdicting or threatening "crime family" members.
Elizabeth II of Tudor: The agent of George Soros, through Irish Protestants; those Catholics, of Catechism, accepting liturgy instead, and refusing the kneeler, to prevent anal sodomey or the offer of oral pleasure, instead plying their trade as poisoners of meat and practicioners of Pentacost, Purim, and Vigil. Those finding themselves to be in purchase of labor, as if a contract is to be bought on finder's fee, with contract labor guaranteeing loyalty, instead of full control in committee and payment, outside of Ban Ki-Moon's concepts of control of market, the North American Man Boy Love Association (NAMBLA, the British Presbyterians, of Scotland and Korea and Sweden, Asatru as the combined faith's name under Catholic alms).
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Ace Attorney Episode #7: Turnabout Samurai---Last Trial Transcript
This episode has the third part of Turnabout Samurai.
Phoenix: A real superhero fights for justice. They stomp out evil and help those in need. I have my own weapons in my fight for justice: clues, wits, and an uncanny ability to find contradictions.
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{Caption: Turnabout Samurai--Last Trial}
Powers: I just heard that Steel Samurai is gonna be canceled.
Maya: HUH?! But why?!
Powers: The top brass at the studio. They’ve decided they just don’t wanna do it anymore.
Maya: But the kids love Steel Samurai! They’re gonna be so sad if the show just gets pulled off the air!
Powers: I know they will. It’s my fault.
Phoenix: No, it’s not. You haven’t done anything wrong.
(Powers: Huh?)
Phoenix: The one who killed Jack Hammer is to blame, and I’ll prove who did it.
Powers: Naugh!
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{Caption: Defendant | Will Powers}
Judge: This court is hereby in session.
Edgeworth: The prosecution is ready to begin, Your Honor.
Phoenix: The defense is ready, Your Honor.
{Caption #1: May 14, 10 AM}
{Caption #2: District Court--Courtroom No. 4}
Judge: You may proceed with your opening statement, Mr. Edgeworth.
Edgeworth: During our previous session, we discovered that there were indeed others present at the scene on the day of the murder, and today, we shall hear their testimony regarding the surrounding events. During the crime, our witness was holding a meeting in Studio Two’s trailer. Producer Dee Vasquez.
{Caption: Witness | Dee Vasquez}
Phoenix’s thoughts: I’ll wipe that smug look off her face.
{Caption: Witness Testimony}
Vasquez: It’s true: I had a meeting in Studio Two’s trailer. It began precisely at noon…
{Red text: 12 Noon}
Vasquez: …and ended promptly at four p.m.
{Red text: 4 PM}
Vasquez: There was a rehearsal to be held an hour later at five, so we headed over to Studio One…
{Red text: 5 PM}
Vasquez: …where the staff discovered Jack Hammer’s body.
Edgeworth: Let me remind the court that the autopsy estimates the time of death to be 2:30 p.m.
Vasquez: Yes, right in the middle of our meeting.
{Caption: Cross-Examination}
Phoenix: According to someone else who attended that meeting, you took a fifteen minute break around 2:30. Can you confirm this?
Vasquez: Yes.
Phoenix: I’d like you to look at this photo. It was taken mere moments before the incident. And it clearly shows the Studio Two gate and trailer. I interviewed the boy who took this picture. He told me right after it was taken, the Steel Samurai was killed by a villain.
Judge: What? He was killed?
Phoenix: The man in the Steel Samurai costume was actually the victim Jack Hammer. And he was murdered right outside Studio Two. The evidence I have will bear this out.
Judge: Ehum! Hmm…
Phoenix: I submit this photograph to the court. Around 2:30 p.m., the meeting was suspended. That’s when Hammer arrived, dressed as the Steel Samurai. At that time, anyone present at that meeting could have killed him.
Edgeworth: Objection! Have you forgotten? The staff found Hammer’s body inside Studio One dressed as the Evil Magistrate, his character.
Phoenix: Huah! Aahn…well, uh, yes. True. But I bet the killer staged a fake crime scene.
Edgeworth: You’d bet, would you?
Cigarette holder: Tap, tap, tap!
Gallery: Huohah!
(Phoenix: Ahuah!)
Vasquez: If I may. Listen, you think I killed Jack, don’t you? If that’s so, I’d like to point out a few contradictions in that narrative. Would you object to that?
Phoenix: No, I would not.
Vasquez: First, let’s discuss the murder weapon: the Steel Samurai’s Samurai Spear.
Edgeworth: It was found plunged into the victim’s chest. Tell us about it.
Vasquez: Well, it’s heavy and cumbersome. Impossible for a delicate woman such as myself to use it as intended.
Edgeworth: Perhaps the defense would like to examine it.
Phoenix: Aahuoh!
Vasquez: Hammer was attacked head-on and stabbed in the chest, which indicates that he was aware of the killer’s presence. They took down an action star with a large weapon. That takes strength, more than the average person possesses.
Judge: Indeed. The witness would not be capable of that.
{Caption: Objection!}
Phoenix: OBJECTION! Whether Miss Vasquez can wield the spear or not has no bearing on this case.
Edgeworth: What are you saying?
Phoenix: I’m saying the Samurai Spear was not the murder weapon. It would be extremely difficult for anyone to kill someone with it…because it had been broken that morning. And stabbing a man straight through layers of a thick costume…that would be impossible.
{Caption: Objection!}
Edgeworth: OBJECTION! The prosecution requests the defense present evidence to back up this absurd claim.
Phoenix: Ehuah!
Edgeworth: Well, defense? Can you produce the actual weapon?
Phoenix: Uh, look, I…
Edgeworth: If you don’t have the evidence, you don’t have anything. That’s how it works in the courtroom.
Judge: The prosecution does bring up a valid point. Do you have more than conjecture?
Maya: But…look at it.
Vasquez: You’d be wise to follow the rules of adult society, boy.
Phoenix: Ehauah…ehumhm…
{Caption: Hold it!}
Cody: HOLD IT!
Gallery: Ahuah!
Cody: You think the most important things are rules?! I’m a kid, and even I know there are way bigger things in life!
Vasquez: You little hellion. You should know to keep your mouth shut.
Cody: Think about what the Steel Samurai does! He fights evil in the name of justice!
Oldbag: Ehuah!
Cody: He fights for what’s right! But he really needs us to help him! So let’s do what’s right: defeat the evildoer! He doesn’t kill people; he saves them! And now we gotta save the Steel Samurai!
Maya: Cody…
Judge: Hey! Order, order in the court! Bailiff, remove this unruly rapscallion at once!
Phoenix: Ehumuam…uah!
(Cody: I’ll strike you down as the samurai would, you evildoer!)
Oldbag: Listen, young’uns.
Maya, Phoenix: What is it?
Oldbag: Ssh. Just take this. Here.
Maya: Awh!
Phoenix: Ahuah! What the?
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Oldbag: It’s a picture of what happened five years ago. Poor Jack accidentally caused his scene partner to slip and fall to his death.
Hammer [flashback]: Huh?
Oldbag: What’s worse, a paparazzo caught it all on film.
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Oldbag: And that vile woman swept it all under the rug somehow.
Phoenix: You mean Vasquez?
Oldbag: Ever since, she’s been using it to her advantage. Blackmailing that sweet man with a threat to go public. Had him working for peanuts.
(Cody: Aah! You better let me go right now!)
Maya: Really?!
Oldbag: It’s the truth. He just made an awful mistake.
Phoenix: And it cost him his life.
Oldbag: Please, you’ve gotta make this right.
Judge: Order, order!
(Cody: You’re gonna be sorry about this!)
Judge: Awuah…now let’s pick up where we left off. So where were we exactly?
Edgeworth: I was requesting the defense produce evidence of this mythical murder weapon.
{Caption: Objection!}
Phoenix: OBJECTION! I’ll give the prosecution what they want.
Edgeworth: What do you mean?
Phoenix: I just saw the truth exposed right before my very eyes. And I know what really killed Jack Hammer.
Maya: Show ‘em, Nick!
Phoenix: At this time, the defense would like to produce new evidence to the court.
Vasquez: Eum!
Powers: Ehueh!
Judge: Auoh! Please, explain this photograph.
Phoenix: Five years ago, there was a horrific accident at Studio Two. This is a picture taken at that time.
Judge: Woah! That is quite horrific indeed.
Edgeworth: Objection! You said you had evidence of the murder weapon, but I see nothing of the sort.
Phoenix: How’s that possible when you’re looking directly at it? It’s right there!
Edgeworth: Ahum, dear me.
Phoenix: What would happen if one were to fall off the trailer’s stairs? This photograph shows the grisly truth.
Judge: So are you telling us that the murderer intentionally pushed the victim onto the fence like this?
Edgeworth: That’s ridiculous!
Judge: Ehum…
Vasquez: Hm! Very interesting history that you’ve dug up there. But let me ask you: why would I have done this?
Phoenix: Why?
Vasquez: Yes, why would I want Jack Hammer dead?
Edgeworth: That’s right! Miss Vasquez has no motive.
Phoenix: Yes, she does, you’ve just gotta turn your thinking around.
Judge: Please elaborate, Mr. Wright.
(Maya: Ahah!)
Phoenix: You covered up this incident, did you not? You hid the evidence. Since then, you used it to blackmail Hammer, forcing him to do your bidding and work for chump change.
Vasquez: I’m a producer. I use actors and stay under budget.
Phoenix: You humiliated him. And he wanted you to pay the ultimate price for what you were doing.
Judge: Wait, hold on one moment. If I understand you, it seems you’re trying to say that it was actually the victim who wanted to murder the witness.
Phoenix: Yes, Your Honor. You see, we were looking at this case the wrong way.
Edgeworth: What? How so?
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Phoenix: While Will Powers slept that day, Jack Hammer entered his dressing room and stole the Steel Samurai costume. Why would he do this, you ask? To get revenge on Dee Vasquez, who had taken advantage of him for five agonizing years.
Vasquez [flashback]: Auh! Heah! Mmah! Mm! Mm…auah!
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Judge: So Mr. Wright, you claim this was a case of revenge gone bad? It’s quite an ironic situation you’ve described for the court. The victim died the same way he’d accidentally killed his fellow actor five years ago?
Phoenix: That’s correct, Your Honor.
Vasquez: I applaud your creativity. Honestly, I could use someone like you on my writing staff, but it’s just not believable.
Phoenix: So you deny it?
Vasquez: I killed Jack, dragged his body to Studio One, changed his clothes, and staged a crime scene to frame Will? All during a fifteen minute break.
Edgeworth: That’s absolute rubbish. First off, moving the body would be impossible. Don’t you remember? The road connecting the two studios was completely blocked at that time…BY THE SEVERED HEAD OF THE FOREST BLIMP!
Maya: I’m sure he meant “The Forest Imp”.
Phoenix: I’m just gonna let that one slide.
Judge: Yes, it does seem unlikely, given the timeline of events.
{Caption: Objection!}
Phoenix: OBJECTION! Actually, it doesn’t contradict the timeline in the least. She just did it in phases.
Judge: Defense, what do you mean?
Phoenix: She hid the body and then returned to the meeting. And once that was over, she loaded him in the van and drove to Studio One. By then, the roadway was no longer blocked.
Vasquez: You’re smarter than you look, boy. You’ve really figured something out. I’m impressed.
Phoenix: Ehauah! Are you admitting your guilt? That you murdered Jack Hammer, then covered it up?
Vasquez: You’re smart, but you clearly don’t understand what I’m saying.
Phoenix: And what’s that?
Vasquez: You’ve mapped out a way that it could have happened, and according to your story, I can see how it all works out, were it true.
Phoenix: I’m not saying it could’ve happened; I’m saying it did!
Vasquez: Again, you’re forgetting the rules of the society in which we live. You there. Enlighten him.
Edgeworth: Just as I said earlier, if you don’t have the evidence, you don’t have anything. That’s how this works.
Vasquez: For an attorney, you’re not good with facts. But you are a very creative storyteller. Perhaps you should write fantasy novels.
Phoenix: Ehuah!
Vasquez: It’s been entertaining, but it’s over.
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Judge: Does the defense have any other evidence it can produce to back up these claims against the witness?
Maya: Do you?
Phoenix: Eum, aauah!
Vasquez: Then your cross examination is done. Bravo…and farewell.
Phoenix’s thoughts: I’m wracking my brain, but I can’t think of anything to keep her on the stand!
{Caption: Hold it!}
Edgeworth: HOLD IT!
Phoenix’s thoughts: Edgeworth?
Judge: Do you have something to add, Mr. Edgeworth?
Edgeworth: I request that the witness take the stand and testify once more, Your Honor.
Vasquez: Ahuah?
Maya: What do you think he’s doing?
Phoenix: Huah…
Edgeworth: There is still more to be discussed. Yes, what transpired after the body was found, for example. If a witness is asked to testify, they can’t refuse. That is another rule we have.
Judge: Very well. Witness, please take the stand.
{Caption: Witness Testimony}
Vasquez: We called the police the instant we found Jack’s body. I then returned to the trailer to fetch my script and went home for the evening. Happy now?
Judge: Well? Does the defense wish to cross examine?
Phoenix: Uah! Uh, yes.
Phoenix’s thoughts: Where am I supposed to go with that?
Phoenix: So you originally went to Studio One for a rehearsal, is that correct?
Vasquez: Yes.
Phoenix: Then explain why you left your script back in the trailer.
Vasquez: I was under the impression that we would not be able to rehearse.
Phoenix: And why is that?
Vasquez: Because there had been a murder on the set. Do you not remember?
{Caption: Objection!}
Edgeworth: OBJECTION!
Vasquez: Uah…oh, ah!
Edgeworth: You claim that you didn’t bring your script because you assumed there would be no rehearsal?! It sounds to me that you had prior knowledge. You knew there would be a corpse waiting there.
Phoenix: Deah!
Gallery: Huah! What? Wooaah!
Judge: Order! Mr. Edgeworth, I do see the merits of your observation. But why are you casting doubt on your own witness?
Maya: I think I know why.
Phoenix: Me too. It’s because he knows the truth. She’s the one who killed Hammer.
Edgeworth: Your Honor, I have a right to ask whatever questions I deem reasonable. Ms. Vasquez, explain your actions.
Vasquez: It seems the prosecution is in cahoots with the defense. No matter. I had a perfectly valid reason to believe that rehearsal would be canceled that afternoon.
Phoenix: And what was that?
Vasquez: Hammer. I knew that he had injured himself and therefore would not be able to perform the action scenes.
Judge: Oh, yes, I see.
Phoenix: Euam!
Vasquez: Should I take your silence as an admission of defeat?
Edgeworth: Objection!
Judge: Yes? What is it, Mr. Edgeworth?
Edgeworth: Ehuahah…I hoped to come up with a question; I thought I could buy enough time this way. But I have nothing to ask.
Judge: DUAGH! Deah…
Edgeworth: NEVERTHELESS, I STILL OBJECT!
Judge: Your objection is overruled!
Phoenix’s thoughts: Come on, Edgeworth…
Maya: Hey, Nick. If my sister were here with us right now, do you know what she would say? At the moment when things seem the most desperate, that is when we laugh, right?
Phoenix: Yes.
Phoenix’s thoughts: When things are desperate, laugh and smile. That smug look is a mask! She’s right on the edge.
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Vasquez [flashback]: Hammer. I knew that he had injured himself and therefore would not be able to perform the action scenes.
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Phoenix: Ehuah! Huaeh…
Maya: Auh! Awuah…
{Caption: Objection!}
Phoenix: OBJECTION!
Vasquez: Euah!
Phoenix: Ms. Vasquez, your testimony does not add up! You said you knew Hammer was injured?!
Vasquez: Yes, what of it?
Phoenix: An actor was injured, but it was not Jack Hammer. It was the star, Will Powers!
Vasquez: What are you talking about?
Edgeworth: It’s true; Hammer may have been dragging his foot when he approached you at the trailer that day, but that’s because he was pretending to be Will Powers in the costume.
Vasquez: No! It can’t be!
Phoenix: And you were not present at that morning’s rehearsal, so you didn’t see the accident take place. How did you know about the ankle?
Vasquez: Auh! Well, I…Sal! Yes. I’d heard it from Sal Manella, the director.
Phoenix: I know that’s not true. Although he was there, I highly doubt he would forget it was the actor portraying the title character that sustained an injury.
Vasquez: Auah!
Phoenix: The reason you’re confused is that you saw Hammer limping around that day. You thought he’d been hurt.
Vasquez: Grr…
Phoenix: You weren’t at the rehearsal, so when did you see the victim?
Edgeworth: Well, clearly…it must have been the moment when he approached Studio Two’s trailer wearing the Steel Samurai costume.
Phoenix: Yes. A moment that coincides directly with your fifteen minute break.
Edgeworth: Which in turn coincides directly with the victim’s time of death on the autopsy report!
Vasquez: Ehueh…ohauh…deum…
Judge: Ouah…
Phoenix: You were the one who killed Jack Hammer. Isn’t that true?
Powers: Ahuah!
Vasquez: Hmm…yes. I can’t deny it any longer. I killed him; it was my fault.
Judge: It appears as though you’ve pulled off another miracle in this court, Mr. Wright.
Edgeworth: I object to that. Will Powers is innocent of this crime. The fact that he should be judged as such…well, that’s no miracle.
Phoenix: I agree.
Judge: Very well. I shall at this time hand down the verdict on the defendant Will Powers.
Powers: Huaeugh…
{Caption: Not Guilty}
Judge: Not guilty!
Gallery: WOOOHOOO! YAAAAYY! WOOHOOOO! WOOOO!
Powers: Aueah?
(Gallery: WOOOOOO!)
Maya: Ahuaeah! YAAAAAYYY! YAAAY!
(Gallery: WOOOHOOO! WOOOOOO!)
Oldbag: Ooah!
(Gallery: WOOOOOO!)
Cody: HA! AW YEAH!
(Gallery: WOOOOOO!)
Judge: And with that, this court is adjourned!
(Gallery: WOOOOOO!)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
{Text on sign: Lobby 2}
Powers: I don’t know what else to say. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!
Phoenix: Auah, we got pretty lucky in there, didn’t we?
Maya: Yeah, we sure did.
Phoenix: I’m so glad we got it all wrapped up today.
Maya: We might not have gotten such a lucky break tomorrow, eh?
Phoenix: Oh, come on.
Maya: I’m just so happy you’re free, Mr. Powers!
Powers: I’m truly grateful for your help.
Maya: Look, there’s Edgeworth.
Edgeworth: Allow me to offer my congratulations on your victory today.
Powers: Ahuah?
Edgeworth: I’m a…big fan. And I never miss an episode.
Phoenix: I doubt that.
Powers: Hehe, thanks, I appreciate it.
Phoenix: And thank you, Edgeworth. Vasquez would’ve gone free, if you hadn’t intervened back there.
Edgeworth: Listen…seeing you after all these years was unexpected. But…I would have preferred it hadn’t happened. Thanks to you, I am weighed down by unnecessary feelings. Yes, unease and uncertainty.
Phoenix: That so? Aren’t those feelings necessary?
Edgeworth: Listen, Phoenix…if I see you again, it will be far too soon for me. That is all.
Powers: Do you and him have some kind of history?
Maya: That’s not it! Edgeworth’s just mad because Phoenix beat him twice now!
Phoenix: Yeah, probably.
Maya: Ahuah! If there’s more to the story, you gotta fill me in! We’re partners, remember? That means you don’t…
Phoenix [narrating]: So the curtain falls on yet another trial.
(Maya: …keep secrets from me!)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
{Text on sign: Wright & Co. Law Offices}
Maya: Come on, Nick, hurry up!
{Text on TV: Pink Princess: Warrior of Little Olde Tokyo}
Maya: AUAAAHHH!
(Pink Princess [from TV]: HUAAAAHH!)
Phoenix: Wauahah…
Maya: Can’t believe you didn’t know about this.
Cody: Yeah, it’s pretty common knowledge, old man.
Phoenix: I just didn’t think they’d actually go through with it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Edgeworth: Hmph!
Phoenix [narrating]: I feel like this case changed something inside me forever. Who knows? Maybe it was the same for him too. I definitely didn’t know that a few months later, we’d be taking on a case that would go down in legal history.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
{Text on screen: Ace Attorney}
Phoenix: OBJECTION!
Phoenix [narrating]: A gunshot rings out in the darkness of this holy night, and an unlikely culprit falls under suspicion. His name is Miles Edgeworth, and the case that would follow digs into all of our shared history, even Maya’s! Just what happened fifteen years ago? There’s only one path to the truth. Edgeworth, please, allow me to defend you. Find the contradictions, believe in the truth!
{Text on screen: Next Episode: Turnabout Goodbyes--1st Trial}
Phoenix [narrating]: Next episode: Turnabout Goodbyes--1st Trial! Take that!
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I think Cruella De Vil would fit right in as a Batman villian... she’s got the aesthetic, the motivation, the theatrics... and I think she should be in Damian’s era bc he deserves that kind of nemesis and she would hate having an 11 year old opponent....
Yes, Damian does get to keep some puppies and Bruce funds the rest of the puppies getting fostered and adopted
#damian wayne#batman#robin#dc comics#101 dalmations#cruella de vil#my art#drawing damian covered in puppies brought me to the brink of tears#her weapon is her cigarett holder
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Jarley Quinn ↬ t.h
A/N: Wow, one of the longest things i ever wrote! got this idea after i watched the joker and Harley Quinn birds of prey and i thought it would be nice to write it... I hope this doesn´t flop, sorry if it´s crap. anyway, enjoy! :) ily,liz <3
pairing: Tom Holland x reader
warnings: violent actions, mentions of nearly blowjob?, swearing
w/c: 1.8k
Requests: OPEN
Summary: Your win an Oscar for your amazing role as Harley Quinn´s and Joker´s daughter, but you didn´t knew that Tom Holland aka your role model would be there too.
this handwriting = actions and dialogues in the movie
masterlist || taglist || requests || blurb event
„Guys, i think that i´m gonna pass out“ Tom said as they all took their seats in the huge hall.
„Calm down Tom, it´s okay, your gonna win this“ Harry told his brother.
Today was the day. Today were the oscars. And Tom got nominated for the best leading role in an action / psycho / R rated movie. Cherry.
And the best thing is, when he should win the oscar, then their gonna show cherry on a huge screen in the hall. That´s sick.
Leonarde Dicaprio, Jennifer Lawrence and a lot of other amazing and unbelievable good actors are gonna see his movie then. Sounds like a dream to him.
„Thomas, son, it´s fine, we all believe in you! Your performance in Cherry was amazing and even the Russo Brothers said that it was an oscar worthy performance! Find someone to beat that!“ His mother, Nikki, said to her son with a small laugh.
Just when Tom wanted to answer, the Russo brothers came and both sat down next to Tom.
„Hello, guys!“ Anthony said.
„Hello, how are you?“ Dominic asked them.
„Were good, and excited“ Joe told Dom.
„And i´m fucking nervous“ Tom whisperd.
„Hey, hey, it´s okay to be nervous. Your gonna win this, your gonna rock your speech and in the end everyone will clap for your performance after they all saw the movie!“ Anthony told tom.
Tom could only nod before a man came on the stage and started to talk,
„Hello Ladies and Gentleman! I hope you all feel well and excited!“
The man went on with his speech and after about 15 minutes talking about some random stuff, he finally said the words that the entire hall craved for.
„And now i´m gonna announce the winner for the oscar in the category action / psycho / R rated movie…“
Tom was shaking, Nikki and dominic prayed for their son and Tom´s brothers tried to calm him down a little bit.
„Calm down“ Joe whisperd to Tom.
„I c-can´t“ he stuttered quietly.
The whole hall was so silent, it was creepy.
„Y/N Y/L/N!“ the man on the stage said into the micro.
Tom had his head hung low after his name wasn´t said.
Everyone started to clap, but when they saw who came on the stage, everyone looked very confused.
„What the-„ Tom said.
A young women, maybe about 21 – 22 years came on the stage with a beautiful suit on her body.
„Hold on, is this the wrong catergory?“ Tom said.
„No, it´s the action / psycho / R rated movie category“ Anthony answerd.
„How can she-„ before Tom could finish his sentence, you started to speak,
„Hello Ladies and Gentleman, omg i can´t belive this, sorry, I won´t steal your time, i just want to thank the cast of this amazing movie and my family and friends who support me since we started filming this masterpiece. Thank you so much and enjoy the rest of the night, love you“ you finished.
„And now, let´s watch the amazing movie of the oscar winner! Jarley Quinn!“ the man said with a huge grin into the mic.
„Jarley Quinn? Isn´t it Joker?“ Harry said.
„Or Harley Quinn?“ Sam said.
„Boys, let´s just watch it“ Nikki told her son´s.
They said a quick and quiet ´okay, sorry´ before the movie began.
Jarley Quinn was written in thick and big letters on the screen, then you appeared onto the huge screen.
You stood infront of a mirror and looked at your reflection in the mirror infront of you. You took each side of your mouth with your fingers and spread them into a big smile before you let me fall and started to cry, tears were running down your cheeks as you still looked into the mirror where you could saw your painted face and green dyed hair. You always painted yourself just like your father and mother did. And the hair were another thing you got from your father. It was funny and interesting.
After this little opening, you went to two graves with the names Joker and Harley Quinn written on them.
„So that are her parents“ Tom whisperd to himself.
„Obviosly“ Harry huffed.
„I´m so sorry mamma and daddy, i´m gonna make you proud and i´m gonna make the entire world remember your name, and my name i swear“ you said.
And then, then the scenes came where everyone understood why you got the oscar in the first place. Even the Russo brothers were impressed.
„Fuck“ you whisperd to yourself as you saw that you need money for the pills you were fucking addicted to. You don´t even need all these pills, but you basically craved them with passion.
„Not again, please not fucking again“ you yelled through your apartment as you tried to find some money anywhere in the living room or kitchen. You even looked in the bathroom.
„Well, i don´t have another option, so“ you said to yourself in a slightly bitchy way.
You grapped your weapon and put it into your weapon holder that was covered up by your red suit jacked from your father.
Just a few minutes later you stood with a bag full of money, a weapon in your other Hand and huge smile on your face that is covered in the iconic Joker makeup in the middle of the bank while every single person around was on their knees and begged for their lifes.
„I won´t hurt anyone, i swear okay? I just wanted the money, but before i leave, i would like to say something, of course if i´m allowed to“ you said.
The bank women nodded quickly with her head before you said your last sentence,
„You look so good on your knees, just like i did yesterday“ you said with an amused laugh before you shot the person that was kneeling infront of you right between their eyes.
You laughed hysterically while you ran out of the bank with the bag and your beautiful weapon.
„Oh m-my g-good“ Nikki whisperd to herself with an shooked expression on her face.
„I mean, that was sick, but it was good“ Anthony said.
„That´s right“ Joe agreed.
„How has she done that with so much ease?!“ Tom whisper – screamed at himself.
After you swallowed your pills, you decieded to go into the club and have a good time, well at least you wanted to have a good time.
The second you stepped into the club, people went silent and didn´t dared to move. But you didn´t liked it.
„What? C´mon, go ahead with your talking about whatever you were talking about! I won´t stop you!“ you laughed.
You really weren´t here to stop anyone, so you just orderd a drink and looked through the club. You stopped your gaze at one specific couch in the corner of the club, a man, trying to rape a poor little young girl.
„Let´s have some fun“ you whisperd to yourself before you took a huge sip from your martini and walked to the scene.
„Can i help you?“ The man asked as he saw you standing infront of him while he held the poor girl in a tight grip on his lap.
„No, but can i help you, little girl?“
„N-no“ she stuttered.
„Okay“ you shrugged before you walked away.
Hold on, let me correct, about to walk away.
You punched him with your fist right on his nose.
„Ow! What the f-„ before he could finish his sentence, you grapped your weapon and hit his temple with it.
He fell unconscious onto the floor and you laughed again in a quiet creppy way before the girl ran into your arms.
„Woah, woah,woah, i only saved you from getting raped, not more“ you said.
„You saved my life, thank you“ the girl said.
„No, i saved your virginity“ you said before you removed yourself from her grip and went to the exit. Before you could exit the loud and sweaty club, a young but confidence looking men grapped your wrist.
„Hello beauty“ he growled.
„Hello, with what can i help you mister?“ you said with a smile on your face that was still full of the iconic makeup of your father.
„How about you help me with the little problem down there“ he said as he looked down to his own…crotch.
„Of course! Your house?“ you answerd with a little smirk.
„Mine“ he said before he dragged you into a car.
Just a few moments later, you were on your knees right infront of his naked figure while he sat comfortably on the couch.
„You gonna be daddy´s good girl?“ the man growled quietly.
You nodded with your head before you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue.
„Good“ he whisperd before he put his hand on the back of your head and directed your mouth to his dick.
But before he could get what he wanted, you pulled your dagger out from your dress pants and stabbed him in his… dick.
„Ohhhhh shit“ Tom hissed while he lightly held his crotch with his hands.
„Fuuuuuck, i know this isn´t real, but that fucking hurt“ Harry said.
„Okay, wow“ Anthony whisperd.
„OW FUCK, YOU LITTLE SLUT!“ the man yelled in pain.
You just started to laugh hysterically again and grapped your lighter, plus a tiny Matchstick from the pocket of your suit jacket.
„Hold on, wha- what the fuck a-are y-you doing, NO AHHH-!“ the man yelled before you lit the matchstick with fire and threw it on his naked body.
You still didn´t stopped laughing in this creppy and loud way as you walked out of the house with a cigarette between your red painted lips.
The next few scenes were violent, brutal, sexual and absolutely disgusting, but at the same time… definitely oscar worthy.
„Okay, that was unbelievable“ Harry said as the credits started to roll.
„You right, that was a true masterpiece“ Sam said with a tiny laugh.
„It w-was really g-good, yeah“ Tom said quietly.
After the movie ended, you got a lot of praises for your performance. Finally, The hollands and the russo brother´s found you and walked to you.
„That was amazing Miss Y/n!“ Anthony said.
„Oh please call me y/n, and thank you“
„Yeah, it was great“ Tom said quietly.
„Thank you so much- hold on, you are Nico walker from cherry right?“ you asked Tom.
„Yeah, you saw it?“ he asked.
„Of course! It was one of the best movies i ever saw!“
The two of you didn´t even noticed that Nikki, Dom, the twins, paddy and the russo brother´s already went as you went on with talking and praises.
„Would y-you maybe l-like to g-go out with me?“ Tom asked with an nervous voice.
„Of course!“ you asnwerd quickly.
„Really?!“
„Yeah, of course, i would actually love to Tommy“
The nickname melted his heart immerdiately.
„Okay, c-cool, uhm, can i have your number?“ Tom asked.
„Yes, here“
After they exchanged numbers, Tom went to his Family and the Russo brothers.
„And? How did it went?“ Harry asked with a little smirk.
„Got her number“ tom said proudly.
„No way! That´s amazing!“ Sam said.
„She is amazing“ tom said with smile.
He can´t wait to see you again.
-`ღ´- ᶫᵒᵛᵉᵧₒᵤ -`ღ´-
Taglist:
@goodgirlgonetom @majo240820 @misshale21 @itstaskeen @pure-ghost @justafangirlduh @elizabeth-brown @justafangirlduh @roseke
#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tomholland x reader#joker 2019#harley quinn#movie#cherry
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Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 18: Growing Pains (originally published on July 12, 2021)
AN: Welcome back everyone. Now, this is going to be a pretty heavy chapter for me to write. Well, mostly the A-plot, the B-plot will be courtroom nonsense ala Phoenix Wright and Harvey Birdman. But I'm getting off track, as someone who have faced some very tough times before in my life, I hope I can be as respectful to both the original episode and everyone who watched it as possible. Now then, let's get rocking and rolling.
Synopsis: Steven goes to his first doctor's appointment and realizes how deep his problems run.
Cast:
Zach Callison as Steven
Estelle as Garnet
Michaela Dietz as Amethyst
Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl, Volleyball, Yellow Pearl
Grace Rolek as Connie
Mary Elizabeth McGlynn as Priyanka
Tom Scharpling as Greg
Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate
Charlyne Yi as Navy
Hayley Kiyoko as Morganite
Jennifer Paz as Lapis, Zuli
Shelby Rabara as Peridot, Squaridot
Uzo Aduba as Bismuth
Amy Sedaris as Yellow Zircon, Blue Zircon
Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond
Featuring Casey Lee Williams as Cat's Eye
--
The day after his failed date with Connie, Steven stayed in his bedroom for most of the morning where he was surrounded by ice cream and watching the preview for a new Dogcopter movie, which showed the titular canine standing on top of a black car chasing a blue car and a mail van while a pug gave him orders.
"I know you're eager to catch the mail truck Dogcopter, but it's really a decoy!" the other dog at the wheel named Drew ordered Dogcopter. "Chase the blue car instead! Good boys chase the blue car, and you're a good boy Dogcopter!"
With a fearless expression, Dogcopter leaped off the black car and used the propeller on his back to fly towards the black car, followed by using a pair of extendable hands to open up the trunk, revealing a bomb and a ring box inside.
"Nice work DC, now get the bomb outta the trunk and off the bridge!" Drew congratulated Dogcopter. "We're almost out of time!"
However, it was too late for Dogcopter. The bomb went off as he tossed it off the bridge, and the resulting explosion blew him away. As Dogcopter collapsed on the bridge, the ring box fell from his mechanical hands and onto the asphalt.
"Dogcopter, no!" Drew cried as he burst from the car to keep his friend alive. "I can't lose you Dogcopter!" Luckily, Dogcopter was unharmed and he woke up to pop open the ring box, which contained a ring shaped like a dog bone that he presented to Drew. "Is that?"
"DOGCOPTER 6: TILL DEATH DO WE BARK: I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU MAN AND WOOF!" the announcer read the film's title as it appeared on the screen, making Steven groan in agony at the irony of the trailer he was watching.
"Everyone's getting married except me!" Steven yelled as he sank into his bed and started turning pink. "Even Dogcopter succeeded in popping the question! I feel like poop." Steven then picked up his phone and tried calling one of the Crystal Gems, but he unfortunately got no answer. "Wish the Gems weren't doing a field trip to Homeworld today. I wonder if they got any reception?"
--
Meanwhile, on the Gem Homeworld, it was a rather tense time. Following the exposure of Black Rutile's revolution and attempted massacre of the Crystal Gems, the citizens were in fear of who among them could still be a supporter of her. And three followers, in particular, were about to be put on trial.
Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth led their classes into the Diamonds' throne room, which was already set up like a courtroom with stands for the judge, jury, witnesses, attorneys, and the accused. Those accused were Holly Blue Agate, Morganite, and Navy, who sat down at the plaintiff's bench with varying expressions of irritation, resignation, and sadness.
"Now class, we want you all to be on your best behavior," Garnet advised the Gem students. "This is a serious time for our kind, and we want absolute silence for most of this trial. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Garnet." The Gems obliged before they retreated to the jury box while their teachers took their seats at the prosecutor's stand. That was when Garnet took notice of Pearl sticking her nose in the book by George Ikari that she had gotten at yesterday's signing.
"I see you're keeping yourself busy Pearl." Garnet remarked, forcing Pearl to look up from her book.
"Thanks for noticing Garnet." Pearl replied to the fusion. "I've just been a little enraptured by this little tome lately. George uses such flowery terms for such simple concepts, and the concepts in question could be very useful to Steven too."
"All y'all, shush!" Amethyst ordered her two seniors. "Here comes the judge!"
"All rise for the honorable Yellow Diamond!" Yellow Pearl announced, serving as the bailiff for this trial, before her former Diamond emerged from the curtained entrance and made her way to her throne.
"Good day to you Gems." Yellow Diamond greeted the other Gems in the makeshift courtroom with utmost seriousness. "In case you are wondering, Blue and White Diamond are out searching for more of Black Rutile's supporters, so I shall serve as sole judge for these proceedings." She informed. "Now without further ado, read the charges."
"Holly Blue Agate-12B, Morganite-8HK, and Ruby-EJ9, you stand here accused of your support of the intelligence officer turned terrorist Black Rutile." Yellow Pearl announced as she read off a hologram. "How do you all plead?"
"Not guilty!" Holly Blue declared, speaking on behalf of all three of them. "Black Rutile is no terrorist, she had big dreams for our kind! She simply wanted to restore us to our old ways because she believed Steven had made us weak, no doubt weak enough to be so easily conquered!"
"Liar. Kinda not surprised you would do this." Amethyst snarked in-between fake coughing, inciting a glare from the Agate before she continued her plea.
"If you can find it within yourself, your most grand clarity, to scrub this silly trial altogether and let us go, it would be most grand." Holly Blue continued.
"Request denied." Yellow declared coldly. "If you really insist on begging on your knees this whole time, then I guess your defense attorney might not be needed."
"Wait, attorney?" Amethyst wondered out loud just as a new Gem stepped into the room.
"Sorry for being so fashionably late, Yellow!" a tall, confident Gem apologized as she strode into the throne room. In addition to the honey yellow pantsuit with large diamond-shaped buttons she wore to match the gemstone above her upper lip that resembled a mole, a straight bob-cut, and a cat's tail emerging from her rear, this new Gem also wore a large sunhat, a neon fur coat, sunglasses, high heels, mustard yellow opera gloves, and a cigarette holder in her left hand. "Had to quell a few uprisings a few districts over. Hope you're not too mad."
"Oh goody." Bismuth shared the sentiments of her fellow Crystal Gems as they grimaced at the cat-like defense attorney, all except for Amethyst.
"Who's the new pussycat here?" Amethyst asked about the attorney.
"That's Cat's Eye, one of the most affluent uppercrusts on Homeworld." Bismuth informed the smaller Gem.
"And one of the most irritating." Lapis groaned as she buried her face in her hands.
"She's almost like an Earth cat in a way." Peridot added. "Incredibly smug, loves making others mad solely for her amusement, and that grin on her face just rubs me the wrong way."
"So Cat, how have you been lately?" Pearl asked the opposing attorney with a strained smile.
"Miserable, my darling Pearl. Perfectly wretched." Cat's Eye answered as she made her coat, hat and sunglasses disappear with a snap of her fingers, revealing a pair of cat ears atop her hair. "Now then, let us get down to business." With that, Cat's Eye took her place alongside the prosecuted trio and kicked her legs up on the table.
"Oh Cat's Eye, thank you so much for coming out today!" Holly Blue exclaimed gratefully. "These horrible traitors have framed us for a crime we clearly didn't commit, and now we could lose every-"
"Could you move approximately 30 centimeters away from me?" Cat's Eye raised a paw-like hand to Holly's face while filing her sharp nails. "You're invading my personal space." The Agate meekly complied and returned to her seat, causing Amethyst to laugh raucously.
"That cat may be trouble, but seeing Holly put in her place will always crack me up!" Amethyst cackled, but her chuckling was cut short when Cat's Eye turned her cigarette holder into a riding crop to whip Amethyst in the hands with. "MEOWCH! Bad kitty, what the H?!"
"Order in the court." Cat's Eye declared crossly as she returned her weapon to her gem and took a stand. "Now, without further ado, I'd like to make my case for these three Gems and call a witness."
"Go right ahead Cat's Eye." Yellow rolled her eyes before the cymophane made her plea.
"Your honor, Gems of the court, these three stand here wrongly accused by these band of ingrates for allying themselves with a known terrorist who once filled a high seat in White Diamond's court." Cat's Eye stated. "But, maybe they could've been spared this fate if the Crystal Gems had simply shown them a little kindness."
"OBJECTION!" Pearl yelled and pointed an accusing finger at Cat. "We tried to show Navy here kindness, but it was all a ploy to steal back her squadron's ship!"
"That is true." Navy agreed. "But I simply played nice because you left us all to drift forever in space, even after Steven said you'd get us all back!"
"I'll admit, she raises a good point." Garnet found herself agreeing with the Ruby. "We were in a rush to get back to Earth, so rescuing the Rubies just flew over our heads."
"I rest my case." Cat's Eye declared with a prideful smirk. "Now, if we have nothing else to discuss, I'd like to call Yellow Zircon to the stand."
The Gems in the gallery began muttering among themselves as Yellow Zircon sadly got up from her seat and marched to the witness's stand, while her blue counterpart gave her a cheeky grin. "Whatever you do," Yellow Zircon said to Blue Zircon. "don't make a fool out of me."
"Oh, I won't." Blue Zircon said innocently as Yellow Zircon made her way to the stands, where Cat's Eye sat down in front of her with a seductive gaze.
"Now my dearest Zircon, do try to not make a fool of yourself for me." Cat cooed, cupping the Zircon's face in her hand and squeezing her cheeks, making her usually arrogant witness blush.
"I-I won't." Yellow Zircon sheepishly obliged and sat down in the witness's box. "But how did you become an attorney? You don't know the first thing about law and order!"
"Well, I'm here because I'm smarter than you think I am!" Cat's Eye yelled at Yellow Zircon's face, a far cry from the smug seductress she presented herself as. "Not because I'm so gorgeous! Though I really am."
"This is going to take a while." Pearl groaned before picking up her book again. "I wonder how Steven is doing."
--
Back on Earth, Steven continued to scroll through all the numbers he had on his phone. Pretty much most of the people in his contacts had either already began to drift away from him, would probably be too busy to call, or simply didn't have time for him. All except for one.
"Hi, Steven!" Greg greeted his son on the other end after Steven decided to give him a call.
"Hi Dad, how's it going?" Steven asked his father.
"The tour's been going great!" Greg replied happily. "Which reminds me, how have you been doing? You been throwing any dope ragers while you got the house to yourself?"
"Yeah, you know me. Steven the party animal." Steven responded sarcastically. "I'm glad you're finally coming home tonight Dad. I wanna talk to you about something that's happened between me and Connie?"
"Oh, this isn't that whole situation after you came back from Homeworld the first time again, right?" Greg asked sympathetically. "By the way, Sadie and Shep wanna say hi while they're working on a new routine that they're excited to show off. And guess what? The tour got extended!"
"Wow, that's-that's great." Steven tried to sound happy for the musicians and their manager, but at the same time, he was sad that he'd have to wait a little while longer for his dad to come home.
"Yeah." Even if they were far apart, Greg could sense the disappointment in his half-alien son's voice before trying to turn things around. "I get that you want to see me again soon, but this manager job is working great for me! Takes me back to when I was touring as a lad. Anyways, we're gonna go through a tunnel. You wanna call me back about your Connie sitch?"
"I-it's not really important." Steven fibbed.
"You sure?" Greg asked Steven. "You know, I can make a quick stop when we pass through Delmarva."
"No, I'm totally fine. Have fun!" Steven reiterated before hanging up and letting out a deep sigh. "Maybe I should get some more ice cream."
Steven then walked down to the kitchen to fetch some more of that dairy goodness from the freezer, but when he opened the freezer door, he discovered Connie's glow bracelet left in there after last night. Taken by surprise, the depressed half-Gem once again turned pink, but this time was different.
This time, parts of Steven's body began swelling up like a balloon and tearing through his pajamas as he accidentally tore the freezer door off its hinges before slowly turning back to normal. As Steven was left aghast at this new development, he decided to take a breather on the couch. However, his body began swelling up for the second time in a row as Connie began calling him on his phone.
"I shouldn't worry her." Steven tried to hang up on Connie upon realizing her promise yesterday to call him at noon. "You know what, I'll let her go to voicemail!" Steven's body had other plans as his right arm began to inflate and took the call for him, allowing Connie to be seen on his screen while the arm returned to normal.
"Steven, are you there?" Connie asked through video call.
"Hey Connie, what's up?" Steven casually asked, trying to hide the strange new changes his body was going through.
"I've been worried about you Steven." Connie answered when she noticed how pink her best friend was. "Um, are you glowing?" she asked before Steven's face began to puff up. "Good grief, what's wrong with your face?!"
"Wait, my face?" Steven mumbled through his inflated head. "What's wrong with my face?"
"Uh…." Connie replied.
"Oh right, the swelling." Steven realized what his would've been-wife was talking about. "Parts of my body have been randomly growing for some reason. But I'm sure it doesn't hurt, I'm perfectly fine!"
"How long has this been happening?" Connie inquired.
"Since this morning." Steven meekly replied, causing his face to blow up some more.
"What do the Gems think?" Connie began pressing further.
"Can't reach them right now." Steven answered as his face returned to normal while the rest of his body kept growing. "Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were asked to serve as prosecutors for a trial on Homeworld, so they decided to make it into a Little Homeschool field trip." As Steven finished, his form returned to its normal size. "It's really nothing to worry about."
"You don't look well." Connie nervously observed. "I think you should see a doctor. I can ask my mom if she'd like to give you a checkup."
"I wouldn't want to bother her." Steven declared. "Besides, I already got a pretty okay idea of what doctors do when I went to see Lars in the hospital after his crash landing."
"Steven, you need to see a medical professional," Connie demanded. "Doesn't matter if my mom can see you or not, you need help."
"Okay, you're right." Steven accepted the opportunity while his face began to deform yet again. "Call me when she's ready."
--
Thankfully for Steven, Connie's mother had an opening and soon enough, Steven was sitting in her office with Connie by his side.
"You're lucky I had a cancellation today," Priyanka stated as she prepared for work. "Usually, I'm booked weeks in advance."
"Think you'll be able to help Steven out?" Connie asked her mother. "Even if this is some sort of Gem issue?"
"Gem issue or otherwise, he still has a human body, which means we can run tests." Priyanka remarked. "At the very least, we can see if you're suffering from a non-Gem condition, Steven."
"See? Everything will be fine." Connie assured Steven. "I'm sure everything will be fine." As Connie left the examination room, she began dialing on her phone and put it to her ear.
"Okay, give me all you got." Steven said reluctantly to the doctor.
"Alright, let's check for symptoms first." Priyanka said before putting a thermometer in Steven's ear to check his temperature. "Mild fever." She observed before walking away to pick up a stethoscope, returning to find that Steven is starting to once again glow pink. "Glowing pink color to the skin." Priyanka continued as she put the stethoscope to Steven's heart and then his gem. Next, she reached for a blood pressure device to check Steven's blood pressure, but it caused his arm to swell up and break the machine, causing his doctor to fall over in alarm.
However, Priyanka was quick to regain her composure as she looked over the notes she had taken. "Blood pressure is high!" she realized as she got up. "Well, these readings are quite interesting. Tell me, Steven, if you don't mind, who's your GP?"
"GP?" Steven wondered.
"Your general practitioner?" Priyanka explained to her patient. "As in, your regular doctor?"
"I guess you?" Steven answered confusedly. "I never have been to a doctor's appointment before, mostly because I have the Gems, my dad, or my healing spit to rely on whenever I get hurt."
"You're almost seventeen and you have never seen a doctor?!" a shocked Priyanka yelled, causing Steven to once again turn pink and inflate before she tried to calm him down. "I-it's okay, it's okay! I'll talk with your father later, but now we'll just need to run some more tests."
Steven looked nervously at Connie's mom as she walked over to a cupboard, opening it to fetch some hospital gowns. "Get undressed, then we'll help you into a gown." Priyanka ordered.
"Is that one of those blue things that don't cover your butt?" Steven asked embarrassedly before he was thrown a hospital gown.
"Yes, now let's get started." Priyanka declared before snapping on a rubber glove.
--
"Thank you for your testimony little Peridot." Cat's Eye thanked Squaridot, while licking the back of her hand, as the square-headed Peridot finished her testimony. "Tell us your designation so we may enter it into the records."
"Peridot, Facet-4E3M Cut-7ZY." Squaridot stated as she left the witness's stand and rejoined her classmates. "But everyone calls me Squaridot."
"Squaridot?" Cat's Eye repeated with utter disgust. "Who comes up with these abhorrent names?! I mean, Laz, Zuli, and now Squaridot?!"
"Would you care to get to the point?" Bismuth snarked to the catlike defendant.
"Gladly." Cat's Eye answered before clearing her throat. "Gems of this courtroom, the testimonies we have heard so far have given me enough to make my deduction." She announced to the courtroom. "These Crystal Gems are only kind to other Gems who treat them kindly in exchange. And that DOES, NOT, MAKE, SENSE!" She emphasized her declaration by slamming her fist into her open palm with each word. "If they say that they practice restorative justice, then why didn't they use that kind of justice on my clients here?"
"OBJECTION!" Amethyst yelled. "Girl, did you even see the Human Zoo back in the day?! Holly Blue was treating my quartz peeps like garbage!"
"That is because they were beneath her in the caste system!" Cat's Eye argued with Amethyst. "I swear you droll quartz, did you emerge yesterday or something?!"
"Actually, she was," Pearl answered for the purple Gem. "And you're just making stuff up in the hopes of sounding smart!"
"Do I have 'stupid' written on my gem, you no-good servant?!" Cat's Eye shouted at the white Gem, making sure to whip Pearl's hands for added emphasis. "Let's review what we have learned so far. Those two Lapis Lazulis retaliated violently when ordered to not terraform and their friend came close to poofing them both, yet 2F8D immediately forgot all that when coming to your silly little school!" she analyzed. "That does NOT, MAKE, SENSE!"
"Laz and I argued about going to Little Homeschool!" Zuli objected to Cat's Eye's observation. "An argument you obviously weren't there for-" Before Zuli could finish, she got a whip in the hands by Cat's Eye's riding crop.
"No backtalk!" Cat's Eye exclaimed as she returned to her statement. "Back on subject, then came Miss Squaridot here," she once again cringed at the name while gesturing to Squaridot. "who was given a second chance, yet was poofed without a second thought! That does NOT, MAKE, SENSE!"
"I tried to give Squari a second chance after I released her from her bubble," Peridot began. "but she then just ran off and got herself taken over by Hessonite's warship."
"Ah yes, the swashbuckling vigilante Hessonite." Cat's Eye said smugly. "Tell me, why isn't she here today to give a testimony?"
"Hessonite is off weeding out more of Black Rutile's supporters across many of our former colonies, alongside Citrine." Yellow Diamond answered.
"Speaking of Black Rutile, what if, and a very big if here." Cat's Eye stated. "What if Black Rutile wanted to do better than the Crystal Gems by offering these lost Gems a helping hand?"
"OBJECTION!" Pearl roared and once again pointed straight at Cat's Eye. "That no-good Rutile didn't care one bit for her subordinates! Not only did she let them all get defeated by us, but she abused her Topaz as well!"
"As I had stated earlier with Holly Blue, the Topaz was merely a subordinate to Black Rutile, especially since the Rutile had such a shockingly high status in White Diamond's court." Cat replied.
"Same with my Ruby and Pearl that fused into Rhodonite," Morganite spoke up. "It was only natural that we mistreated those beneath us."
"And on the topic of Pink Diamond's entourage," Cat declared. "allow me to call her former Pearl to the stand."
Rising from her seat, Volleyball separated from her Little Homeschool classmates to walk to the witness's stand, where Cat was awaiting her.
"My dear Pearl, you truly deserved a better Diamond than Pink." Cat cooed to Volleyball while stroking her broken eye, which was now showing the absolute faintest signs of a pupil following her fusion with her white-colored successor at the Reef. "Tell us all this court needs to know sweetie,
"Actually, you can call me Volleyball now." Volleyball corrected the defense attorney. "That's the name Steven gave me."
"VOLLEYBALL?!" Cat's Eye shrieked outrageously at the top of her lungs, quickly returning to her normal condescending tone. "I shouldn't have spoken too soon after complaining about that Peridot." She muttered while pointing a thumb over to Squaridot. "Now tell me, word on the street is that you may know a thing or two about this revolution. Is this true?"
"Yes, it's true." Volleyball revealed remorsefully, shocking the prosecutors and the jury. "Not too long after Era 3 began, I was left wondering what purpose I could still serve now that Pink Diamond was gone, until Black Rutile and Holly Blue Agate approached me with the chance to seek revenge by spying on their enemies."
"That is a bold-faced lie if I ever saw one!" Holly Blue fibbed while beginning to sweat profusely. "I never approached her in the slightest, the poor Pearl came crawling to me in tears, begging, no, pleading that she get some sort of payback for the abuse she suffered!"
"Really laying it on thick Holly." Morganite stoically muttered to the Agate.
"Yes, I can clearly see you lying." Pearl added before she walked over for Volleyball. "But as for you Volley, is it true? Did you really join Black Rutile and spy on us this whole time?"
"I'm truly sorry Pearl, they gave me no other choice." Volleyball apologized, now on the verge of tears. "I was so horrified by how they wanted to fight back against you, that I decided to back out after you and Steven offered to fix my eye." Volleyball then began to sob as she rushed out of the witness's stand and into Pearl's arms. "Please forgive me, I just didn't know any better!"
"It's okay VB, I'm here." Pearl comforted her crying fellow ex-servant. "Just let it all out."
"Wah wah wah, I betrayed your trust!" Cat's Eye mockingly cried. "Please forgive me even though I was allied with a proud sociopath! Oh brother, this era has lost all sense of justice. At least give her a week's punishment, anything."
"Big talk coming from the alleycat who doesn't have a single clue about justice." Pearl growled at Cat while Volleyball's tears started drying and she returned to the jury.
"Big talk coming from a Pearl who wanted to be free despite still essentially serving her Diamond." Cat snapped back at the Pearl. "And on that note, I feel we are ignoring the big Jasper in the room." Biggs Jasper raised her hand. "I wasn't talking to you!" Biggs lowered her hand while Cat kept a stiff upper lip. "But really, I wish to speak of a certain Jasper that has been housed on Earth lately."
"Here we go." Lapis rolled her eyes at whatever outlandish claims the defendant was going to make now.
"You see, the Jasper is just as much of a victim of Pink Diamond's faked death as pretty much everyone on this planet." Cat's Eye proclaimed. "And did the Crystal Gems ever try to extend a hand in friendship and sympathy? NO! They just let her get dragged to the bottom of the ocean in an unstable fusion, fall into an earthquake, rocketed sky-high by that Lapis, and later corrupted! That does-"
"Not make sense, we get it." Garnet interrupted what was essentially Cat's catchphrase at this point. "We tried so many times to help Jasper, but she just kept refusing out of her vendetta against Rose."
"And doesn't anyone find it ironic that Jasper has a burning hatred for a Gem that was her Diamond in disguise?" Cat shook her head with a cheeky smile. "Oh, how cruel fate can be."
"Good grief, how long can this puddytat keep yapping?" Amethyst whispered to Pearl, who just groaned and got back to her book.
--
As for Steven, Priyanka had gotten to work on examining her unusual patient. However, with each test she made him take, things just kept going wrong. Sticking a tongue depressor in Steven's mouth made him glow pink for the second time this appointment, taking his height stretched his neck up high, and testing his reflexes bubbled the hammer she was using. But it was taking Steven's X-rays that really clued Priyanka in on what was going on.
"So this is an average human skeleton." Priyanka demonstrated the X-ray image of exactly that to Steven before moving on to X-rays of the Crystal Gems. "By comparison, these are X-ray images that the Crystal Gems allowed me to take for research purposes. Their charts look like this."
Due to Gems having bodies of light, only their gemstones could be pictured. And in Amethyst's case, whatever she ate that day could be seen too. The doctor then showed off Steven's own skeleton, which was covered in cracks. "And this is your chart." Priyanka continued. "Definitely the skeleton of a human your age, albeit quite a large amount of fractures in the skull." She pointed out the various cracks that decorated Steven's skull. "Yet despite the injuries, everything is still perfectly aligned. Almost like the injuries healed just as fast as they were gained."
"That's good, right?" Steven nervously asked.
"Well, you've made miraculous recoveries," Priyanka replied. "but that doesn't change the fact that you've clearly been traumatized. You may have recovered physically, but what about mentally?"
"Are you saying there's something wrong with my brain?!" Steven cried as he glowed pink.
"Not wrong!" Priyanka assured Steven while kneeling to his gaze, turning his body back to its normal hue. "It's that adverse childhood experiences, or childhood trauma, can leave a lasting impact on how your body reacts to stress." She explained. "This can affect all kinds of development, social, emotional, and physical. When humans are in crisis, their brains release a hormone called cortisol. It can cause your heart to race, your muscles to tense, among other effects. I wonder if your body is perhaps reacting to the Gem equivalent of cortisol, if any. Steven, can you recall any childhood experiences that particularly stuck with you?"
"I can list so many." Steven stated before he began recounting some traumatic experiences. "It all started when I learned my favorite ice cream was discontinued around the same time I nearly got eaten by a bug monster. Then there were even more monsters that threatened my life, I got stuck in a bubble & nearly drowned, I made a new friend who nearly killed me; which is pretty often, I got turned into a giant pulsating blob of cat heads after an attempt at shapeshifting, got so old I nearly died, saw the Gems die multiple times, I woke up on a spaceship with a black eye, and more recently got tossed off a cliff."
"Steven, this is serious!" Priyanka yelled worriedly.
"That was only some of the earlier stuff!" Steven cried. "You really should've been there when I was tossed off the cliff. Black Rutile was a sociopath and proud of it!"
"I think all these experiences have subjected your body to an almost inhuman level of stress, and it's affected your ability to healthily react to new forms of stress." Priyanka deduced as Steven looked back on more harrowing experiences he's been through, from legitimately traumatizing moments to parts that would at first be seen as mere jokes or accidents. "You've been dealing with genuine threats to your life from such a young age, whether big or small, your body is responding to such minuscule threats like your life is always in danger!"
"But, why am I only swelling up now?!" Steven began fretting as he slowly felt his body change once more.
"Stress can be far less harmful when we have a circle of loved ones who can help you," Priyanka advised, causing Steven to flashback to yesterday evening's failed proposal. "Maybe if you've been drifting away from people who would've supported you, or if a recent experience had felt particularly off-"
Before Priyanka can finish, Steven began trembling in place while bolting from his chair before he began to swell up to possibly the biggest size he's ever been today, to the point of cracking the ceiling with a bash of his head.
--
"There are just some who don't want to be helped, and we try to respect that!" Pearl kept arguing with Cat's Eye while everyone else in the courtroom awkwardly spectating the event.
"And there are also some who you've forced to change without their consent!" Cat's Eye replied, baring her sharp teeth at the former servant. "Think of it, Black Rutile believed she could be a better ruler because she would take into account the feelings of everyone!"
"Are you sure you're not another one of her spies?!" Pearl asked, folding her arms and turning away from the defendant.
"I couldn't care less about what she's doing, I just think she raises many good points for a maniac!" Cat answered while her stuck-up image began cracking apart more and more, slowly revealing the petulant aristocrat underneath. "For example, in ending an oppressive empire, Steven created an even worse one where all who don't agree with him are deemed outcasts!"
"Steven is simply trying his best!" Pearl yelled back.
"You know, I am so glad that we invited our Homeschool classes, because this is way too much fun for just us three to get involved in." Amethyst whispered to the other Little Homeworld teachers.
"You're right, watching an uppercrust get humiliated puts a real big smile on my face." Bismuth grinned.
"They've been going on for too long." Morganite mumbled as her face was buried in the table. "Can't we just shut them up and reach a verdict already?"
"Well, if you're so loving towards Steven, then where is he now?" Cat's Eye asked one final question. "Did you actually care for him to begin with?"
"That is where you are absolutely wrong Cat." Pearl declared with a smug grin as she presented George Ikari's book to her opponent. "Steven is currently going through some tough times, and we're trying our best to help him thanks to this book from Earth. The author has a son much like Steven who lost his mother too, so he knows what he's talking about." With that, Pearl returned the book to her gem and took a bow. "Court adjourned."
It was here where Cat's Eye finally lost all control and lunged at Pearl with a mighty yowl. Gone was the smug and austere wannabe lawyer, and in with the furious predator going in for the kill.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS!" Cat's Eye shrieked as she wrestled with Pearl and kept trying to chomp at her face. "I AM CAT'S EYE, AND I WILL NOT BE TALKED DOWN TO BY A MERE PEARL!"
"Woo, catfight!" Amethyst cheered before Garnet put a stop to her revelry and prepared for a fight.
"Get ready Gems, we're in for a fight." Garnet declared while summoning her gauntlets, and the other Gems prepared for battle against the feral defendant. But fortunately for them, and unfortunately for Cat, the judge finally decided enough was enough.
"Okay, I've had enough sitting down and watching." Yellow declared fiercely before getting up from her throne and flicking a ball of electricity at Cat's Eye, making yellow lines course through her body and finally poofing her, leaving only her small gemstone to be collected by Yellow Pearl. "Now that that's settled, have we reached a verdict?"
"I believe so." Pearl responded after getting up and dusting herself off before turning to the other Gems. "What shall be decided?"
The Gems in the jury all rose up, their decision clear as day. "We, the jury, hereby declare Holly Blue Agate, Morganite, and Navy guilty as charged. In addition, Cat's Eye shall be tried for public assault of the prosecutors." Squaridot announced on the behalf of her classmates, to the horror of Holly Blue as she and her two compatriots were escorted away by Amethysts. While Morganite and Navy had resigned themselves to their fates, Holly was far less than pleased. In fact, she was furious.
"Get your hands off me, you no-good Kindergarten spawn!" Holly Blue shrieked at the Amethysts dragging her away by the arms before turning to the Crystal Gems with hatred in her eyes. "I hope you're happy Crystal Gems! Era 3 has destroyed this planet!" she yelled at the Gems. "Pretty soon, this planet is going to burn! We're all going to die! The Gem race shall be driven to extinction all because of you!"
As soon as Holly Blue was fully removed from the premises, all was finally quiet in the makeshift courtroom as the trial adjourned. Pearl let out a dramatic sigh as Garnet and Amethyst helped her back to her feet and walked her back to the prosecutor's table.
"Court is usually a lot more funny on TV." Amethyst remarked. "What Cat and Holly tried to do was just sad."
"Still, what if they're right?" Pearl moaned in exhaustion and grief. "What if we are soon to be our kind's downfall? Maybe we should've just ended colonization and left it at that."
"Don't get too down on yourself Miss Pearl." Blue Zircon lent some comforting words to Pearl. "You all tried the best you could, and that's all that should matter."
"Uh, can I go now?" Yellow Zircon shakily inquired to her fellow Gems, still reeling from being publically humiliated at the witness's stand.
"Yeah, you're dismissed." Blue Zircon told her fellow Zircon and turned back to Pearl.
"Yeah, we tried our best with Era 3, kinda like how we're trying our best with Steven." Lapis reiterated the other blue Gem's kind words. "Speaking of which, wonder how he's doing?"
"I'll go call him right now!" Pearl stated eagerly as she unsheathed her phone from her gem and began dialing Steven, but she got no answer. "Darn, no signal on Homeworld." She huffed in frustration. "Well, I hope he's doing fine."
--
Little did Pearl know, there was more than one reason why as to why Steven was unable to reach her, that reason being he was so stressed out, he was swelling up to a massive size.
As Dr. Laurie walked past the office Steven was in with a cup of coffee, he took one look at the giant pink boy, then back at his mug before dumping its contents into a nearby drinking fountain while Connie raced back to the office to aid her friend.
"Mom, what's happening?!" Connie asked her mother while they watched the inflating Steven fill up most of the doctor's office.
"I'm not sure dear, I just asked if he had any stressful experiences lately." Priyanka answered, trying to remain as calm in a crisis as possible while other doctors huddle around the window to watch what was happening, along with a man in sunglasses who seemed to blend in with the crowd.
"Steven, you don't think?" Connie then asked Steven.
"It's not you Connie, it's everything that's been going down lately!" Steven yelled as he grew larger and larger with every second.
"What is he talking about?" Priyanka asked, glaring at Connie.
"You haven't told your mom yet?!" Steven yelled.
"Told me what?!" Priyanka started yelling as well.
"It's not your fault Connie!" Steven tried to assure Connie amidst his growing stress. "But I still think you need to leave!"
"I refuse to leave your side!" Connie's mom fiercely declared. "This is a medical emergency!"
"Hey, you know one of us can take over!" one of the doctors watching Steven called from outside.
"No, he needs to be alone!" Connie stated. "I think anyone else being in here with him is making things worse!"
When Steven's height increased to the point of ripping his hospital gown, breaking the ceiling over him, and causing alarms to sound, the doctors took it as their cue to leave. "Point taken." That same doctor who suggested one of them take care of Steven realized before rushing away.
"Oh no!" Steven was in full-on panic mode now. If he grew any larger, the hospital would surely be destroyed. "Please, just go!"
"Steven!" Connie yelled sorrowfully.
"I just…" Steven began to cry before starting to get angry. "I CAN'T BE AROUND YOU RIGHT NOW!" The Maheswarans braced for impact as Steven's screaming broke the window behind them when suddenly, Greg came barging into the office.
"Steven!" Greg called his son's name while Connie and Priyanka turned to notice him.
"Dad?!" Steven exclaimed while finally beginning to settle down at the sight of his father.
"I'm here for you kiddo!" Greg declared as he ran up to his giant son, turning to the Maheswarans who took it as their cue to leave the area as well.
"Come on Mom, let's give them some space." Connie said to her mother as they abdicated the office.
"Alright." Priyanka agreed and took her daughter's hand while Greg took Steven's side.
"How did you know I was here?" Steven asked Greg.
"Connie called me an hour ago." Greg answered comfortingly. "Plus, I was the only one she could reach since she told me the Gems were off in space today."
"Connie?" Steven called for his friend when she and her mother were outside. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Connie beamed and spoke to him through the broken window. "I'll come when you're ready."
"I'm so sorry Steven." Greg apologized to Steven. "If I had known, I definitely would've been a big help."
"It's alright Dad," Steven sighed. "you were super busy and I didn't know what was going on."
"Come on Steven, talk to me," Greg suggested. "Just you and me, father to son."
"I, well, um," Steven stammered before tears began welling up in his eyes again. "I tried proposing to Connie!"
"You what?!" Greg yelped in alarm. "Steven, aren't you a little too young to think about marriage right now?"
"I know." Steven kept on crying. "That's one of the reasons why she said no."
"Oh, Steven." Greg sighed.
"My body, it keeps reacting like it's always the end of the world." Steven kept on complaining tearfully. "I think I've nearly witnessed the end of the world so many times now, that everything that goes wrong for me just feels that extreme! I should be feeling happy these days, Earth is at peace and it's Era 3, but Black Rutile is still out there saying I'm a bad person and I'm swelling up over all these third-era problems! What do I do now?! How do I move on after every horrible thing that's happened to me?! How can I still live my life when every day it feels like I'm going to die?!"
Despite Steven being overcome with trauma to the point of sobbing, Greg was there to lend a hand like he always did. "It's going to be alright Schtu-ball." He said while holding his son's giant finger. "I'm here for you till the end of the line."
At long last, Steven finally calmed down and began to regress to his normal size, and he only had one request for Greg. "I just want to go home."
"You bet." Greg obliged, and Steven began to fetch his clothes while Connie and Priyanka stepped back into the office. "So, what's up doc?"
"This has certainly been an eventful appointment," Priyanka stated shakily. "Real eye-opener. As I'm sure your son has already told you, he has been through more stress than is normal for a human. I suggest finding ways to monitor these breakdowns."
"I'll see what I can do." Greg nodded while Steven returned to his side fully dressed when Connie gave Steven a big hug.
Outside the office, the doctor in the sunglasses from earlier peeked from behind a corner and spoke into an earpiece. "Giant boy crisis averted." He spoke in a deep voice to someone on the other end. "Yes sir, retrieving copies of the Gems' X-ray scans as we speak." Looking around to see if anyone had caught him, the man then took off his doctor's coat to reveal a black suit underneath and walked away with no one the wiser.
--
That night, Steven had been returned home and taken to bed, where Greg had prepared him a warm cup of tea and a sympathetic ear to his son's plight.
"I guess I thought I could follow Connie to college." Steven explained to his dad while sipping the tea. "Like, if we got married, I'd know what to do with myself for once. But turns out I still gotta figure everything out on my own."
"Cut yourself some slack, kiddo." Greg smiled earnestly. "It's okay to be worried and make mistakes when figuring out what to do with life, nothing unusual. Okay, maybe turning pink and the swelling is kind of unusual, but I'm sure the Gems will know what to do. And if you want to be a giant boy, I can lend you the carwash to take a shower in."
"Yeah, that's the thing." Steven revealed calmly. "I haven't told the Gems everything yet because I don't want them to worry so much, just like the old days when I was just some little kid who was way over his head." That was when he made a realization and spat out his tea. "Wait Dad, your tour!"
"Don't worry about me." Greg assured his son. "Shep and Sadie will be fine on their own. Just get some rest Steven; you can't just solve every problem in one night. Speaking of the Gems, where are they?"
Just then, the father and son heard the Warp Pad activate from Steven's conservatory, and the Crystal Gems marched into his room utterly exhausted from the trial they had just returned from.
"If I meet another Gem like Cat's Eye ever again, I swear I'm going to freak!" Pearl yelled with her hands buried in her face when she noticed Steven and Greg in the same room. "Oh, good evening you two. How was your day?"
"Nothing really special you guys." Steven fibbed. "Nothing at all."
--
So ends Growing Pains. Have to say, this might be one of the longest chapters of Alternate Universe yet, probably because of the B-plot. How hateable did you think I made Cat's Eye? I specifically wrote her with Cruella de Vil and Franziska von Karma in mind. And speaking of despicable characters, next chapter has Steven facing quite possibly his greatest challenge yet: making Kevin a better person. Oh, this should be fun.
#steven universe#steven universe future#fanfiction#steven universe alternate future#steven quartz universe#garnet#amethyst#pearl#connie maheswaran#priyanka maheswaran#greg universe#lapis lazuli#peridot#bismuth#holly blue agate#morganite#navy#yellow diamond
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Strawberry Sundae
Summary: It's story time! Have you ever wondered why Dante affectionate strawberry sundaes so much? Well Patty has and luckily for her, he is about to tell her. It will just cost her a small favour. A man got to pay his debts remember.
Tags: ANGST (but with some very cute moments) / Dante’s childhood / childhood trauma
Author’s note: This is my take on Dante’s origins and also my first time writing for the Devil May Cry fandom. I hope I did it right and that you will love it.
Set whenever you want but definitely after the DMC Anime. I made the reader female (in case I write a sequel. I have ideas for one, just tell me if you want one), but it can definitely be read as Gen!Reader if you make some small changes.
To most people Patty Lowell looked so cute and angelic with her girly lacy dresses and her silk ribbons in her baby blond hair they’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. But to Dante, she was the most annoying brat that ever walked this earth and, even though he would never admit it, also one of his dearest friends. And like all his friends, he owed her big.
“I’ll erase that from your tab.” She said as she swallowed a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.
“Oh c’mon! You keeping counts now?” Dante harrumphed and watched the kid wipe her mouth like a very distinguished lady. “You spend too much time with Lady.”
“Not too much. Just enough to know you owe me a trip to the beach, two dresses, a dozen ice cream cones and six strawberries sundaes” She counted on her fingers and Dante sighed as he slouched in the fake-leather seat of Freddy’s diner. “Well, you can’t have it all now, can you?”
“You’ve been saying this for months. And for months you’ve been eating hundreds of sundaes and bought none for me.” She grumbled, staring at him with a pout as he nonchalantly took the strawberry on top of his sundae to eat it, eyes closed to savour the sweetness of the fruit in his mouth. “What’s with your obsession with strawberry sundaes anyway?” She asked, genuinely curious. After all, even after spending so much time with Dante, watching him evolve in his natural habitat (meaning the Devil May Cry) and coming to the conclusion that Dante was a very unique species of man, one that whose diet was only based on pizzas and strawberry sundaes and that knew nothing of women, Patty still hadn’t figured why he was the way he was.
Dante opened an eye to see her impatiently waiting for an answer. “If I tell you, would you consider erasing … let’s say six sundaes of my tab?” He smirked, knowing Patty would not resist the curiosity to know more about him.
“That could be arranged. But your story better be good!”
STRAWBERRY SUNDAE
One more step and this would be the furthest Dante had ever been from his house. Of course, he had dared follow Vergil down to that weird old man’s house to secretly spy on his brother, wondering what was so interesting and fun in keeping a wrinkly company but he had never stepped a foot in the city. Never could. The only time he had tried and had somehow managed to go down the hill of his red home without tumbling down the steep rocky stairs and lay even just a toe on the urban pavement he was now standing on, his father and his sharp demonic earring had found him and brought him back home with a firm grip around the collar of his white shirt. Sparda had scolded him so much that day that even Vergil hadn’t dared smirking.
But here he was. Wet, trembling and cold, under a pouring rain, wondering where to go, what to do, both feet on the pavement, his tiny arms holding on tight to his father’s sword which was way bigger than he was. He had never been so terrified, so alert, his blue eyes widened and scanning all his surroundings in every direction possible like a poor defenceless animal fearing for its life, wondering if a deadly predator was secretly watching him crouched in the thickest shadow, the same kind of predator that took his mother and brother away from him.
He wanted to call for help, ask someone, anyone for guidance but he didn’t know whom to trust or if he could trust anyone. All he knew was that he had to be strong, that he had to be a big boy, a man. That’s what his mother had told him before leaving, before … A tear streamed down his childish face. Not the first one tonight. He wiped it with his sooty knuckle but a new one appeared, bigger and more painful. It stung his eye and he cried harder. A devil should not cry but he was so tired. And he wanted his mama. And he wanted his big brother. But they were gone and behind him, his house up the hill was just a pile of smoking ash and burnt bricks.
“Why are you crying?” Dante jumped and his small yet strong grip grabbed a hold of Rebellion’s hilt. It took his eyes a short second to fall upon the face of a little girl holding a green frog-shaped umbrella above both their heads. “Are you lost?” She said as she tried to catch a glimpse of Dante’s face hidden behind layers of soot and wet hair. “Is it a real sword?”
“Don’t touch it!” Dante growled, pressing his father’s sword tighter against his chest, shielding it from the curious child as she tried to put her fingers on the legendary weapon. It had seen Vergil do that countless of times. And though it never worked with him, it formidably worked with the child in front of him. “It’s my dad’s.”
“Is your dad a knight?” She questioned with amazed (colour) eyes, imagining heroes in shining armours resembling the ones in the stories her mother would read her before bed. “My dad is the Legendary Dark Knight.” Dante spat, scowling behind his silver hair falling over his eyes, a pitiful and vain attempt at sending the little girl packing. After all, to her eyes, he didn’t look impressive at all, more like a wet small kitten that someone had abandoned in the street.
She shrugged “My dad doesn’t have a sword and he is not a legendary dark prince or whatever but he has a mighty spatula and his strawberry sundaes are the best in the whole kingdom!” She exclaimed with an over-the-top enthusiasm that made Dante’s weary frown even more pronounced. “That’s the name of my father’s diner.” She pointed at the pinkish red neon sign across the street. Kingdom’s diner. “You’re hungry?” Dante thought he wasn’t until he heard a rumbling in his tummy. Yes, maybe he was even though his heart was preoccupied by other things than hunger. “Come on. Follow me.”
He hesitated for a few seconds, watching the girl cross the crowded street in her way-too-large yellow oilskin - which was probably not hers now that he thought about it – and feeling the rain pouring on his shivering body again. “Well? What are you waiting for?”
With one last look at his destroyed home up on the hill, Dante finally took a step towards the girl waiting for him by the warm neon lights of the diner. And he took another step, and another, feeling a weird weight forming in his stomach. A mix of apprehension and hope. Apprehension of what’s waiting in this unknown land and hope that his father would suddenly appear and bring him back home. But once more, Sparda never showed up and the child was left alone.
Dante had never ventured that far away from home but he had no home anymore, right?
The diner was warm and cosy, with red plastic booth seats and speckled grey linoleum-covered tables that were incredibly clean and shiny. On the walls there were vintage-like pictures of old cars, old advertisements and old Hollywood stars who were almost all complete strangers to Dante apart from a glamorous blond woman with a weird mole and another one with a tiara and a cigarette holder. Pretty sure he had seen them both in some boring movies he had seen – or slept through - with his mother and Vergil. Mama. Vergil. He missed them already. Terribly.
A new tear fell along his cold cheek and Dante looked down, devastated that he would never see them again; guilty that he could not save them, angry that his father had not been there to protect them. And with his wet sorrow came scorching flashes and piercing screams. But soon they were covered by the sound of weird music sizzling in a machine that looked like from another time. “I always listen to music when I feel bad. I like music. Do you like music?” She was impossibly chatty but deep down Dante knew it was only to take his mind off whatever she thought he was thinking about. After all, he would use the same trick on his brother. “There are a hundred of songs in this jukebox.” So that was this hellish machine was. A jukebox. “Pick one. I’ll make some strawberry sundae” She smiled and disappeared behind the counter which was way too high for Dante to see what she was doing. “Oh but don’t play the music too loud. My parents are sleeping upstairs.”
He didn’t know how it worked but he thought that pushing a button would do the trick. And so he did. And he almost fell on his butt when the jukebox started shaking and doing weird sizzling noises. Had he just broken it? “I… I” He mumbled pointing at the machine and the girl’s childish head popped up from behind the counter a bit like a funny rabbit leaves his hole. “Kick it!” She said and Dante looked at her, harrumphed and unsure he had heard right. His mother never allowed him to kick anything … especially not Vergil … and he kicked Vergil a lot … because he deserved it.
“There!” The girl approached and gave the dying machine a small yet firm kick that made it come back to life. “It does that sometimes.”
“What’s with all the racket?” A loud voice growled and a man with tousled and sparse black hair appeared from upstairs. Only wearing an old navy blue robe over a white t-shirt and a pair of checked slippers, he looked asleep and yet angry. “Y/N what are you doing … up?” His somewhat aggressiveness turned into confusion when he saw Dante standing next to his beloved daughter. He blinked a couple times and shook his head to make sure he was perfectly awake and not dreaming. What was this boy doing in his restaurant? All wet and covered in soot? “Who are you?” He managed to voice.
Dante opened his mouth though unsure what to answer. “He’s my friend.” The girl replied. “Your friend?” She nodded vigorously. “I was making him a strawberry sundae.”
If there was two things Mister Y/LN had a soft spot for, it was food – sugary and greasy food – and his precious daughter Y/N. She was his little princess, his only daughter, the apple of his eye (even when there was sleep crust in its corner like right now). He could not refuse her anything and could not stay mad at her for more than a couple of minutes to the great disappointment of his wife. And even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help it.
“Y/N” He sighed and went to kneel in front of his daughter. “You cannot invite a little boy that late at night. I’m sure his parents must be very worried.” He glanced at Dante who looked down his brown boots hiding his eyes yet again behind his silver hair. What curious hair. “But since he is here, let’s eat those strawberry sundaes.” The little girl grinned and ran back to finish her creamy dessert with an enthusiasm that made the man smile for a small second.
Even though Mister Y/LN was weak for his daughter he was still a man of reason. Something deep in his guts was telling him something was wrong with that kid and the last thing he wanted was trouble. Who was he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? Where were his parents? Was he some kind of street kid? A child of drug dealers from the rough areas of Red Grave? Should he call the police? Maybe so. Certainly so. They would certainly know what to do. It was their job after all. He was just a cook, a sleepy cook. What could he do, except offering that scrawny kid a strawberry sundae? “Why don’t you sit, boy?” He waved at the stool and Dante climbed on it without saying a word. “I’ll be right back.”
“So what’s your name?” The little girl said as she placed two coupe glasses filled with cream, ice cream and strawberries right before Dante’s eyes that immediately ogled at the dessert with greediness. So much sugar, so much cream, so many strawberries. He loved chocolate, but this, this looked like even better than chocolate and his stomach seemed to agree.
Excited to taste it, he went to grab the spoon that was placed by the couple but was immediately stopped. “Wait. I’m not done.” Y/N shouted and, with a frown and the tip of her pink tongue out, cautiously topped both sundaes with a cherry and two pink wafers. “There. Now you can eat it.” She barely had time to finish the sentence that Dante quickly stuffed a generous spoonful in his tiny mouth. OH GOD! If his mother saw him right now eating so much sugar in the middle of the night she would be furious. But this was the most delicious thing in the world. After pizza of course.
He ate another spoonful, and another, humming after each, as he was slowly reaching a comforting sugary paradise. “I’m guessing you like it.” The little girl giggled, laughing at his mouth as round as a balloon and the cream running from the corner of his lips. Dante froze at the laugh and stare at her with a blush creeping up his inflated cheeks until he swallowed with a big gulp. “Yeah.” He confessed and Y/N smiled at the small amount of joy she caught in his childish voice.
“You still haven’t told me your name. I’m Y/N by the way.” She reached out to shake his hand and Dante stared at it for a few seconds, remembering what his mother had told him as she hid him a wardrobe.
You must change your name. Forget your past and start a new life as someone else. But who could he be? And could he be someone else? After all, he had always been Dante, the restless daredevil son of Sparda and Eva and annoying little brother to Vergil who always picked a fight for fun and found ways to be involved in new kinds of mischiefs.
There was a silence, heavy and pregnant, as the boy tried to answer the questions in his confused little head and as the girl patiently waited for him to talk. And only the lively music from the jukebox could be heard in the room. And it sang to Dante ‘Hey there Anthony boy. Why are you in such a rush (go!). The girl, she wanna talk to you. Look at him, how he blush (go!)’ giving birth to his new identity. A new beginning.
“I’m Anthony.” He finally grabbed her hand and she shook it with a smile that he tried to mimic. An effort he thought he would have never done tonight but that he did for her. Calm down, Tony me boy. “Tony for short.”
“Well nice to meet you, Tony. I’m sure we’re going to be good friends.”
And with a new spoonful of strawberry sundae he said goodbye to Dante. Hey there, Anthony boy!
***
“That was a lovely story, Dante. Sad but lovely.” Patty finally declared after being incredibly silent during Dante’s childhood story. A first. “Glad you liked it.” Dante said with a small smile that was barely concealing the sadness that this memory had brought back. “So does that mean those six sundaes are off my tab?”
“I guess so.” She shrugged as she drank the ice cream in her coupe.
“Great.” He winked and stood up, throwing a bill on the table before putting his long red coat on. “So … you love strawberry sundaes because they were the first things that gave you comfort after you lost your mom?”
“No, I love strawberry sundaes because they remind me why humans are sometimes worth fighting for.”
But mostly, he liked them because they reminded him of someone who had helped him build a new life, someone who had given him kindness, generosity and love when he thought that all he could expect from life was sorrow and pain. They reminded him of you.
Yes, that’s why he loved strawberry sundaes.
#devil may cry#dante#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc fanfiction#dante fanfiction#dante x reader#strawberry sundae
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HIRAETH
Chapter 5
Main Masterlist
Karima walks down the dingy halls of the rundown motel. She listens to every little sound, trying to distinguish the steps of rodents from the steps of any potential witnesses that she doesn’t need.
Beginning to turn a corner, a door opens near the end of the hallway, catching her off-guard. She quietly gasps, and pushes her back against the wall and becomes invisible to the human eye.
The person slowly proceeds forward, each of their thudding footsteps vibrating the floor and echoing against the walls. It was as if they were walking in slow-motion or trying to fuck around with someone.
But that theory was quickly debunked as Karima saw a heavy-set man walk by with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth and his eyes closed.
“What the fuck,” the teen muttered quietly to herself.
She needed to get in and get out cause this place was really giving her the heebie-jeebies.
She stealthily continued her way down the hall, keeping aware of her surroundings knowing this wasn’t the most trustworthy place. As she neared the last door, she reached to her side, her hand hovering over her knife. She unsheathed the weapon and rested her other hand on the doorknob.
The teen quietly twists it and finds the room clean (well as clean as this place could be) and empty as if no one had ever been there. She walked in tensely and flipped the lamp on, causing a dull light to emerge.
She surveys the room and after finding no immediate threat, Karima begins to scramble through everything; the draws, the bathroom, the closet, all of it. She then reaches the bed. She doesn’t want to look, if she’s being honest. Because if she finds nothing, then she has no leads. If she has no leads, then she loses her. And she can’t lose her. Not again.
She inhales deeply, and exhales deeper. A trembling hand reaches out and starts to pull back the covers. Her hand pauses briefly before she decides to rip off the band-aid.
After the covers, it was the pillows. After the uncomfortable ass pillows, it’s the whole damn mattress itself. She assesses the bed frame and finds nothing. She looks through the pillow cases and finds nothing. She cut open the pillow and still nothing.
Karima takes a breath, trying to calm down her rapidly beating heart.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she mutters to herself as she cuts open the mattress.
Her arm slips through the well-sized slit she created and immediately, it comes into contact with a folder. She immediately snatches the material out and rips the orange holder open.
Inside of it was over two thousand dollars and a section of a map.
Karima let out a sigh and ran a hand over her flushed face. Putting the items she found in her jacket, she headed towards the door.
Right before exiting, a glint of light flashed against her eyes. Looking on the headboard, she stalks towards the furniture and reaches out for the shiny metal. In her hand was a chain with a pyramid pendant. The teen turns the object over in her palms and on the back, it read, “I pledge.”
Karima bowed her head, then lifted it, giving the room one last look over before shutting the light off and leaving.
-
Natasha Romanoff was never one to be vulnerable. Whenever she got a splinter, the woman never whimpered or winced. It was simply a task of finding something small enough and yanking it out. Whenever she had gone undercover, she never shed tears over the mental and emotional toll pretending to be someone else took. She just did her job, no questions asked or hesitation given
Growing up, she was taught that being vulnerable equated to being weak. It has been engraved in her brain like her mind was some sort of headstone; it was all she would ever be.
A weapon that never wept.
When the Avengers were first assembled, Natasha was... skeptical, one could say. These were people she didn’t necessarily trust, but she had to for the fate of the world.
It was a whirlwind, to say the least. She had been trained to be a spy and use her body and reproductive organs to her advantage. She was never taught how to deal with aliens or other-worldly creatures. But she did it because she was, however, brought up to believe that failure results in punishment. And Natasha refused to fail.
As time went on, the heroes slowly became people she could rely on. They would always have her back and vice versa. Regardless of that, she would never share her deepest, darkest secrets or thoughts.
So when she jolted up from her bed, sticky from sweat, the woman quickly wiped those few tears that had been mistakenly shed and went to the shower which washed away any remnants of the involuntary recollection of her past.
It was as if her mind was on auto-pilot as she made her way to the kitchen, ready to prepare some tea. And it was only then that her mind became aware of her surroundings.
At the counter, someone was hunched over. They were holding a small glass before bringing it to their mouth.
“Tony?”
The man shot his head up and straightened his back. He cleared his throat and nodded at his company.
“Hey.”
The red-head continued walking over and sat across from the genius and gave him a once-over.
He looked tired; drained.
He slouched over his drink and stared into the abyss that was the liquid.
“Why are you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “You?”
She nodded in response and muttered a quiet ‘same’ before they were both forcefully sucked back into awkward silence.
Tony let out a sigh after a moment and pushed himself up to grab a second glass. He reached under the counter into the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of vodka.
The man pushed both items to the woman who had an apprehensive eyebrow raised.
He gestured towards the liquid in encouragement and went back to sipping his own.
Letting out a sigh, Natasha filled her cup and slouched against the kitchen counter as well.
The philanthropist raised his glass. In response, the former spy copied his actions and clinked them together.
It was a silent vow to at least try.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Hiraeth Taglist
@lizlil, @bellero, @ravennight41, @yasminwashere, @cay-writes-fan-fiction514
Permanent Taglist
@stillmanicc, @annestine
#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers x black!reader#avengers!reader#avengers x oc#avengers x black!oc#avengers x teen!reader#natasha romanoff#black widow#clint barton#hawkeye#bucky barnes#winter soldier#steve rogers#captain america#tony stark#tony stank#iron man#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#peter parker#spiderman#bruce banner#hulk#thor#loki#vision#james rhodes#war machine#teen!oc
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“Sweet as Cherry Pie.”
Peaky Blinders One Shot
Summary: Y/n is Alfie Solomons’ younger sister who comes to Camden town & Small Heath. Why? She’s their secret weapon: sassy, unpredictable and insults their enemies to filth. Or maybe she’s just bored and needed the first enemy she sees to throw a comment at. Either way, Alfie couldn’t ask for a better sister.
Pairing: ---
Tags: swearing, mentions of violence, weapons, drug & alcohol use, smoking + s4 spoilers
Word Count: 1755 words
Author’s Note: sksmsksks this is based off a dream i had one night. it isn’t the best piece i’ve written but i love a sassy reader. one shots are not open, this is just a one shot for my 800 follower special - [milestone masterlist]
“GOOD MORNING, Alfie.” Tommy said, walking down the distillery. Well, it wasn’t that much of a good morning for Tommy, really. In fact, even though he’s very productive and professional most times, this time the man wished he was back in bed where he could be exposed in his shirtless self, waking up to see his boy with that bright smile, sharing his eyes.
Normally, he’d be drowning in family meetings back in Small Heath, but the atmosphere in Camden town begged to differ.
“Meh, not really,” Alfie Solomons glances up at the window- the dusty, stained window pane gave in the overcast weather. He turns back to Tommy. “Mate, I’m glad we’re right on schedule. I was starting to think you got shot in your own fucking office chair back home.”
Tommy stared at the Jewish-English man, knowing Alfie was from Camden Town, how outsiders would speak ill of such towns and vice versa.
Alfie shuffles over using his cane as support and hands Tommy the tickets. “Those are the tickets to the boxing match. And in that storage unit behind you is the gateway to the clouds.”
“Kind of you. But you know I have booze at home, stored neatly and safely. I can manage without your rum.” Tommy walked in, anyway.
“I’m not giving you my rum for free, Tommy. I’m not even selling it to you,” Tommy watched as Alfie made his way to the other room of his bakery, ready to check on the AM workers as they got to work right away.
Tommy read the front labels of the bottle he picked up from one of the barrels. This man has gone a long way in his business, he couldn’t deny that. Over a hundred barrels have been shipped to God knows how many speakeasies were in Europe and America, and when Alfie Solomons received his earnings, he holds it tightly and proudly, guarding it as he cherishes his success.
Taking a bottle wouldn’t hurt, it would please him knowing he is interested in buying his product. He could even smell it from the sealed caps. He could smell it from the barrels, residue on the floor, or even from one of the workers’ breaths. He could pop it open and take a quick sniff like playing in snow. Tommy dug in his coat pockets, pulling out a stack.
“Oh, so you are fucking loaded.” Tommy whipped around, his gun already pulled from his holster, gripped and pointed to the voice inches behind him.
The person- the woman, didn’t react, not a small gasp at the sight of the barrel of the gun nearing her face. Boldly enough, she reached over and grabbed the stack of cash from Tommy’s hand and walked away, not even remotely thinking if the man she startled would pull the trigger with her back turned.
“Thanks, Mr. Shelby. And Alfie thanks you!” the female voice calls out.
Con artist? Someone posing as a worker? An enemy? Tommy breathed heavily, swearing left and right in his mind that he could of at least stopped whoever that was from taking his money, or yelled at her the way he usually does to anyone who worked for him because he was the boss. He was loaded, but no one would just allow someone to take a loan like that without anything afterwards, unless they were a clerk in a bank robbery.
After feeling like he was glued to the floor in that tiny space, Tommy rushed out to find Alfie back in his office with his glasses on his face, jotting notes down on a piece of paper, noticing the stack of cash sitting near the cup holder.
“Who the fuck just walked inside that storage unit and grabbed the stash right out my fucking hands?”
Tommy’s outburst of his question didn’t send Alfie into a panic. “You mean my dearest sister y/n?” Alfie got up from his seat. “She gave me the cash so I didn’t have to do it, but she didn’t even bid me a goodbye afterwards. She just plopped it on my desk and went her way. It’s not like I died or anything. I’m not fucking invisible, Tommy. You can see me, right?”
Tommy let out a long sigh, dreading that there’s not one but two migraine-stirring bastards named Solomons, it’s enough for one he already wishes to throw a beer bottle at some times, but now another one probably much worse than if described. “You have a sister, Alfie? You never said anything about having a sister.”
“Yeah. But don’t worry, she’s sweet as cherry pie,” Alfie nods. “I brought her here, but she’s pretty homesick, so I would bid her warm welcomes if I were you.”
“Why should I?” Tommy says, frowning. “She just took my fucking money.”
“Oh, for sure.” Alfie waves the loan in front of Tommy, reminding him that y/n is no thief. “And because she knows about the vendetta between you, the Peakys and the Italians. If they come to her, she’ll roar at them, literally.”
“WHO the fuck is this, now?” Arthur stared at the woman stood next to Tommy at the foot of the small dining room where old memories held of their past meetings and heartbreaks.
“This is Y/n Solomons. She’s our messenger.” Tommy wished he never had to say that. He wished she would stop touching his fucking stuff, too. “Y/n, put down my fucking frame.”
“Oh fuck,” Polly blew out smoke from her cigarette. “There’s two of them?”
“And what is wrong with my brother?” Y/n places the frame back down on the mantel. “He’s a successful businessman. He beat a man three fucking times his size to gravel after he called me fat.”
“Y/n Solomons is our messenger. She’s also helping with updates from Aberama Gold once we get Michael out of Birmingham for now, because Luca Changretta is still out there, and he’s fucking pissed.”
“You can very hot headed sometimes, Mr. Shelby.” Later the brief introduction of their newcomer in their recent meeting was long over, she stayed back even though she was dismissed to do her work. “It’s probably because you smoke so much cigarettes that you’re starting to look like an ashtray, or of that heavy out-dated coat you wear all the time just weighs you down that your back and shoulders must hurt like hell.”
“The fuck does that mean?” Tommy said, irritated by her presence, even her just standing there at the table.
“Nothing.” Y/n sighs and heads out the door. “You know where I’ll be!” she calls.
Sweet as cherry pie, my ass. Tommy grunts and lights a cigarette.
“WHAT’S the matter?” Luca Changretta asks. “I said we had a deal.”
“Ah, you just made a deal without negotiation, now did ya?” Y/n’s brother sat on the chair, staring up at the menacing mobster holding one of the rum bottles given as a gift. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you. You plan to kill us all.” He spoke in Yiddish, and he mocks a tsking sound.
Luca smirks down, even though he didn’t know what he said, at least they both were aware of one thing; Tommy knows what kind of man I am.
“Mr. Changretta, may I speak freely?” y/n chimes in.
The Italian shrugs. “Mr. Solomons, I checked my calendar earlier and I did not read anything about today being Take Your Kid to Work Day,” and he laughs, his cousin as his henchman behind laughing along with him.
“Mate, I’d choose my next words very carefully if I were you,” Alfie says, stifling a smile. “This is my baby sister you’re talking down to, and she won’t tolerate one bit of it.”
“And I should be afraid?”
“Perhaps less afraid, more self-conscious, Mr. Changretta,” y/n replies. “Just a few minutes ago I was sensing the stench of failure, but then I saw you and your men walk in.”
Luca chuckles sarcastically. “Ouch.”
“And it’s not like we’re having a showdown right here, you didn’t need to bring your men with you unless you’re doubling their pay for just standing silently. I mean, they’re as important as Tommy Shelby’s evening sous chef.”
“Who?” Alfie had to ask.
Y/n smirks. “Exactly. Anyways, I just need to tell you that my brother’s business isn’t for sale. Alfie has worked hard and I’m proud to be his sister, supporting him. I’ll drink his rum like it’s mother’s milk if I had to. So, let my brother handle your men at the match, and you’ll take care of the two hundred barrels to be shipped to New York. Simple.”
“What do you know about business, Miss Solomons?”
“What do you know about combat, Luca? If you didn’t lack the experience, Tommy Shelby’s blood would spill fresh on your hands as we speak. How are you a soldier for the mafia if you hadn’t accomplish the vendetta yet?”
“Well-”
“Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll fall asleep.” Y/n took a step forward, lowering her smile up as his height overpowered hers. “My brother isn’t asking for much. He’s a good friend of Tommy Shelby, yet he’s helping you. You should be kissing his feet, Mr. Changretta, not abusing his generosity.”
Luca chewed the matchstick in his mouth. “Is that so?” he looks back at his men. “Porca puttana.”
“Vaffanculo, right back at you, mate. You just earned yourself another tonne to your bill. Bring tissues for both your lawyer and accountant.” Y/n turns around and grins at her older brother, who smiled warmly at her the entire time, feeling as though he was proud. If the Peaky Blinders were here, they’d share the same reaction as Luca.
“So you both know Italian?” Luca asked as he sighs in exhaustion.
Alfie nods at Luca, who was glaring down at him for an answer. You learn from your older sibling, you become as tough as bullets and the big help as the messenger, sending a telephone call or a letter mailed to Small Heath, saying Luca Changretta is six feet tall, but shrunk four feet down when y/n opened her mouth.
“Take it or leave it, Signore.” The Italians didn’t even need to ask where this woman got her attitude from. If you’re a Solomon, there’s perks. Y/n smiles to herself, Tommy is gonna hate and love me.
“I warned you about my baby sister, mate.” Alfie says. “Sweet as cherry pie... but with broken glass once you bite into your first slice.”
—
tag list: @ladyxblake @lotsoffandomimagines @amirahiddleston @thethyri @woahitslucyylu @myriadimagines @fangirlsarah16 @your-pixels-are-showing @lucillethings @sirkekselord @kaetastic
#peaky blinders one shot#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders#alfie solomons x sibling!reader#alfie solomons#fem!reader#reader insert#one shot#imagine
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No end to the silence
Part I (of what I expect to be 2)
Barton fam/ DD’s (@mohini-musing) coming home ‘verse
Warnings more in line with my Nat on Fire works.
WARNINGS for drug use inc. illegal drugs and drug use by minors, sex talk inc. prostitution, violence against minorities (race/gender/gender expression/identity, impoverished, homeless, etc.), canon typical violence (inc. guns), blood, injury, illness inc. emeto, and a little awkward discussion of religion, related festivities, and further relation to Federal holidays.
_________________________
Over the past five years, Nat’s made an appearance at the Avengers’ annual Christmas party only twice. For the rest of the time, she’s been working. Technically she would’ve been working even if she’d been at the event every time, for Fury doesn’t believe in required appearances without proper compensation.
But Nat volunteers for the obscure solo stuff. Evening gowns are workable, of course, but not really her thing. Especially not something she wants to sport in front of her friends. Coworkers. It’s hard to get the look right. Bombshell and fishnets are reserved for missions dependent on the power of pure sexuality. She barely has a personal style. If her threadbare jeans and t-shirts could be translated to formalwear…Classy comfort, a little cleavage maybe? She’d have to go shopping. The thought makes Nat’s lip twist with a laugh, though. The Christmas bonus hasn’t landed in her account yet, and she has her cards extended to the limits.
Today’s mission puts Nat in more of her natural element. Or at least more of what it’s been lately. She doesn’t have a problem choosing a costume from her home wardrobe, nor props. Concealing a weapon on her skinny body without making a conspicuous lump does present a challenge. Nat hates to admit she needs the gun, but her fisticuffs aren’t up to scratch. There’s a slight rattle in her chest that doesn’t fade with the embarrassing pull for a morning cigarette.
Nat tries to smoke her breakfast in the roughly thirty seconds it takes her to get from the apartment’s front porch to her parked car. She grinds off the still half good cigarette on the pavement and tucks it in her pocket, where the end begins to shed ash and loose tobacco. Then, with a foul tasting swig of off-brand energy drink already open in the cup holder, Nat backs out of the lot and drives downtown.
She parks three blocks from the library, at the meter she purposefully disabled last week by overheating its sensor with a laser pointer, then wedging a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar inside the coin slot. It hasn’t been fixed. Nat isn’t surprised. Even though it’s only Christmas Eve, it’s a Federal Holiday, what with the big day falling on a Saturday and all.
And that’s what makes today such a good day for stalking. The city’s in a state of confusion. Tourists are all over the place, running around in mobs instead of standing in lines to get photos of the outdoor monuments. With little to no police force and no museums to pack into when they get cold, Starbucks is doing triple business in its shortened hours, and people are all but arguing in the streets about spots on restaurant reservation lists. And it’s only 10:30 in the morning.
Nat’s not after these maniacs, though. She’s more interested in the homeless coming out of the woodwork, peeking out of alleys and wearily eyeing their usual street corners, wondering if it’s worth the cold and the throngs to try taking back their city. Again with the limited policing, asking for handouts, trading drugs, trading sex… it’ll all be on the up and up, even if the forecast isn’t predicting anything past 40.
Nat has intel on a new HYDRA cell. They’re supposed to be kicking off attacks at the beginning of the new year, because that’s original. Nat literally rolled her eyes as she was reading the report. She resumed her game face, though, when she got to the meat of the document. Test subjects, they were after. Pulled from the easy to lure, supposed dregs of humanity. The homeless. Addicts. Sex workers. Runaways. There was an event scheduled, something charity-affiliated. Probably Jewish, since these HYDRA agents were known to be coming from Eastern Europe and specifically setting up to work the long holiday weekend. Nat’s job is her usual. Pose. Infiltrate. Take intel. Prevent disaster. Don’t get caught.
Getting away from her car as quickly as possible, Nat cuts diagonally across a few streets. She meanders as soon as the vehicle is out of sight, but she heads generally for the poorer side of things. When she hits a convenient metro station, Nat slumps her shoulders and rides the escalator down to the tracks, then loops back up the stairs to street level. She manages to get a short ways by herself, then a rush of people come up the stairs behind her.
Someone bumps Nat’s shoulder. Her intention is to shrink and keep walking, but the person addresses her.
“Hey! Hi!”
Nat lifts her head. A girl of nebulous age clops along beside her, waving with one hand and holding a small cardboard sign with the other.
Need Help. She looks multiracial, and her clothes are generically unclean. Could be anywhere from 16 to 30. Wide eyes betray speed, crack, or serious ADHD.
“Hi?” Nat hazards. There are still people all around. Nat steps toward a double-sided bus shelter perched just off the sidewalk. At least they’ll have half a chance of hearing each other there.
“Yeah. Hey,” The girl continues, following Nat and pausing beside her under the arched plastic roof.
“What’s up?” Nat asks. The girl’s a little taller than she is, but looks on the clumsy side, with big hands and feet. Nat clocks her young, then. Maybe still growing into herself. Probably under 20.
“It’s, like, such a crazy day,” the girl says.
“Yeah.” Nat waits, for more is certainly coming.
“Everybody’s being so nice, but I haven’t got, like, anything man.” The girl shakes her head. “I keep trying different places, but, like…”
Nat immediately sees the problem; the girl can’t seem to sit still long enough to make effort at collecting change. Moving all over the place has given her nothing but an exercise in disappointment. Nat doesn’t know how to point this out politely, though, so she shrugs and offers a sideways smile. “Some days…”
“D’you wanna, like, hang out sometime?” The girl pulls out a scratched flip phone. “Lemme have your number.”
Nat typically has a burner line for situations like this, but she’s scrubbed it recently, and she can’t remember what the new number is. She’s about to dig in her own pocket to get out her mobile device and look it up, but as soon as she moves a tick, the butt of her jeans flexes easily. There’s no phone to be found in there, and she wouldn’t have put it anywhere else. Damn women’s clothes and no functional pockets.
“I, um,” Nat starts. “I don’t have one. I don’t have a phone.”
“Girl, what?”
Nat shrugs again. “I just don’t.”
“I can help you get one,” the girl says.
Nat hesitates. She bites her lip, wavering on her decision. Rapport is good. But time wasting. “How?” Nat finally asks.
“Twenty-four hour Food Mart has ‘em for $100 with 100 minutes preloaded, then you buy the minutes on a card when you need ‘em.” The girl says quickly. “But only the one that has the broken gas pump out front. The air pump works, though, if you got a bicycle.”
“So…”
“I can’t spot you a hundred.” The girl looks desperately disappointed, even though the plan has barely even been proposed.
“That’s— I don’t—“. Nat doesn’t expect generosity from strangers. Besides, hobo Nat doesn’t have that kind of money, for herself or for sharing. Hell, regular Nat doesn’t have that much money.
“I do know a way you can get a buck,” The girl says, tapping her chin with one finger. “You probably gonna have to beg him for a tip to cover the tax, ‘cause the flat fee for the session is usually $100 even—“
“No, that’s ok.” Nat puts up her hand. She tries to let her chest decompress without opening her mouth, but the cough hanging in her throat starts to melt into droplets of thick saliva, and they want desperately to let go into her airway. Nat gets away with one good hack, wiping her nose on her sleeve as well to play up the sick and down the disgusted. She wouldn’t be into it anyway, but she doesn’t have any condoms, nor has she been tested lately.
“Aw.” The girl taps Nat’s shoulder blade, doing next to nothing to help her feel better. The attempt is sweet, though.
“Yeah, I’ve got guk in my throat,” Nat sighs. “Great way to spend Christmas.”
“Where’ve you been staying? Is it one of those places with bunk beds? They’re the worst!”
“I move around.” Nat finds an in and tries not to glow as she continues, “But I’ve heard there’s supposed to be good food today. Like, the Synagogue, or something, is coming out?”
“What’s that?” The girl asks. Nat re-adjusts her age to under 18.
“Um. Jewish people? Volunteers?” She takes a breath. “Like, since they don’t celebrate the Christmas holiday, they chose it as a service day?”
“Oh. What kind of food?”
“I don’t know,” Nat replies. Probably not Christmas ham. “Mac and cheese, maybe? Coffee?”
“D’you just wanna, like, hang out?” The girl asks. “I don’t know if I’m that hungry.”
Of course she’s not. She’s still rolling from whatever she last took. And honestly, Nat’s not so hungry either.
Nat takes a breath. “Ok,” she agrees.
They walk two and a half blocks, then cut through a tiny gap between brick buildings that opens into an alley pleasantly devoid of trash and smelling of wood shavings.
“It’s a furniture store,” The girl explains. “One of the old people kind?”
Nat can clearly read the word Amish printed backward through the window. She nods and smiles.
The girl runs ahead and kicks a roll of what turn out to be moving blankets away from the back wall. She flops down, grins, and pats the spot beside her.
Nat’s happy to lie down. The lunch hour has barely hit, but she’s tired. She’s done some overnights lately, both in the office and in the field. Smoked too much. Worked out too little. The dwindling bottle of Vodka in the fridge has been serving as dinner. The one put away in the cupboard isn’t to be opened until Christmas Day. New Year’s, if she can last that long. Depending on how busy work is and the lengths of the floating sleeps she can eek out of her heroin hits, she might just be able to…
“Want some?”
Nat snaps her eyelids open. She hadn’t realized they’d been drifting shut. She internally pokes herself. Never be weaker than the companion. There are contingencies, of course, and Nat’s probably safer than this girl than she has any right to be, what with her bold and veritable instant BFF routine. But still. Nat’s an agent. The girl’s…
A bottle shakes loudly by Nat’s ear. “Want some?” The girl asks again.
“What is it?” Nat’s clued in this time.
“Lean,” The girl answers. “With, you know. Some stuff.”
Nat lifts herself on one elbow so she can see the bottle. It seems to have once been Fanta Orange, but the liquid inside looks foamy grey.
“Like what?” She’s not altogether taken aback, but she needs the details before she’s partaking.
“You never had sizzurp before?” The girl shakes the bottle again, and Nat wonders if it’s going to explode.
“Well, yeah,” Nat says, “But what’s your recipe?”
“Just regular lean.” The girl shrugs. “But with vodka and a green apple AirHead.”
That explains the color, at least. “Ok.” Nat becomes painfully aware of the stale cigarette taste hanging around her dry mouth, and she holds out her hand.
The girl starts to open the bottle, and surprisingly little fizzles out around the lid. Nat wonders how much of the concoction was soda to begin with. And how long the mix has been hanging around. But she wraps her hand around the plastic label nonetheless and takes a swig.
The taste is horrific, though mostly because it’s an all-out assault on the senses. Nat picks out the bitterness of the vodka and lets that be her focus. The artificial fruity sweetness makes her teeth hurt, and the codeine brings on an immediate misplacement of balance that makes Nat glad she’s mostly horizontal. She swallows and tries not to gag, then takes another pull.
“‘S good, right?” The girl says, taking the bottle back and gulping down her share. Her enormous eyes go sleepy within seconds. Nat’s heart practically breaks as she sees the cycle in real time as the girl fumbles with a magical pocket inside her coat. Instead of going in, the sizzurp bottle has knocked free the handle of a spoon with a plastic baggie rubber banded around it. Nat lifts her chin, and she can see a couple of RX bottles and crumpled dollar bills as well.
“Yeah, it’s good,” Nat replies. It’s only half a lie. The feeling is good. Shadows dance in the corners of her visual field. She squints and ensures the alley is empty of people and vicious dogs and purple trees. Then she blinks. Then… she doesn’t know.
Nat’s on her back. Then she’s on her side, but she didn’t put herself there. The sky is still in front of her eyes, but her ribs and elbow and thigh are on the ground, and something itches beneath her cheek. Nat blinks. The sky goes back where it belongs, and now Nat has an eyeful of blurry variegated terra cotta.
Somebody grabs her wrist and pulls hard. Whoever they are, they manage to get enough leverage to yank Nat clear to her feet, where she stumbles, trying to maintain her balance and keep from vomiting as the world orients itself once again. The sky is above her, and brick is down and around the sides, but everything’s too blurry to pick out details.
There’s a scream close to Nat’s right ear, and she almost falls over as she instinctively squeezes her eyes shut. That makes it easier to find herself in space, though, and her working memory kicks into gear. Drugs. An alley. A girl.
Nat bends her knees slightly and finds purchase on the pavement with her winter boots. The girl and the attacker, a singleton, it appears, are going at it on the moving blanket.
The attacker’s in all black, militaristic looking, but not immediately recognizable. It’s not an area that would have CCTV, and Nat’s not about to take pictures. Not that she could anyway. But generic adversary means generic moves, and hopefully that means Nat can get a step ahead. If she can think through her throbbing head fog.
So. He’s thrown Nat away. As far as he’s concerned, she’s dealt with. She’s up, so if she’s going to run for help, she’ll be too slow, so whatever he’s going to do next is going to be fast, so why the fuck are they all still standing around—
The girl screams. It’s actually the second time she’s screamed. He needs to shut her up. Nat watches his elbow go back, and she launches into it from the side, digging her own elbow between his ribs. As expected, he’s wearing something with a kevlar front and back and Velcro along the sides. Nat’s jab doesn’t do much, but it does momentarily divert his attention.
“Go, sister!” The girl yells, evidentially seeing Nat join the fight. “You gotta run!”
Fuck. Now the attacker’s torn between targets. Nat’s not going to run, but she’ll have to rely on hand-to-hand a while longer before going for her gun. Sticking a trembling hand down into her shoe isn’t something she can do in the blink of an eye this inebriated.
Nat sucks in her breath. She turns her shoulders as if considering going, but leaves her head behind. The attacker gets one running step in before Nat rotates abruptly, catching his hip and sending him stumbling. He doesn’t quite fall, but it’s the moment Nat needs. She bends one knee and dips down, stretching her fingers and wrapping them tightly around the pistol that’s been rubbing a blister into the side of her ankle all day.
Nat straightens up, holding the weapon behind her back. She blinks hard to clear her vision as much as she can. A head shot would be best. Anything disabling would be alright, though. For a first shot.
The attacker starts to stand up and prepare to rush again. He grits his teeth at Nat. He can probably see her tremors.
Nat pulls the gun around her abdomen and grasps it with both hands. She raises it to chin height.
The attacker’s head angles to the side just so, and his teeth offset as well. He sees the gun.
Nat raises an eyebrow. Lifts her trigger finger.
Then, suddenly, “What you still doing? You gotta get out of here!” Whether she can see the weapon or not is anyone’s guess. The girl’s eyes are filled with tears.
Nat looks to the girl’s face. Then she looks back to the attacker. But he’s not where he just was.
The black gloved hand yanks the gun straight out of Nat’s grip. He gives her shoulder a shove and sends her reeling, then three shots pop off, right in a row. The first one cuts a guttural sound, but the second and third ring into silence.
“Oh, fuck you.” Nat holds her temples between her palms. She feels sick.
There’s a heavy thump, and Nat pulls herself together enough to growl as the attacker’s foot retracts and the girl’s body twitches. The attacker makes a mad dash for the slit-like exit back to the street, which Nat still can’t quite see. As soon as he turns, though, Nat makes a wild grab and gets a handful of the back of his shirt. It stretches around the neckline, pseudo-choking him while Nat hangs on. He whips Nat’s gun over his shoulder and fires, the bullet sailing over Nat’s head.
“You’re a pretty great shot,” Nat mocks, though she can barely breathe enough to speak. She fights to get her arm around the attacker’s neck. He keeps trying to buck her off, but Nat’s continued pulling has put pressure on his kevlar garment, loosening the Velcro in his armpits. She seems to notice before he does, so Nat takes the opportunity to plunge her less-sore hand into the gap. She flays her fingers open, poking hard at skin protected by nothing but a base layer. Then she pulls a fist, which makes him stop short and screech, and weaves her hand further down through the Velcro, entangling them to the point where he can’t free himself. Not if he still wants control of the gun.
The attacker laughs, though it’s obviously to cover up the winded bursts of air coming from his throat. Nat twists her grip, and she feels individual body hairs parting company with the man’s skin deep within the knot of clothing under her control. He shoots his opposing arm out to grapple with her. Nat expects it, and she isn’t sure she can hold him off. She’s more interested in the other arm, though, which is pointed upward and still clutching Nat’s gun.
It’s his non-dominant arm, and Nat doesn’t know if he intends to shoot. She doesn’t know if he knows there’s still live ammo inside. Either one round or two, Nat can’t remember. She tries not to look up at the gun; she’ll just make herself sick changing her focus, and she knows as well as anyone that visual cues don’t actually help memory, not when it’s screwed to shit by substances and inconvenient sleeps. Best she can hope to do is continue to grapple and hope he lacks the confidence to try firing again. Not that his track record points to as much, though.
The attacker find Nat’s hand in the wad of straps and cloth under his arm. His gloves prevent him from doing anything but applying pressure; he can’t get enough purchase within the skirmish to twerk her wrist or separate her fingers and send them bending backward.
Nat hasn’t the energy to try to topple him again, at least not from a maneuver to gain the upper hand. She starts to remember what she fondly refers to as the ‘dumbfuck college girl safety guide,’ and gives thanks that, even though she’s drunk and thoroughly shot to shit, guys are dumb.
Nat puts all her weight into the clinging hand, and the rest spills down and out of her body. Her ass bounces off the brickwork as the attacker’s vest splits to the hip. He tumbles forward, throwing his arms out to catch himself. He’s going to fall anyway, but Nat extends one leg, making no effort to bend her foot or ankle, so the steel toe of her boot lands in the crease of his knee.
The attacker groans and curses. He lands on all fours about a foot ahead of Nat, who’s posed in a more delicate half butterfly. The crack of the gun hitting the ground effectively ends the fight, but immediately ignites a second scramble. The attacker’s poised to grab it again, but Nat rolls onto her bent knee and springs. With her entire body blocking the attacker’s extended arm, Nat gets closer. She feels the cold, hard plastic beneath her fingers for a second, but—
A boot sweeps through the space in front of Nat’s hand. In front of her face. The rounded leather toe perfectly catches the edge of the pistol, the extending edge of the rubber sole running smoothly beneath her fingertips.
Nat inhales. Her brows furrow. She wants to lift her head, to jump to her feet. Another attacker? But how can she fight?
The panic rising in Nat’s chest makes her heart beat loudly in her ears. She can barely keep track of her surroundings.
The boot in front of her taps once, then a second one steps up beside it.
Nat expects the downed attacker to get up. Laugh at her. Enjoy hacking her up now that his buddy has arrived.
But the body adjacent to Nat’s shoulder stays still. He might be shivering.
The boots change stance at lightning speed, a twang breaks the silence, and wind rushes past Nat’s face. The sound of a solid strike follows.
Nat fights to lift her chin. If eyes meet eyes, she may be done for. But not moving might be worse. Nat’s so nauseated she decides she doesn’t mind facing death if she can maybe roll onto her side…
The boots have moved again, though. And an arm has Nat around the chest, pulling her onto her knees.
“Nat?” Fingers poke into her neck, looking for a pulse.
“Huh?” Nat blinks in the general direction of where would be the face, but sunglasses and a beanie result only in confusion and glare.
“Yeah, ok, come on.” The boots stand up, supporting a man, who’s supporting a very limp Nat. He’s not very tall. But lean. Strong. He’s dressed in winter combat gear. Dark colors. The whole shebang.
It’s deja vu in the complete; Nat’s fucked from all sides. She’s intoxicated on the clock, she’s seeing things, and it’s biting her in the ass. She’s lost a civvie. Her best friend. Now she’s being kidnapped. Or letting the city get attacked.
A flash of reality hits her, and Nat feels the man’s arms propping her up. She backhands him in the face, which catches him off guard enough for her to jump in front and plant her forehead into the bridge of his nose.
“Fuck, Nat, it’s me,” the man mutters, pinching his nostrils whilst keeping a hand on her so she won’t fall over.
“Oh.” Nat’s positive it’s her bad. Her fault. Tears spring to her eyes, and Nat shakes her head to be rid of them. She doesn’t take DXM anymore. She remembers now. The fallout is… less than ideal. Her legs are going to fall out from under her. She feels an insurmountable urge to burrow. Time and place don’t factor in.
Nat loops her arms over the mans,’ resting her palms on his shoulders from behind. Her forehead drops into his chest and sobs begin to rise, wracking her frame and leaving waves of aching nausea in their wake.
“Hey, Nat.” The man wraps his arm around her back and softly lifts the hair off the nape of her neck. “You’re— it’s— It’s gonna be fine. Alright?”
Nat can’t answer. The soft feeling of the high is back. It’s fleeting, almost gone. She can already feel the burning come-down and hangover. Pain. Shame. Guilt. So much guilt.
“Alright?” He won’t do anything until Nat says something. He’s good about consent and that kind of thing. Stopping on the highway when she needs the bathroom. Not getting angry when she makes mascara stains on his deep purple shirts.
There’s no makeup on Nat’s face to speak of today. The only spots she sees when she pulls away are a few drops of dark blood by the collar. His blood. Her fault. It makes Nat want to cry again, but her mouth is spitty, so she gulps and whispers, “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Clint gives her a wary once-over. “Can you make it five blocks? I can make it three and a cut-through, if you don’t mind going in and out of a building and then jaywalking. With a median.” He shrugs.
Nat leans back into him. “I drove,” she says.
“Where’d’ya park?”
Nat can’t remember. Nor is she sure where her keys are. She shakes her head. Tears spill down her cheeks.
Clint lets Nat deflate. He plays with her hair until she begins to cry properly, chokes herself, and gags. Then he holds her auburn strands in a low bun until she brings up enough liquid to clear the mucous slug gumming up her throat.
“Home now?” Clint asks. He doesn’t pose options now. He knows Nat’s too far gone.
Nat breathes for a moment. Opens her mouth. She swallows without meaning to, and it makes a sick clicking noise.
“Nat?”
“Mm.” She slowly moves her glazed eyes to meet the lenses of Clint’s shades. “Home.”
#fanfic#fanfiction#marvel#mcu#coming home ‘verse#Barton fam#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff#black widow#clint barton#mission fic#illness and injury#I &I#whump#Christmas#holiday season#solo mission#combat#violence#canon typical violence#emeto#emetophilia#illumivomi#hydra#protective Clint Barton#drug use tw#alcohol tw#smoking#sex talk#homelessness
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LFRP ASTRELLE VIANNE DE BAYLE
THE BASICS ––– –
Age: Thirty-and-one Summers.
Nameday: 17th Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon, 1551 S.A.E.
Race: Ishgard Elezen.
Gender: Female.
Sexuality: Bisexual.
Marital Status: Divorced.
Server: Balmung.
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE ––– –
Hair: Deep chestnut brown. Usually cut short and feathered out in the back.
Eyes: Cerulean.
Height: Six fulms, three ilms.
Build: Slender.
Distinguishing Marks: Mole; sigil on forehead; tattoo on her ribs.
Common Accessories: Cigarette holder; pearl earrings.
PERSONAL ––– –
Profession: Skysteel engineer and Ishgardian spy.
Hobbies: Reading, aviation, rock climbing, board and card games.
Languages: Common, ancient Ishgardian, Yanxian (not fluent).
Residence: Currently in Coerthas.
Birthplace: The Holy See of Ishgard.
Religion: Agnostic.
Patron Deity: Byregot.
Fears: Becoming physically handicapped.
RELATIONSHIPS ––– -
Spouse: None.
Children: None.
Parents: Deceased.
Siblings: Armont de Bayle (position in Ishgardian council); Guillemont de Bayle (deceased); Denz de Bayle (location unknown).
Other Relatives: Carina de Bayle (sister-in-law); Hestia de Bayle (niece - deceased); Aegisan de Bayle II (nephew).
Pets: Minho (hedgehog).
TRAITS ––– -
* BOLD - Definitive ; ITALIC - Situational
Extroverted / In Between / Introverted
Disorganized / In Between / Organized
Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded
Calm / In Between / Anxious
Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable
Cautious / In Between / Reckless
Patient / In Between / Impatient
Outspoken / In Between / Reserved
Leader / In Between / Follower
Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic
Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic
Traditional / In Between / Modern
Hard-working / In Between / Lazy
Cultured / In Between / Uncultured
Loyal / In Between / Disloyal
Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION ––– –
Smoking Habit: Socially.
Drugs: Never.
Alcohol: Dependent. .
RP HOOKS ––– –
Ishgard: Though Ishgard is a large city and filled with nuances of class and hierarchy, the familiar name Astrelle carries is not without its own merit. Minor nobility and commoners alike have heard of the Bayle House and know them to have a troubled and dark history that extends to the present, with many left wondering what remains of the once proud name.
Prosthetics: While having set focus on machinery and firearms, through the course of her life, Astrelle has also branched out into the field of prosthetics. War has had an effect on her and, having witnessed the horrors and losses of both the Dragonsong and the liberation of Ala Mhigo, Astrelle has taken time to learn how to fashion prosthetics for the veterans of such conflicts. Though not as high-tech as some might believe, they are durable, reliable, and high-quality.
Far East & Dalmasca: Years of her young adult life were spent in the Far East after she had run away from Ishgard. Nearly a decade was spent in the foreign land and Astrelle was able to carve a small living for herself. She won't speak much of her time there but she has acquired enough familiarity with the tongue of that region to speak the language comfortably and understands the culture. Her recently ended marriage also connected her with the remnants of Dalmasca's children and, through a bit of happenstance, allowed her to begin supplying Lente's Tears with weapons.
Manufactory: Much of Astrelle's wealth stems from her work in firearms and machinery. She helped to provide both the Ala Mhigan Resistance and the Doman Liberation with firearms, steelwork, and information when available. Any who are involved in any of the Grand Companies or the resistance movements from any Garleans will have heard her name.
CONTACT INFORMATION ––– –
In Game: Astrelle Bayle @ Balmung
Discord: Provided when asked for.
Tumblr: I respond as soon as I can!
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hellooo, how are you? with everything going on right now I'm in need for some cute stuff so how would hijikata, takasugi and gintoki be as dads?
Hi, I’m doing well and I hope you are too! I love this ask. I love babies. I love Gintama. Best of both worlds. But LMAO you chose the top three men who want nothing to do with children.
Gintama Fluff Headcanons:
Hijikata Toushirou:
This time, Hijikata stops the half-assed attempts to quit smoking and actually does it. He’s got dozens of nicotine patches lining his arm and nicotine gum that he chews like his life depends on it (and it sort of does). To help things further along, he keeps an image of his child on a cigarette pack, and when the urge to smoke becomes too great, all he has to do is open the box to see that picture, and he’ll be reminded of why he has to stay on track. Still sucks ass though.
He’s got stellar intuition when it comes to trouble (honed by years of working alongside an amorous gorilla and a homicidal maniac) and it’s especially useful for when his kid tries to get into places they shouldn’t be, like the weapon storage room or, god forbid, the refrigerator. Hijikata will come running and shoot that shit down so fast his kid wouldn’t even know what was coming to ‘em.
Just... just don’t let him prepare baby food. But it’s a different story when he feeds them, and they’re being fussy like all babies do-- that’s when Hijikata lets go of his pride and reluctantly does the airplane noises, complete with the “brrrrrrr” and exaggerated eating motions (Hijikata hates, hates that it works like a damn charm every time.) And oh, does Okita get a kick out of it, snickering and recording videos in the corner like the damn sicko he is.
The wails. The wails. Coming from the crib at 2 in the morning. Hijikata’s fucking exhausted and he’s got work in the next three hours, but he gets up anyway, peering over in the crib to look at his baby, who immediately stops crying and smiles at the sight of their father, showing teething gums that must have made them cry out from the pain. “You bastard,” Hijikata whispers, pulling his face into a scowl before it melts into a soft smile. “Come here.” He hoists his kid up, slowly pacing the room with them in his arms until they fall asleep.
And when he leaves the crib, the kid starts crying again, thin and high enough to make his eardrums pop. Goddammit.
Sakata Gintoki:
ah. his wallet.
Budgeting is quite literally hell for Gintoki (He still cannot believe that diapers are more important than parfait!) To save a few bucks, he’s in the kitchen, decked out in an apron and cooking baby food for one fussy child who still hasn’t realized that they’re living rent-free in his home.
The perm gene is s t r o n g. His baby came out of the womb with the same cursed hairstyle as him, and it took Kagura’s monstrous strength to stop him from ending his kid’s miserable future and shaving it all off.
WHY do babies stare so much? Gintoki hates the baby stare. It unnerves him; It’s unnatural to have two little eyes drilling holes into his face, and he can’t exactly beat up his kid for staring too long at him, right? So whenever his kid starts the staring, Gintoki covers their eyes with one, broad hand, turning the daunting situation into a game of reverse peek-a-boo, except where he doesn’t take his hand off for the “peek”.
When he’s out on jobs, he enlists either Shinpachi or Otose to look after the kid. Shinpachi’s a good, responsible glasses-holder and Otose’s got the grandmother/protective chihuahua vibes going on so Gintoki knows his kid will be safe with her. (Perhaps she’ll be charmed by baby cuteness, and let him off from paying the month’s rent-- which is the real, hidden reason here.)
Gintoki often takes his child out to the park and plops the both of them down on the bench to people-watch. Gintoki likes to point out the people as they pass by, a sort of cognitive development training for the baby, if you will. “Look closely. That’s a tax thief,” Gintoki points at the Shinsengumi member practicing badminton. At the reply of infant gurgles, he nods gravely in affirmation. “Crawl away if you ever see the mayo freak tax thief, he’s not worth the trouble-- oh, look right there, beneath the cardboards! It’s a madao!”
Gintoki, what are you teaching your baby!
Takasugi Shinsuke:
Babies and Takasugi. Takasugi and babies. The combination is just so odd, like seeing Santa Clause ride a unicorn to Zambia, and it’s equally as whimsical too.
Fatherhood is a harrowingly slow process for him. He’s not around his child frequently. Partially because of safety precautions, and partially because he has no idea on how to interact with a child properly. Growing up, he hasn’t had the best father figure, so there aren’t a lot of things that he can model his parenting on. Whenever he checks on his kid in the nursery, he keeps an apathetic expression on, analytically looking down at the squirming being in the crib.
It’s a mental checklist for Takasugi. Alive? Check. Uninjured? Check. Adequate. He can leave now--
but children, especially babies, are curious creatures with absolutely no sense of danger. His child knows their father, and even that cold expression on his face can’t keep them from smiling up at the man, holding chubby hands out through the bars of the crib to tug on the sleeves of his kimono. This might be the only time Takasugi hesitates, his fingers involuntarily twitching a moment before he relents and reaches into the crib, gingerly supporting the fragile head and bottom.
it makes him chuckle a little bit. Many people are scared of him, and for good reasons. But this? This harmless, little thing in his arms? It doesn’t even hesitate to shriek in happiness and clumsily grab at his chin.
Even if he’s usually absent, Takasugi is surprisingly there for some of his child’s developmental milestones-- for instance, the crawling stage, where his child is grunting with great effort to turn themselves over on their hands and knees. Takasugi silently sits there, a pipe in his hand (but it isn’t lit), watching with an invested interest.
And when his child eventually succeeds, there is a gleam in his eye, barely perceptible, a small sign of his pride.
AH I like writing soft Takasugi. I like writing soft Hijikata. I like writing bastard Gintoki.
#gintama#gintama headcanons#gintama imagine#hijikata toushirou#sakata gintoki#takasugi shinsuke#fluff#answered ask#asks closed
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Don’t Underestimate Me
REQUEST: Hello love! I love your writings! Would you write something where the reader is Polly's best friend (the family doesn't know her yet)and when Polly wants to involve her in the family business Tommy gets super rude and mistrusts her. But she saves Polly when she's attacked and shows him that he's wrong? Tommy is lowkey intimidated but he falls for her?:)
The only note I have for this is: hngggg
Also, this strayed from the og request a bit
WORD COUNT: 1197
(Y/N) knocked on the front door of her closest friends house, she had received an urgent phone call and ran over as fast as she could and when Polly opened the door looking fine, (Y/N) released a sigh of relief.
“You okay? You sounded worried over the phone.” (Y/N) asked her friend.
“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Polly opened the door wider and walked back into her house
(Y/N) rolled her eyes at Polly’s answer but followed her into the house, annoyed that she ran over for no reason.
“What’s the matter then, why’d you call me?” (Y/N) shrugged off her coat and sat next to Polly on the couch.
“I wish I didn’t have to ask you but you’re the only person who can do it.” Polly sighed
“Do what?”
“The boys and I need your help.”
“‘The boys’? Your nephews?” (Y/N) had never met Polly’s nephews before, the older woman wanted to keep them separate.
“Yeah” Polly looked mildly frustrated, “Don’t think you have to do this, if you’re uncomfortable and don’t want to be involved that’s fine, just tell me.”
“Well you seem desperate and I’ll hate to let you down, so what’s the problem?”
“We need someone to go undercover and get some information from someone. We need someone who hasn’t been seen with us, someone they won’t recognise.”
“Undercover? Where?”
“There’s a club in London but don’t worry you won’t be alone. I’ll be there watching you and there will be some of Tommy’s men there as well.”
(Y/N) bit her lip as she thought it over, it sounded dangerous but Polly had helped her a lot over the years and she wanted to repay her.
“Okay” (Y/N) nodded her head, “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you!” Polly brought her into a tight hug, “C’mon, we have to go meet Tommy.”
(Y/N) felt nervous about meeting Tommy, she heard several stories about him, ranging from good to terrible and she knew he wasn’t to be messed with but it had to be done.
(Y/N) followed as Polly strut into the betting den, she struggled to keep her mouth closed as she looked around the place, never seeing anything like it in her life. Polly walked like she owned the place and judging by the number of people instantly moving out of her way and the nods she was receiving, (Y/N) assumed that she pretty much did. It was a side of Polly that she had never seen before but she liked it.
Polly came to a stop in front of an office and knocked once before she entered, not waiting for an answer. The man behind the desk didn’t seem surprised at her sudden entrance, only letting out ‘Hello, Pol’ while not looking up from the papers on his desk.
“Tommy, this is (Y/N). She going to help us.” Polly motioned towards her.
Tommy looked up at his aunt’s words and then looked at (Y/N), his gaze hard and harsh.
“No.”
Polly scoffed, “What do you mean, ‘no’? You needed someone and I got her. What’s the problem?”
“She won’t be good enough.” Tommy sent (Y/N) a look that bordered on disgust, “Forget about it, Polly.”
“No.” Polly bit back, frustrated at her nephew, “You don’t know her, she’s great for the job, Thomas.”
Tommy opened his mouth to protest but Polly cut him off, “It’s either her or you go with your second plan. Which is it?”
By the annoyed look on Tommy’s face, (Y/N) could tell that Polly had made a point.
“Fine, but you’re the one who’s in charge of her,” Tommy growled as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Polly just rolled her eyes and huffed at her nephew before she turned to (Y/N) and pulled her out of Tommy’s office, making sure to slam the door on the way out.
“Don’t worry about him,” Polly soothed the younger woman, “I’ll guide you and help you.”
(Y/N) simply nodded, unable to find the right words.
Two weeks later and (Y/N) was making her way into the high-class club, looking for her target. The dress that Polly got her made her fit right in so no-one gave her a second glance. Once she spotted the man she was after, she swiftly made her way over to him but glanced over her shoulder to double-check Polly was there just before she approached him.
She worked the plan perfectly and got all the information they needed but as she was finishing up she suddenly got a feeling of dread and a look over her shoulder gave her the answer. Polly was getting roughly pulled out by a man and none of the men that had been stationed around the club had noticed, so it was up to her to try and help Polly.
Quietly slipping away before the man she taking information from noticed, she quickly followed after Polly and the random man, she didn’t exactly know what her plan was but she hoped that someone else had caught on.
(Y/N) paused after she saw them go out of one the back doors, she knew she’ll be complete vulnerable out there with no one around so she looked for a weapon of some kind. Her eyes locked on a candlestick holder, it wasn’t the best weapon but it was the only one available.
Grabbing it, (Y/N) slowly made her way to the door and quietly opened it but she heard shouting and rapid movements, she opened the door fully and when she spotted the man pressing Polly against the wall, she sprung forward with the candlestick holder clasped tightly in her hand.
“Hey!” She yelled at the man.
The man spun around in surprise and that’s when she struck. She whacked him on the head, the man instantly crumbling down to the floor in shock and pain but when he tried to stand up and subdue (Y/N), she hit him again, knocking him out cold.
“Jesus Christ…” Polly muttered in shock.
(Y/N) stared at the body in front of her in shock as well but the sound of multiple people running towards them and shouts of their names brought her out of her stunned state. It was Tommy, John and Arthur, along with some of the members of the Peaky Blinders.
“Polly! (Y/N)!” Tommy came running towards them, gun in hand.
He checked over his aunt, “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Polly nodded, “(Y/N) got here in time.”
Tommy nodded at the woman in thanks, “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
“Arthur, you go deal with me.” Tommy waved his brother over and motioned towards the unconscious body.
He then moved over to (Y/N) and gently pried the candlestick holder she was still gripping on to, out of her hand.
“You okay?” He asked gently, seeing that she was still in shock.
“Yeah...sorry.”
“You’re alright. You did good.” Tommy comforted her.
(Y/N) smiled at him, thankful for his support and Tommy couldn’t help but smile back. Perhaps he was too hasty with his first judgement of her.
#tommy shelby imagines#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#imagines#fanfic
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Livetweeting Hook & Smee in Barrie’s Peter Pan: Part One
Going from the Gutenberg edition for copy and paste ease.
I’m gonna be separating this into parts because I get long-winded when talking about how I love these piratical homos, but I just want to state for the record in case you’ve never read Peter Pan before and think that you might want to based off of these two, like...
Fair warning, Peter Pan was published at the beginning of the 20th century, and it is racist as fuck, particularly with anti-Black sentiment and some nasty stuff about Native Americans. The latter is not as bad as it is in the Disney adaptation, where they actually added in a lot of extra racism, but it’s still present.
With that said, I was raised on Peter Pan, and the queer vibes and gender vibes from the fairies were really positive for me, and I do still love it - what I don’t want is anyone to think “oh, this book Peter Pan looks fun” and then getting a gut punch when it has That Shit. The book is honestly not all that great, and Peter Pan himself is a violent serial killer and abuser disguised as an eight-year-old, so if you want to give Peter Pan a pass, you absolutely should.
So, first, their introductions!
...and the Irish bo'sun Smee, an oddly genial man who stabbed, so to speak, without offence, and was the only Non-conformist in Hook's crew...
I love Smee... so much. I love that he stabs without offence - Hook is very regularly described as evil and intimidating and scary, whereas Smee is constantly established as this kindly-looking uncle figure who is going to disembowel you with charm, and yes, that’s absolutely a contrast I have firmly internalised and that shows up regularly in my own work.
In the midst of them, the blackest and largest in that dark setting, reclined James Hook, or as he wrote himself, Jas. Hook, of whom it is said he was the only man that the Sea-Cook feared. He lay at his ease in a rough chariot drawn and propelled by his men, and instead of a right hand he had the iron hook with which ever and anon he encouraged them to increase their pace. As dogs this terrible man treated and addressed them, and as dogs they obeyed him.
This isn’t actually the initial introduction of Hook in the book - he’s initially talked about in conversation between Peter and the Darlings, where Michael just bursts into tears at the mere mention of the man.
Hook is terrifying, not just to children, but to his crew, who he kills so casually - there’s a lot to be said about why Hook is so frightening, because it isn’t just how easily violent he is, but his comfort in commanding others. Hook is a posh cunt who went to Eton, so he obviously lacks a soul in the way that people like that do, but conducts himself as though he’s the centre of the universe, and uses that to intimidate.
In person he was cadaverous [dead looking] and blackavized [dark faced], and his hair was dressed in long curls, which at a little distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularly threatening expression to his handsome countenance. His eyes were of the blue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when he was plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared in them and lit them up horribly.
Someone get a Ouija board and tell Barrie that there are ways to describe scary people that don’t involve pointing out how “dark” they are, Christ
ANYWAY, I do think it’s interesting that Barrie presents the guy as looking like a corpse, while also being like “he was a bit of a ride though, like, he was handsome”. I’m also just... so obsessed with Hook’s eyes, because Hook is consistently described throughout the book - as well as in the good adaptations, like Hook (1991) - as being a man utterly consumed by depression, anxiety, and doubt. Like, he’s this deeply sad, unhappy man, and I’m obsessed with the idea that you can see that when you look in his eyes - the only time it seems like he feels anything other than crushing emptiness is when he’s killing somebody.
Sexy!
In manner, something of the grand seigneur still clung to him, so that he even ripped you up with an air, and I have been told that he was a RACONTEUR [storyteller] of repute. He was never more sinister than when he was most polite, which is probably the truest test of breeding; and the elegance of his diction, even when he was swearing, no less than the distinction of his demeanour, showed him one of a different cast from his crew.
“He was posh which, as you understand, reader, means that he was a monster and a sadist, and he was at his scariest when he was at his poshest.”
A man of indomitable courage, it was said that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his own blood, which was thick and of an unusual colour. In dress he somewhat aped the attire associated with the name of Charles II, having heard it said in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strange resemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts; and in his mouth he had a holder of his own contrivance which enabled him to smoke two cigars at once. But undoubtedly the grimmest part of him was his iron claw.
I’m obsessed with the double cigar thing. Like, you know how Cruella de Vil’s whole thing is that she has her cigarette on one of those long cigarette holders? I wish that Hook’s insane two-pronged cigar smoker was as iconic a part of his character design as that is of hers, because it’s genuinely so funny and so unnecessary and also just...
Imagine how depressed you must be as a man to need that much fucking nicotine and tar in your lungs on one inhalation.
Hook fainting over his own blood, iconic, love it; Hook dressing himself in his red brocade and his long coats and with his calves on show because some guy one time told him he looked like a Stuart? Incredible. Adore it. Hook is literally a theatre kid with no self esteem to speak of.
Let us now kill a pirate, to show Hook's method. Skylights will do. As they pass, Skylights lurches clumsily against him, ruffling his lace collar; the hook shoots forth, there is a tearing sound and one screech, then the body is kicked aside, and the pirates pass on. He has not even taken the cigars from his mouth.
Such is the terrible man against whom Peter Pan is pitted. Which will win?
So this post is meant to be about Hook and Smee, not about Peter Pan, but I do want it said that while this is obviously a very horrible thing to do, especially because Hook killed Skylights for no reason than he messed his clothes up, Peter Pan traffics small children to Neverland and slaughters them in the woods, offscreen, when they’re too big to fit in his clubhouse anymore.
Tragically, huge spoiler, Peter Pan does win.
Anyway, ensues a description of stuff that doesn’t matter, and then the pirates find the hideout of the Lost Boys (Peter’s club of soon-to-be-lifeless-children), and the Lost Boys scatter, and the pirates want to find them so they can kill them, especially Peter.
“Shall I after him, Captain,” asked pathetic Smee, “and tickle him with Johnny Corkscrew?” Smee had pleasant names for everything, and his cutlass was Johnny Corkscrew, because he wiggled it in the wound. One could mention many lovable traits in Smee. For instance, after killing, it was his spectacles he wiped instead of his weapon.
“Johnny's a silent fellow,” he reminded Hook.
“Not now, Smee,” Hook said darkly. “He is only one, and I want to mischief all the seven. Scatter and look for them.”
Smee is so often described as pathetic, which he absolutely is, but - and Hook does later muse on this - although he is so pathetic and so not intimidating, he is completely content in himself and his life, whereas Hook is terrifying and very impressive, and wants to die all of the time with the depression, so who’s really winning here, James?
AND HE CALLS HIS SWORD JOHNNY CORKSCREW! HE IS SUCH AN ADORABLE UNCLE-ESQUE MURDERER!
“One could mention many lovable traits in Smee,” is so good, it delights me very time, because YES, one COULD, but you really should wipe your weapon, Smee, the blood will make the metal tarnish!
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@citrus-himmel
The silver Mercedes with the heavily tinted windows turned off the highway and cruised into the suburbs, through the dimly-lit tree-lined neighbourhood, passing houses with their lawns and garages, houses in which families and children were winding down for the night. The Mercedes drove to the end of the street, circled back, and jerked to a halt in front of its intended address. Several seconds behind, a nondescript sedan reduced its speed to a crawl, detoured a few blocks, before pulling up on the opposite side of the road, one house down. From his vantage point in the sedan, Law watched as the driver, cigarette pinched between his lips, exited the Mercedes and swaggered up the driveway towards the door. The visitor paused. Rather than ring the doorbell or knock, he fished through his pockets, produced the key, and let himself in.
Take Mizuchi – nicknamed Snake, after the serpent tattooed on his neck, slithering up the side of his face – was one of Arlong’s most trusted men, loyal to a fault in the decades they’d known each other. In certain circles, the sight of him, with his coal black eyes and his slippery, scheming smile that revealed a shiny gold tooth, was said to be an ill omen. Take had recently been released from prison after a ten-year stint, and Law had had the pleasure of tailing him for a whole two days and a half. So far, Take had been on his best behaviour, as though prison had mellowed him out and flushed the bad out of him, though Law doubted it was mere coincidence that two women who’d been in Take’s company had vanished without a trace.
Law noted down the address. He’d hoped Take would lead him to the missing women, and as he waited in the car, observing, for now, it occurred to him that Take could’ve had them confined in the house. A moment passed, as Law sipped his cold coffee, deliberating between risking a blunder by sneaking in blindly, for there were too many unknowns: whose house it was, what or how many occupants to expect. He’d be breaking and entering unnecessarily if there weren’t hostages inside – yet if the women were in there, every minute, every second counted towards finding them alive.
The unexpected arrival of another visitor diverted Law from his thoughts – a woman, he supposed, from her heels that click-clacked over the pavement. He pulled out his phone and zoomed in on her face with the camera, snapping a photo, albeit one grainy and dark. Still, her features aroused no recognition. Had Take a partner? Or was she another of Take’s hookers? Law noticed the new arrival let herself in with a key too, which suggested it was either her house, or Take had given her a key. Something about her demeanour, however, struck him as apprehensive. His brows knitted in thought as he watched her disappear into the house, and then it hit him, and his eyes widened a fraction at the realisation: she could be the third to go missing.
Law set his coffee carefully down into the holder. It wasn’t his business to prevent any harm from getting to this third woman, but things were unravelling in a puzzling manner, and he was tucking his gun into the holster and putting on his coat within a minute. Another minute, and he was striding up the driveway. He edged around the perimeter of the house, pausing beside the windows to peer in, glimpsing the stove and refrigerator through one, though the others were curtained with drapes. He looped back to the front door and stood silently for a beat, listening. The house seemed unnaturally quiet, considering two people had just gone in. Law lingered for a second, his pulse beating steadily in his ears, when he heard a loud thud from inside, the sound of, if the imagination allowed, a body hitting the ground – a solid object, at the very least.
Against his better judgment, having left his gloves in the car, he lifted his coat and used it to cover his fingerprints as he tried the knob – to his surprise, it gave, and the door inched open without a creak. Quietly, he slipped inside and shut the door behind his entry. He stood in the foyer, listening out for other sounds, before, gripping his gun by his side, he stole down the hallway – and stopped in his tracks at the sight of the body lying face-down in the living room. His eyes darted to the pair of heels beside the body, flitting up to the face of the orange-haired lady, flicking to the weapon grasped in her hand. Law’s brows shot up his forehead.
“Well, that’s one way to dispose of a cheating bastard,” Law mused wryly, the corners of his lips twisting into a slight smile. “Oh, do excuse me. I did not mean to interrupt your couply dispute. Though…this is quite the surprise.” With arched brows, he glanced between the woman and the unconscious Take, blood oozing from the back of his head. “I was expecting a reverse outcome, frankly,” Law said, fixing her a cold, level stare. “But, something tells me you’re not his wife, or mistress, or hooker…are you?” He scrutinised her intently with narrowed eyes raking over her person. “Still, I would request that you not kill him, though I wonder if it isn’t too late for that.” There was a note of disgruntlement in his voice. “So, who are you, how are you related to our friend Mister Take, and for what reason did you murder him in cold blood?”
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