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e-nonsense · 2 months

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─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩

pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?

a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more

wc. 1.1k not proofread

Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.

After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.

“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.

“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.

You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”

“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.

“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.

“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.

“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.

It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.

It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.

The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.

He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.

The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.

“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.

Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.

The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.

“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.

“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.

“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”

You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”

“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”

Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.

“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”

You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.

“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd drabble #jason todd oneshot #royal au #witch!reader #jason todd x witch!reader #enzo writes [📝]

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qingxin-dream · 10 months

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“The Afterparty”

summary | lyney is the face of fontaine’s entertainment industry, stealing hearts with every flourish of his magic. however, in the night, lyney tends to entertain a different kind of crowd.

warnings | written pre-4.0, ooc lyney, light yandere themes (stalking/manipulation/obsession), a sprinkle of smut (creampie/implied dubcon) [18+, MDNI], brief mention of drugs/alcohol, reader is neutral but wears a dress, lyney uses a little french

genre | yandere, slight smut

word count | 1.6k

pairing | lyney x reader

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It’s no mystery that the Great Magician of Fontaine is a man of many talents. His shows are famous across Teyvat for their grandeur and flare. Beautiful venues draped in red curtains frame the scene before a sea of velvety theater seats, skilled acrobats maneuver themselves among rings suspended in the air. Blazes of fire erupt from the stage dramatically. A master of misdirection, the audience falls for his tricks every time as he effortlessly makes the impossible possible.

Lyney is incredibly perceptive. He knows how to read people, as a showman can read his audience, a small smug smile crinkling the corner of his eyes if you’re paying attention. It’s an art form—the way he flips through the pages of your soul, licking his fingers to reveal the next juicy detail with ease. Rarely ever does anyone truly surprise someone as cynical as him, who has been personally privy to the vile nature of the Fatui.

A life of fame is never kind to anyone. The planning and training for shows is incredibly rigorous. Executing the stunts in front of a live audience is equally thrilling and terrifying. Without fail, the crowd is mesmerized and the show ends in a shower of roses and marriage proposals. Rinse and repeat. Though, this is only what Lyney allows the public to know of him.

It’s after hours, when the theater is empty and the stage is dim, when the mask begins to slip.

Lyney is the lead, the star, and as such he maintains his appearance by rubbing elbows with the elite of Fontaine. You’d never catch him amid the nightlife of the city, no. You wouldn’t believe the sheer grandeur of the dazzling, flamboyant parties thrown every night at the country’s largest mansions.

It was Arlecchino who insisted that he attends these lavish parties, rampant with the city’s darkest vices between drugs, alcohol, and sex. But Lyney is a cynical man, so this much is to be expected of wealthy aristocrats.

It was all a façade, couldn’t they see? It sickened him, how gullible people were and how obsessed they were with status. Not to mention the inevitable hordes of women who threw themselves at him.

Nevertheless, Lyney played the game well and with a bewitching, handsome smile. Eventually he had learned to take pleasure in this little game.

As fate would have it, you let your friend convince you to crash one of these extravagant parties with them. You had heard whispers of what takes place at night behind the golden gates of Fontaine’s richest residences. Why wouldn’t you want to have a taste of the finest wine, dressed in designer, getting lost in the magnificent corridors of a packed mansion of partygoers?

It’s something straight from the movies.

You emerged from the bushes to sneak inside, which wasn’t that difficult surprisingly. You wore your best dress, not knowing what to expect. It was a floor length, silky black dress with a sexy slit that traveled all the way up to your mid-thigh. You had a lovely string of pearls dangling from your pretty neck. A classic choice.

Unfortunately for you, Lyney is a man who is extremely attentive to his surroundings. After all, an illusionist must be a master of his environment as well. The moment he spots you, a mere reflection of something new and fascinating for him to discover, he gravitates to you smoothly.

“Mm, I don’t believe we’ve met,” his voice is an alluring, a well-practiced approach. Before you could even answer, Lyney had already taken note of your little mannerisms and nuances just in these few passing moments. He had already adjusted the figurative mirrors of misdirection in this little trick, assuring your undivided attention.

You glance to your friend, who isn’t there. Oh. You had been cornered without even the opportunity to explore the party.

More of a wallflower type, you found yourself struggling to conjure up a confident answer. You were acutely aware of who this gentleman is, and his egotistical demeanor was already a huge turn off.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am,” he chuckled lightheartedly, yet there was a peculiar undertone hidden beneath. It was hard to place. He kisses your hand. “Lyney, the Great Magician.”

You withdrew your hand, unable to hide the way your eyebrows crinkled together with disinterest. Perhaps you should’ve been more prepared for these guests to be more brazen and unapologetic when they see something—or someone—they want.

Taking no for an answer is not even in the realm of possibility for these people.

The party continued on, gorgeous partygoers dancing and drinking to their heart’s content. All the while, Lyney kept his eyes trained on you. It wasn’t necessarily out of admiration; rather, it was curiosity. Why didn’t you bat your eyelashes at him like a good girl? Bite your lip when he kissed your hand?

He followed you like a ghost, slinking through the crowd tactfully to observe you. You were a rare creature indeed. None of the other women could hold a candle to you. Archons, he felt this unsettling churning in his stomach everyone your glimmering irises met his. His heart would tense instantaneously, threatening to explode within his chest.

You saw through Lyney from the moment he kissed your hand, and he hated it.

Through the night, you both danced this delicate tango around the massive mansion, a palpable tension tethering him to you. He was equally appalled and fascinated by you, never wasting any opportunity to slip in an innocent question or two to learn about you.

“A beautiful lady like you in a place like this… Do you feel lost in Wonderland yet, Alice?” Lyney had persuaded you to follow him to an unoccupied balcony, closing the French doors behind him.

He stalks toward you, his soft lavender irises cool and calculated. In an ashy flourish of embers, a deck of onyx cards materialized in his gloved hands. It had taken all evening, but just enough wine had passed beyond your lips to give Lyney the opportunity to disarm you.

“Not scared of a little fire, are you, love?” His voice was warm and inviting as a hearth, though it held a hint of mischief like that of a crackling inferno. Each mysterious card in his hand is shuffled with a distinct flick.

You were much more susceptible to his charm now more than ever, allowing him to weave glittering silk strands of harmless sweet nothings to entice you. Had you taken a step back, you would’ve seen the web for what it is. The grand reveal was imminent.

“Now, now, don’t fret. I won’t let anything harm you, chérie,” Lyney chuckles lightheartedly, as if he hadn’t been playing and pawing at you like a cat ready to pounce all night.

Your poor little breath hitched at every whisper and touch he gifted you. It started by fatefully picking the Queen of Hearts from his custom deck of cards. You should’ve known better. Maybe you should’ve picked the one next to it. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

Lyney’s lilac eyes spark with intrigue at your choice. How fitting. Had you paid any attention to the magician’s sneaky maneuvers, you would have seen that every card in the deck was from the suite of Hearts.

The illusion of choice.

He takes this as an opportunity to step closer, his hands reaching forward. Your chest is beating wildly, begging for relief from how he intoxicates you with just a flutter of his long lashes.

Lyney rests his hands on the marble railing on either side of your hips, drinking in your anticipation, your fear, and your desire. A small, smug smirk pulls at the corner of his pretty lips. He takes the liberty of helping you meet his gaze by bringing his wrist to his mouth, white teeth tugging to remove his glove. Your body feels weightless when he lifts your chin with his bare index finger and thumb.

The Great Magician would argue that he took extreme precautions to ensure the success of this escapade. It was all carefully calculated and orchestrated according to his whim. He had you exactly where he wanted you, blissfully unaware of how deep these exhilarating feelings for you had rooted themselves into his guarded heart.

“Do you feel the magic in my fingertips? Hehe, tonight’s show will be a private event for only for you, mon trésor.”

The night was a blur. Fading in and out of consciousness, one moment you were dancing with him in empty halls and the next you were enveloped in his embrace against a wall. Lyney would pin your hands above your head before pushing you onto the bed, catapulting you into his next breathtaking trick like one of the acrobats in his show.

The silhouettes of your frames were shadowed in the moonlight that bathed the sheets in silver. Lyney skillfully unzipped your dress. Clothes fell to the wayside, vanishing in a flourish of passion. There was no denying it. He had to have you, and you were such a willing participant in his performance.

Of course, the wealthy partygoers were none the wiser, the echoes of pleasure the Great Magician was able to rip from your lungs were easily deafened by the music of their own opulent fantasies.

What is a magician if not an artist who must mark what is rightfully his—painting your womb with a decadent display, a growl escaping his throat.

However, Lyney is a perfectionist. When he catches a glimpse of his seed spilling out of you, he is quick to stuff his slender fingers into your overstimulated hole and seal the masterpiece with a final kiss on your bruised lips.

“Magnifique…” ❤️

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin yandere #genshin smut #genshin lyney #lyney x reader #yandere lyney #lyney smut

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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Hello, sorry from before. I am the illusionist person.

I guess Alastor, Velvett, and Emily (but only if you do her).

I apologize about before.

No problem! I just do not like the idea of taking away credit from others’ choices and picking out the characters for others’ subjects. It just doesn’t feel right. I am sorry for being so… well, I guess, annoying and picky! To be honest, not a lot can be done here so sorry, it’s going to be kinda short! Also, this is my first time handling Emily!

Alastor

Alastor almost thought you were an ordinary sinner. A lady not unbelievably special but special in your own ways. But he is mistaken when he begins seeing your illusions and asks you about it. He is so surprised, jaw-dropped, amazed… that’s incredible!

Alastor is actually really supportive towards your illusion power and eggs you on to use it more than you normally do. Use it to get what you want, use it to mislead, use it to defend yourself. He will be right there to cheer you on

Alastor finds it fascinating when you begin to use your illusions on him. Changing his clothing to 1800s, making his ears disappear, all for shits and giggles but it’s just eye tricks. Everything is still there and hasn’t done anything to you, it’s just so realistic, that it’s incredible. He is impressed and has to remind himself that everything you suddenly ‘make’ is not real at all

It can be considered minor but to your boyfriend, your illusionary power. The most powerful, hyper realistic delusions that even shatter like glass when being hit. Enables Alastor’s pride and he is happily brags about how powerful you can be. He mentioned you a ton during his broadcasts and now, he mentions you as a whole even more. He’s just so proud of you

“My dear. Your mind is quite wild and livid. I can’t help but wonder what else you can do. May I ask, how does this power work? It’s so unique and I’d love to get to know it even more, may we speak over a nice date on my room’s balcony over some tea and cookies?”

Velvette

Velvette actually would much more prefer if her harmless little sinner girlfriend was just a normal demon. Didn’t have any powers that made her override the Overlord of the pair… but boy, she is so wrong and she ends up being jumpscared by your illusion-inducing power, directly falling for it and afterwards, she can’t help but directly fall for you even more

Whilst it’s true that Velvette enjoys being the unique one of this couple, she finds herself not at all salty or jealous of your power. In-fact, she wants to see it more in action and she even asks if she can post videos or pictures of your abilities to show you off, as a way to also demonstrate to the web that you belong to her, and this power belongs to her as well

Velvette is uncontrollably disturbed and annoyed by just how hyper realistic and convincing your mind images are. They are fully seeable to everybody, it’s not just you two but she feels like it’s tricking her individually. Whilst she gets irritated with them sometimes, she has grown to support you as a whole. She does like, however, when you use your mind and dress her in 1800s era clothing. Yeah, the dresses are ugly and old but the effort behind them is adorable so she allows it

As stated before, Velvette takes pictures, videos and stills of your illusionary magic and posts them online. She doesn’t just use this as claiming you as hers, she also uses it to brag about you. You went from just beautiful to beautiful and powerful, and that’s all hers. She has your heart and she wants everybody to know you can render them useless with your illusions. She brags to even the Vees

“Yo. Bae, can you please do me a fav with your luse-power? I want to make a really good fashion runway picture for my social media accounts and this one is shit. Could you please make some accessorises for me… pleeeaase~? I promise I’ll buy ya a present~!”

Emily

Emily is a Seraphim. A powerful, higher-up ranked Angel species of the Heaven Hierarchy, so it’s quite surprising when she is as surprised to seeing the precious ordinary Angel lovely woman she calls hers form a illusion creation of her friend, Charlie Morningstar, trying to cheer her up after a bad day. She is so amazed and so proud, eyes sparkling with awe

Emily is the most supportive and encouraging being ever and she wants to rise you up, even more up above Heaven’s majestic cool clouds. She wants you to feel invincible and she wants to you feel proud of yourself so she’ll, much like a child, ask you to use more of your illusions, explore your power and get more confident with it and everytime she watches it, her mind basically explodes

Emily happily and excitedly spins out when you use your illusionary power on her to change her looks; gorgeous hair, gorgeous dress and even her wings. She feels so different yet so blessed at the same time, even if the new look is just a magical sheet covering her body. She also finds it interesting and funny that you dressed her in human 1800s era style, she wants you two to match so she basically begs you to use your magic on you too

Emily legit goes out of her way and with help from Sera, finds and brings back needed magical training items and spell books to try help you hone your already hyper-convincing Mirakinesis and your skills with that power, so you can expand your percentage and even maybe make it even more powerful, with her right besides you as your biggest cheerleader

“Sunflower! Can you make yourself invisible yet? Did the books and items help you at all? I hope they did! I also hope that you know that I am so proud of you and I love you so much! Please never keep something like this from me ever again! You’re incredible, with and without it”

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apomaro-mellow · 2 months

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King and Prince 16

Part 15

El and Max recognized Eddie, even under the hood as he kept his head low. His music was too familiar for him to be anyone else. A few others in the crowd had their suspicions, but knowing their mischievous king could change his form, most didn’t think much of it. Either it wasn’t him and was simply another musician. Or it was and he had come down to grace the people with his presence. Either way, they loved it enough to dance with it.

El clapped her hands and then grabbed one of Steve’s to pull him into the crowd of dancers. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he danced. It had to have been years. As he got older, his parents warned him against making a fool of himself in public and that included dancing. His steps were unpracticed but when he looked at El’s jubilant face, it didn’t really matter. Max was clapping her hands from the side and in Steve’s eyes that just wouldn’t do.

He grabbed her hand too and pulled her in too, twirling them both as they laughed along. It was freeing, just being able to laugh and dance like this. El took both of Max’s hands to lead her in their own dance. Steve was about to fade to the side just to watch when he felt a poke at his shoulder. When he turned, there was a beautiful young lady there, offering her hand. Without a second thought, Steve took it and joined her in another dance.

He missed this, he realized. Having another body so close. Even the kids, he kept at a distance. But this had him remembering what it was like, just being with someone so near and neither meaning to hurt each other.

When the song switched up, Steve found himself with another partner, this one a young man and much more bold with his touches. They lingered as much was decent in public but Steve got the message clear. For the first time in a while, Steve wondered if he could get away for a quick moment.

But then, the song was over and people were clapping. The man was still gazing at Steve as he gave his name.

“What’s yours?”, he asked.

Steve’s voice was caught in his throat, trying to think of what to say. His name wasn’t uncommon but how much should he say? He was saved from having to answer by the girls grabbing his elbows and pulling him away. Still, a part of him wondered if it could’ve gone further. What could have happened? Would he see him later?

When lunch time came, they met back up with the boys to eat. Steve didn’t realize how hungry he was from all the games until the first bite passed his lips. He was so busy making sure the kids didn’t mess up their own clothes, that he ended up getting a couple of stains on him. He led the kids to go and see the illusionist and then left to get himself cleaned up a little.

“Made a bit of a mess, didn’t you little prince?”

Steve stiffened at that voice and turned to see the red hood from before. He didn’t know why he didn’t catch on sooner. “It’s you…”

Eddie lifted the hood just a bit. “That it is.” He looked Steve up and down. “Follow me.”

Steve watched as Eddie walked into a dress shop. He looked around to see if anyone else noticed the presence of royalty, but no one was looking their way. He went inside and saw it was more of a general tailor’s. Eddie went to the counter and leaned forward, putting his hands on it.

“Were you able to finish it in time, dear friend?”, Eddie asked as he lowered his hood.

“A rush job outfit with very little input to the customer’s measurements. You’re lucky I took it on in the first place.” The tailor herself was a middle aged woman and Steve wondered if she knew she was talking to the king.

Eddie beckoned Steve over and they were led into a dressing room. Hanging there was something in a lovely dark green. Unable to help himself, Steve reached out to touch the material. So fine.

“Do you uh, like it?”, Eddie asked.

If Steve didn’t know any better, he might think the man was nervous. A previous version of him would have set that target and drawn to attack but…well he wasn’t that sort of person anymore, was he?

“It’s a very handsome garment. Are you wearing it for later?” Seeing the king in green would be quite the change from the reds and blacks he was known for.

“Actually… it’s for you.”

Steve turned his gaze from the clothing to Eddie and saw him looking…it was odd to say but he looked bashful. Like he was anxious about whether or not Steve would appreciate the gift. And that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A gift.

“You had this made for me?”

“Only if you want it. I mean, I didn’t even ask if you liked green and the madame was right, I wasn’t able to give your measurements, so it might not fit, but I thought you’d want-I don’t know why I was thinking about what you want but-”

“Your Majesty”, Steve cut him off. “I like it.” He did. Very much. “Can I change into it now?”

“Y-yeah, yes, of course. I’ll um, I’ll just give you some privacy”, Eddie said, stepping backwards. “Unless you think you’d need some help”, he chuckled.

“Well, normally…”, Steve said as he started to undress. “I’d have a servant attending to me. But I can’t very well as a king to assist.”

Eddie already eschewed social norms and was already forgetting why Steve would have an issue with him helping out. He just knew, somehow, that doing so would be crossing a line that neither of them were ready for. But looking at Steve’s bare back made it easy to forget.

“I’ll just wait outside then!”, he said quickly, making his escape.

Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself. Today had been a day of rediscovery. He still had the looks and charm to turn heads. It also seemed like the king himself wasn’t immune to those charms but Steve was trying not to think too hard about that. He got dressed, shedding the bland colors with stains for something more vibrant. More him.

“I’ve got to go and get ready for the show”, Eddie said from beyond the door. “I’ll wrangle the little ones. I’ll see you there, okay?”

Steve answered in the affirmative, taking his time to make sure the outfit looked right. There wasn’t a mirror in here, so hopefully the tailor had one so he could look himself over before going out in public.

Meanwhile, Eddie was having not a crisis. It wasn’t that serious, definitely not. But he was definitely thinking a lot of things as he made his way to the grand stage. He nodded to the elderly, those that knew him when they saw him. He had to focus. He’d be playing to a larger crowd soon and he couldn’t think of Steve. At least, not in the way his mind was trying to make him think. Eddie wasn’t blind.

He knew Steve was handsome, objectively. But today was the first time he got to see that charisma in action. He had watched as Steve impressed the crowds at the games. And then later when he enthralled others to dance. His expression had been so…free. Free and happy and with none of the stress or worry or hatred that Eddie had been used to seeing on him.

Eddie found the children and told them that Steve would be along later. At the stage, their instruments had arrived and each of them took some time to prepare. When it was set to begin, Eddie shed his red cloak and stepped onto the stage to applause. These were his people, who he loved and adored. Folks that were either born here and trusted him with their lives or who had had nowhere else to go and came here for refuge.

As their ruler, he would give them anything. Thankfully, all they required right now was some entertainment. So he introduced his wards and they took to the stage to play. Eddie was so proud of the work they put in and how good they sounded together. There were still a couple of slip ups but nothing an audience pouring on their adoration would notice. And Eddie was too euphoric to even dwell on it right now.

As the song finished, Eddie’s eyes went over the crowd and he saw a beacon of green. Steve, looking fetching in his new clothing. The kids took a bow and then exited the stage, leaving Eddie by himself.

“Good evening to you all”, Eddie greeted, letting his voice boom over the crowd. “You’ve worked hard all fall and had to hide away for most of winter. Now is the time for freedom and frolicking!”

“And fucking!”, someone from the audience shouted.

“And a healthy dose of loving on one another, yes”, Eddie humored. “But as we say goodbye to the cold, I want us to remember that winter is not to be hated or abhorred. It is just as necessary for our lives as is the other seasons.”

Winter was when the demobeasts were most active. It was the coldest part of the year and the darkest. It was a time for humans to huddle up for warmth and appreciate each other. The last thing Eddie wanted was for anyone to associate winter with bad things. He smiled at his people as he strummed again, starting a traditional song. One his people knew well.

One that Steve was surprised that he knew.

The melody started off slow and somber, representing winter. And Eddie looked like winter incarnate with his dark colors and the way his hair framed his face. The crowd started to sing and Steve joined along without even thinking. The song was about winter falling asleep and giving way to spring, like two old friends crossing paths, catching up before parting ways again.

It brought back memories of singing the same song back home, with his own subjects. How could two different places share the same song? Well, he could also ask how winter and spring could be friends when they were so different. When the song finished, Steve watched as Eddie looked on the crowd with what could only be called adoration.

Steve was realizing that Eddie was different from his father. He loved his people and the feeling was mutual. Steve’s father only cared about subjugation, from his subjects and his family. Eddie introduced other musical acts, artists who had played on the street earlier now got a chance in the spotlight.

Day officially gave way to night and Eddie joined back up with Steve, hood on and children in tow.

“Time for these puppies to return to the litter. But as an adult, you do not have a curfew, little prince.”

The suggestion was obvious. Eddie was allowing him the freedom to explore on his own. Even though he had enjoyed himself all day, Steve wasn’t sure how he would even go about it. Did he tell people his real name? Anything true about himself? Would they be as welcoming if they knew who he was?

“I think I’m ready for a hot bath and a soft bed”, he said. “Some of us actually worked up a sweat today.”

“Yeah, but you totally dominated the games!”, Dustin exclaimed before letting out a yawn.

Lucas nodded. “It was awesome. You should’ve seen it, Eddie.”

“Oh I’ve got eyes everywhere”, Eddie said. “And I caught a little glimpse of his feats.”

“What do you mean you have eyes everywhere?”, Steve asked with a brow raised.

“He means exactly what he said”, Max said.

A bird landed on Eddie’s shoulder and he scritched its head. “You know I can see through the eyes of different beasties. I can transform into them too. Anytime I need eyes in the sky or on the ground and can’t be there personally.”

Steve thought about all the times he got a visit from one of these birds. He assumed they were all the same bird but were they different? Were some of them Eddie? Steve considered being indignant, or even outraged. But it wasn’t like the ravens ever saw something he didn’t want them to see.

“What’s on your mind?”, Eddie asked as they loaded onto the wagon to be taken back to the castle.

Steve grinned. “Nothing. I just had no idea the king was a peeping Tom.”

Part 17

Tag Team

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie @goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble @jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24 @justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void @nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell @anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug @lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #the party

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letsgetrowdy43 · 10 months

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So It Goes (Rowan's Version)—

Nico Hischier x Reader

Warnings: Allusions/mentions of sex, swearing, a little angsty, lmk if anything else :)

I once saw an edit (this is the edit) of Nico to this song, and I haven't stopped thinking about it since so I just had to write about it

"See you in the dark, all eyes on you, my magician, all eyes on us You make everyone disappear and cut me into pieces, gold cage, hostage to my feelings"

Nico finished zipping up the back of her dress, a deep red fabric draping over her body as he placed kisses on her shoulders, “you look beautiful,” he whispered, his thick accent rolling off his tongue as she stared at him in awe through the bathroom mirror. He spun her around to look her in the eyes, hands travelling down from her shoulders to her hips, hands squeezing at the chub of her figure as she fixed his tie, “you look handsome,” she pecked him on the lips, “dashing even,” she whispered as his head dipped down to place a trail of sloppy kisses from her jaw and down her neck.

“Neeks, we need to leave in like two minutes,” she mumbled as he groaned into her skin, teeth nipping at her soft skin as her hands cupped his face and pulled him a safe distance away from her so she could fix his hair.

A soft knock on the door pulled Nico out of the trance he found himself in, the haze in his eyes disappeared as he heard Lindy’s voice on the other end of the door trying to get them out of their room and down to the bus, “time to go cap,” Jack yelled out as Y/n grabbed her clutch and swung the door open. “You clean up nicely Jack,” she complimented him before saying hello to Lindy who greeted her with a warm smile.

Nico watched as she shook the unfamiliar media girl's hand and found her way back under his arm, a grin on her face as she looked up to see him grinning down at her, “let’s go get you a Selke,” she whispered and moved her head to kiss the knuckles of the hand that was draped over her shoulder, her fingertips running over the cool metal of the ring in his thumb.

The awards were nothing but extravagant, the red carpet rolled out as she walked alongside her boyfriend and the other nominated devils. She watched Nico in his element, the room quieted and the flashing cameras stopped as he turned around to see her ogling him, the smile on his face growing and the rest of the people in the room disappeared as he ushered her to join him.

She halted her conversation with Ellen, profusely apologizing for having to stop their catch-up before she was whisked away to answer some interview questions alongside her boyfriend. “So Y/n as someone who is relatively new to the Hockey scene, tell us about your night, your experience, and about your boyfriend and why he should be a winner tonight,” the woman moved the microphone in front of her mouth but was cut off by Nico who answered for her

“She loves it all—” That was the kicker, Nico was the perfect boyfriend, in every aspect, but it was almost as if he wanted to shelter her from the world of hockey, it actually caught her off guard when he invited her out to this event, but she accepted and hoped for smooth sailing. He lived a public life, both on and off the ice, and she was willing to share that, but he was less adamant about sharing her with the rest of the world.

Y/n’s brows furrowed as Nico ended his speech, “Yeah pretty much what Nico said, everything is great, and he’s been especially great,” she smiled and nodded awkwardly as she looked up at her boyfriend who wore a proud smile.

★

"Met you in a bar, all eyes on me, your illusionist, all eyes on us I make all your gray days clear and wear you like a necklace I'm so chill, but you make me jealous But I got your heart, skippin', skip-skippin' when I'm gone"

Before he was the Nico Hischier, he was just some really attractive guy in a dingy bar. Music blared over the speakers, a dress that was a little too tight in all the right places, and a boy who stood with a beer in his hand as he celebrated the most recent win.

She was in awe, his friend jokingly dragged him out to the dance floor, a wide toothy grin on his friend's face as he pulled on the man’s arm, “Come on Cap you know you wanna dance with me!” “This is really feeding those dating allegations!” “Good!”

The taller man shook his head and laughed, pausing in his spot on the dance floor as he looked up at the girl who stood shell-shocked. Her eyes were full of awe as she turned her attention away from him and back to her friend who were ordering another round of drinks.

The whole night would play out like that, she sat prettily, catching his eyes across the room, and vice versa. “You look a little lost cap,” John said following Nico’s gaze to the pretty girl dancing with her friends, “oh you're a goner” he joked and patted the man on the shoulder followed by a chuckle as he placed a new beer in front of him.

The night came to an end with Nico working up some tipsy courage, the girl who was sitting on the other end of the bar was watching as he approached her, cheeks blazing red as he stood in front of her. Nico word-vomited for nearly two minutes before ending his rant with a smooth “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, I can’t stop myself from staring at you, and I noticed you watching me, can I buy you a drink?” internally cringing at his fuck up as he stared at the wide-eyes girl. “I don’t think either of us needs another drink,” she mused.

A hint of boldness laid on her face as she stood up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t mind you taking me home though.” Nico's mouth dried at that comment, the wind in his lungs deflated as he took a second to respond, “yeah?” he asked slyly, his tongue poking his cheek as he nodded.

He would’ve spent a lifetime of regret if he’d turned the pretty girl down, his hand finding the small of her back as she fiend innocence and nodded her head, doe eyes staring up at him as he bit back a grin.

“My name is Y/n by the way, figured we should get the pleasantries out of the way,” she said as he held her with her coat, his hands running over her torso, lungs on fire as his adrenaline started pumping. “Nico,” they entered the street, the cold November air nipping at the skin of her legs as she flagged down a taxi. “Well it’s nice to meet you,” she said offering him her hand before pulling him into the taxi.

★

"Cause we breakdown a little, but when I get you alone, it's so simple 'Cause baby, I know what you know, we can feel it"

It had been a week since the awards, after seeing the video of herself on the carpet, watching as she opened her mouth to speak but was silenced, the reporter's face looking at the man in confusion as Y/n basically shrunk three sizes. It made her mad, she was used to being this bold outgoing person, but it almost seemed that in front of the cameras he wanted her quiet and complicit.

They had argued about it for two days, the morning after the award show tensions were high, he had lost the Selke, and Twitter was absolutely eating up the interview.

“You made me look stupid!” She said as he watched the video that had upset her. “I was helping you!” He said defensively. Help? When on earth had she asked for his help "You do it all the time Nico, it’s like you’re ashamed, or like you don’t want me to be there!" “You’re not media trained Y/n, I don’t need you to say something stupid and get us both in trouble, I have a whole team to worry about!” her jaw dropped as he rolled her expression off of his back and moved onto what he was doing before the conversation had started as if this chat had never happened.

She laughed dryly and grabbed her purse, “I’m sorry, next time I’ll just sit there and not speak, cause clearly that’s how you’d prefer me,” she smiled and left his apartment in a fit of rage.

But that was two weeks ago, and an apology had been given and accepted. So now that the Devil's playoff run and the awards were over, it meant that it was now the true start of the offseason. Nico would be flying back to Switzerland any day now to see his family, and she would stay in Jersey. Meaning a two-month-long span without seeing one another, a period of time that Nico was sure he would never make it out of.

He’d tried to get her on the flight with him, but her job was too in demand during the summer season and in need of extra workers for her to be able to get the time off. So instead they spent their remaining moments together in his apartment, packing his bags and organizing his house.

“Jonas wants us to go out for dinner,” he said with a lopsided frown, collapsing on the bed beside her, arms wrapping around her waist to pull her on top of him. “I like dinner,” she giggled as his hands trailed up and down her torso. Nico squeezed her tighter, pulling her closer into him, almost as if he was trying to morph into one being, “Dinners fine, but I was yes to stay in, I’ll see him all summer, but I’ve got limited time with you,” he mumbled into the crown of her head, her face heating up at his confession.

“Well then we can order in, Jonas can wait till the new season,” she said flipping herself over so she could be face-to-face with him. Her nose bumped into his as she grinned and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, “and maybe I can give you a proper goodbye,” she grinned as her hands played with the bottom of his shirt, hands running over the waistband of his sweat pants as she kissed his neck.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said flipping her over and kissing her once again.

★

"You did a number on me, but honestly, baby, who's counting? I did a number on you, but honestly, baby, who's counting?"

It had been a little over a month since Nico returned to start his transition back into his hockey schedule, tonight would be the 2023/24 season home opener, with the ending of their playoff run last year fans were anticipating nothing but the greatest for the Devils this year, Y/n included.

“So I'll be there after the game to drive you home, wanna spend the night at my apartment or yours,” she asked over the phone, Nico stopped in his tracks. “You got a ticket?” “I've never been to a game, you've never invited me to one, so when Ryleigh asked me to join her in a box the other girls rented I said sure,” she huffed. “I didn't think it was your thing,” it was almost like he was trying not to start a fight.

She shook her head, “It wasn't my thing, but you are my thing so I want to be there in support of you,” her heart pounded in her chest as her anger levels rose, “if you don't want me there just say it Neeks!”

He didn't say anything, the other end remained silent as she awaited a response, “I mean you invite me to events, present me as your girlfriend, won't let me speak to the media, and now you don't want me involved in your work cause you don't think it's for me?”

“I just thought you'd find it boring, I didn't know it would be an issue!” “That's bullshit, we've been together nearly a year, I watch every single game on tv, and you still think I'm not a hundred percent in it? This is ridiculous, I won't go, but don't call me after the game, don't show up at my house, I need time to think.”

“Fine,” she was tempted to throw her phone out of the window, what the fuck does ‘fine’ mean? “Glad we are on the same page,” and with that, she hung up the phone, annoyance running through her veins as she threw her phone on the bed and collapsed down next to it.

Her hands rubbed her eyes as she felt a headache starting to settle in her temples, “what the fuck!”

★

"And all the pieces fall, right into place, getting caught up in a moment, lipstick on your face, so it goes I'm yours to keep, and I'm yours to lose You know I'm not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you, so it goes" Three weeks of radio silence was the outcome of their argument, and Nico had done a lot of looking back, it wasn't that he wanted her to be distant from his work life, it was that he wanted her all to himself. Hockey already took up a good portion of his life, and he wasn't quite sure that he was willing to share her with that part of his life, it was nice to have something personal, all to himself.

That of course didn't excuse anything he did, he just thinks he wasn't aware he was even hiding her away until it was too late and the damage was done.

Nico had been down, his routine without her consisted of nothing but hockey and moping around his apartment, everything seemed to remind him of her, it was like an ongoing punishment. So Jack being the perfect work husband he is showed up on his door step with a case of beer and a grin.

"It's either we sit here, drink beer, watch hockey, and I annoy you, or you get dressed and we go out with the team," Jack said, knowing that if Jack and him sat on his couch the young centerman was going to make him talk about his feelings and the break with Y/n he was going through and that sounded like hell on earth. "I'll go out," he shrugged making Jack's grin grow even bigger. "Atta boy!"

So that's how he ended up in this situation, the oh-so-familiar feeling stirring in his stomach as she walked into the bar surrounded by her friends. She looked exhausted, but still, so breathtaking, clad in dress pants and a top that perfectly showed off all of her assets, Nico was practically beside himself watching her from afar.

And then it happened, she could feel his gaze on her, her eyes flickering up from her phone screen to see him on the other end of the bar, nursing a beer. She sadly smiled at him before turning away and making a bee-line straight to the entrance.

Nico stood up from his spot at the table and chased after her, "Y/n, please stop walking away," he said catching up to her as they got out onto the streets of downtown New Jersey. "I have nothing to say to you," she said breaking away from the hand that had caught her wrist in the action of making her face him. "Then just listen, I have things to say," she stopped in her tracks, skin on fire from the cool air, his jacket wrapping around her as he spun her around to look at him.

"I need to apologize, I am a dick, and I know," her eyes filled with tears, head turning to look at the people watching them from across the street, "I just- you were all mine! And I didn't want to mix my two lives, cause having you all to myself felt too good to stop. And I was mean, like pure evil to you, and I made you into the person that you aren't, I was the worst. You're way too good for me, and I know that, but I miss you too much to let you walk away." The tears started to come out as choked sobs as she slammed herself into his chest, "I hate that I miss you," she mumbled into his neck, tears soaking his shirt as his arms looped around her. "I know," he soothed as his hands ran up and down her clothed back.

She pulled away, drying the tears on her face, "If we want this to work you gotta be okay with me being involved in every aspect of your life, I let you in mine, it's your turn to let me in," she sniffled as he nodded adamantly. A soft smile worked its way onto her face as she craddled the sides of his face, "I promise you, I wont hurt you," he whispered. "I'll hold you to that promise Neeks," she mumbled as she placed kisses all over his face, ending with one on his lips, she pulled away with a quiet laugh as she examined the red lipstick smudged all over his face.

"Wanna take me home Cap?" she asked as his hands gripped her sides, relishing in the feeling of having her in his hold once again, her eyes filled with that familiar boldness he'd been missing. "I've never wanted anything more in my life."

★

"Come here, dressed in black now, so, so, so it goes Scratches down your back now, so, so, so it goes"

Nico laid her down on the edge of the hotel bed, eyes full of a mixture of love and lust, her fingers running through his gelled hair, a sappy smile on her face as she reminisced over the entirety of their relationship.

The man on top of her left sloppy open-mouthed kisses down her neck and across her collarbones as she began unbuttoning the buttons of his dress shirt, her cold hands finding comfort on his warm chest as her fingers ran over the chain that hung from his neck.

"You okay dove?" he halted his movements to run a thumb over the apple of her cheek, stopping the loving movement to untuck her bottom lip from her teeth. "Just thinking about us, you know in the beginning," she shrugged as she stared up at him, not missing the look of love laced in his expression as he dipped down and kissed her on the lips once again. "I was a mess," he said, hands pulling at the skirt of her dress to pool it around her hips, his big hands finding the soft flesh of her thighs. she hummed in approval, "I wouldn't have had it any other way," she whispered as she he smile into the skin of her neck. "Me neither."

"Now can you stop reminiscing so I can go down on you? Please, Mrs. Hischier?" he laughed as his wife's cheeks that burned a bright red, clearly her boldness had been rubbing off on his. "I like that, Mrs. Hischier, sounds so sexy," she grinned as she pulled him in for another kiss. "It really does," he left a slopy kiss to her chest, "now please shut up," he pushed her back down on the mattress. "I love the sound of desperation" she joked as she intertwined his hand with hers, smiling at the cool feeling of his wedding band on her skin.

AHHHHH I got a little carried away at the end, sorry (I'm not that sorry 🤭)

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fluff #jack hughes #john marino #nj devils #new jersey devils

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ner0w0w0 · 10 months

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A fic idea, or smt like that.

Hibari can see ghosts, Fon probably can see them as well but he refuses to tell anyone, even the Arcobaleno just to mess with them.

The thing is, Hibari can see ghost and sometimes he can't tell the difference between living people and dead people so he'd stay silent most of the time and wait until others start to interact with them to make sure they're alive.

Long story short, when he first meets the first generation, he has no idea that they're spirits. The others are talking with them! G can even pretend to be Gokudera for a whole day and no one can tell! So when they just... fade away, he doesn't give it a second thought. Illusionists exist and they're all dramatic. This trick isn't that new.

Fast forward to 10 years later, Hibari can still see ghosts lingering around the corner of the streets, under the bridge,... He doesn't acknowledge them, and they don't know that he can see them, which suits him just fine. Until one day, when he's due to meet Tsuna in his office to turn in his report of the recent mission.

"Ah Daemon, is this... Elena?" the Sky's voice comes from behind the door.

"Yes, yes she is." Daemon replies as he opens the door and takes in the occupants in the office. There is a beautiful lady sitting next to Daemon on the sofa, gently leaning on the nobleman's shoulder.

"Ah, Kyouya! I assume you're here to turn in the report?" He wordlessly gives the Vongola's boss his file before turns back to greet Daemon and his lady. Tsuna always yaps about politeness and hospitality so much that he'd just do it so the Sky will stop.

"Good morning" he greets monotonously as he shakes Daemon's hand.

"And you as well" as he bows lightly to kiss Elena's hand.

But when he rises back up, everyone seems shaken up at his action.

Hmm? Are you not allowed to kiss a woman's hand in greetings? Reborn has told him it's the way of things.

"Wha- Who are you talking to, Kyouya?" Tsuna seems particularly scared.

"Hmm? To Elena?" He questions back, clearly not seeing the problem.

"The-there is no one there, Kyouya! What are talking about?" The Vongola boss sounds near hysterical now and even Daemon seems clearly dumbfounded, and... hopeful?

Ah. So Elena is a ghost. Interesting.

But troublesome, because both Daemon and Elena look like they're about to use him as their telephone.

What did Fon say about what to do in this situation anyway?

'If you ever get caught seeing ghosts Kyouya' Hibari's inner Fon's voice rings out 'just run'

Excellent advice.

The Vongola can't find their Cloud Guardian for the next 3 months, not until they contacts Fon, only to find that the skylark has been taking 'spiritual enhancing class' (learning how to beat up ghosts, exorcist way) with the martial artist.

When he comes back and learns that Daemon, as well as other Vongola First Generation they have met is trapped inside of the Vongola rings, their plane of existence is different to normal spirits. That's why Daemon can't see Elena and the illusionist is on his knees begging Hibari to help him speak to his past lover.

To which Hibari only says.

"Skill issue"

And disappears for the next 3 months, this time to exercise his skill in exorcism. (He, inevitably, fails, so he goes back to the business of making people becoming spirits, hitman style)

#khr #fic idea #hibari kyoya #I think this works best as a series of snippets?#anyway silly thoughts #I hc that Hibari has Fon's voice as his inner thought telling him what's right and what's wrong #but most of the time its just Hibari thinking in Fon's voice and not him remembering the Storm's words #eventhough Fon would probably says the exact same things anyway

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the-cricket-chirps · 1 month

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Strobridge Litho. Co, Thurston the Great, ca. 1910-1920

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cayenneexe · 11 months

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The Ultimate Team-Up (reverse!AU)

Miguel Davidson, also known as Mirage, tries to steal rare 1994 Dodge Viper for money, unaware that it's a young Autobot in disguise with a protective green Dodge Challenger as a brother.

A Transformers Reverse AU of Noah meeting Mirage and the Autobots in Rise of the Beasts then joining forces to get the Transwarp key

Ao3 Fic Sneak Peek Below

Miguel Davidson remembers what the world looked like before it all went to shit. He remembers living in a beautiful home under blue skies and luscious green grass with smiling parents.

But that was when he was barely out of college.

Smog and grime fill the atmosphere and the smiles on his parents’ face are lifeless and covered in blood. Manipulated and brainwashed civilians walk the streets cheering the names of Megatron and his Decepticon task force with UniCorp’s face and logo painted on every flat surface on Earth.

For a while, Miguel felt alone in this dystopian world, just messing with officials and stealing cars and technology left and right when. He couldn’t leave all the credit to him, much thanks to his charisma and maybe a bit of help from his hologram tech. At least he's putting his optical engineering degree to some use.

They call him the Mirage, the illusionist thief. Kind of flattering.

Mirage.

Kind of dumb but it fits.

Luckily for him, he’s not the only one with a dumb nickname.

Benjamin O’Brien, or Bumblebee the young speed demon insists Mirage to call him, was the first friend he made while wandering the 1984-remake environment. They met during a protest and they found each other as roommates when they were hiding.

Months later, they found each other as teammates when the scout convinced his leader, Orion Cullen or Optimus, to let the thief join their rebellion.

Bee doesn’t talk much, both literally and figuratively. Mirage knows a little bit about him.

He’s a few months younger than him, likes 80’s music, hates the Smiths but listens to them 24/7, dreamed of being a race car driver since he was little, and is a scout for the Freedom Racers, followed by stories of raids he led with the yellow Camaro he built from scratch in the racing pits of Optimus’ speedway.

Bee is also mute.

After a year living and working together, Bee told Mirage the story of losing his voice in a riot a few years back. Decepticon member Blaze Sobolov, nicknamed Blitzwing, shot him in the throat, getting multiple pieces of metal lodged in his vocal cords. From that day on, Bee now speaks through a built-in radio and soundboard in his smartwatch with the occasional sign language.

It didn’t bother him before but as time went by, his throat started to get infected, swollen and red. The team feared the worst if left untreated but they’re not in the position to go to the hospital and get help, afraid of getting caught by the Decepticons.

Mirage isn’t willing to wait for Bee’s throat to fully close up and goes out to do what he does best; Steal.

He got a tip that someone is willing to give loads of cash in exchange for luxury cars, specifically ones hiding in UniCorp parking lots. That money will allow Mirage to buy the materials he needs to build a magnet that could keep the metal pieces away from Bee’s throat and temporarily save him. It's only until the revolution is over and they can go to a real doctor.

Sneaking in was the easiest part. A few holograms here and there and he was within seconds. He wandered the parking lot holding a photo of the targeted car, careful to not make noises in the cramped concrete building. Luckily for him, it didn’t take too long for him to find it.

Two cars lay in front of him in the corner of the first floor.

One is a forest green 1970 Dodge Challenger, looking slightly beat up with scratches near the bottom of the metal and the bumpers.

Parked right next to it is a bright orange 1994 Dodge Viper RT/10. It shined as a distinct opposite of the old Challenger. The paint is shined and polished with a brightness that burns his eyes and the metal looks so smooth as if it was manufactured straight out of the factory.

“Goddamn!” He exclaims almost jumping in excitement. Getting this money will be easier than he thought.

“Do you hear that?”

“Shit.” Mirage quickly covers his mouth, realizing the echo from his excitement. Footsteps and mumbles of soldiers made Mirage flinch, quickly crouching down to hide behind the Viper.

The thief muffles his excitement, giddily shuffling towards the orange Viper, brushing his hands over the clean paint, a smile leaking onto his face. He does smell some rust near the undercarriage as he crouches. Mirage worries for a moment that it might affect the price but waves it off. Some air fresheners and a bit of charm could cover it up.

Ignoring the rust, this car alone would be enough to pay for Bee’s magnet five times over. In addition with the Challenger, which with a bit of paint and buffers, doesn’t look too banged up-

“We’ll check it out later.”

Oh well, one will do.

Mirage quickly got to work. He stands up next to the driver’s seat, pulls out a wire from his bag and snuck it into the lock, pulling it to hear the click of the lock.

“Mirage is in.” The blue-haired rebel whispers, excited to get his ticket to extra cash out of the concrete parking lot. Unfortunately for him, it was quickly short lived when the lock went back down.

CLICK!

For a moment, Mirage was confused but quickly brushed it off to try again.

Then he tries again. And again. And again.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

“You’re a real piece of shit.” Mirage wants to laugh. It’s as if the car is making fun of him, like it’s playing a game that only it knows the rules. Or maybe it just doesn't want Mirage to get inside.

“That’s how you want to play then.” Mirage grumbles, trying to ignore the fact that he’s scolding a car like a naughty child, before pulling on the wire again to get the lock loose. Before the car could lock it back in, Mirage pulls on the door handle to open.

“Ah ha! Gotcha!”

The thief immediately hops into the navy blue and black leather interior, bouncing on the seat and drumming his palms on the steering wheel. He sits back and lets himself breathe, taking in the mix of bitter iron and new car smell and feeling the plastic of the dashboard and radio.

“Now this is what we call a car.” He mumbles before bending down to hotwire the car, pulling out a piece of the dashboard under the steering wheel to reveal multiple wires hanging out but burnt red and black dust fall from the compartment making Mirage cough. There’s even rust inside? Jeez, who owned this thing? Some car care.

Small sparks light up the dark car as he tries to start up the car with routine ease. The car starts to rumble a bit, waking from the sparks. For a moment though, he sits back up with a smirk to look back at the black and green Challenger, “Don’t get jealous, baby. I’m coming back for you later.”

“NYPD! Come out of the vehicle with your hands up!”

Shit.

Mirage turns towards the window and outside a couple feet away from the car are two police officers, aiming their guns at him with stoic expressions. The thief doesn’t even flinch, rolling his eyes and his cocky smirk returning his face. He rolls down the window and leans his head out the door.

“Hello officers. How may I help you?” Mirage asks with a natural suave, hoping the two will be distracted enough for his two hands to finish hotwiring the car.

The police don’t waiver from his charisma but are confused at his unshaken confidence. “The hell? We said to come out of the car! Or we will engage!”

Mirage laughs but he fumbles the wires a bit faster, “Sounds like the night shift is getting to you. How about we relax, go out for donuts or somethin’?”

One of the officers leaned over to the other, guns still pointing at the thief, “Sir, that’s Mirage. He’s one of the rebel racers. The one with the holograms.”

Mirage’s smirk grows into a big grin, “I see my reputation precedes me. Want an autograph or-”

The car’s radio buzzes to life, interrupting Mirage’s retort. His smile shrinks into a worried stare. The dials spin frantically between different stations before buzzing in white noise. If Mirage listens close enough, he can hear a voice.

“Kris! Bzzt! Kris! Bzzt! Can you hear me?” An urgent voice filters through the static, almost too buzzed for Mirage to translate but enough for him to slightly recognize a few words.

“The hell?”

“Are you listening to me?!” Mirage’s head shot up from the radio to the officers, looking more annoyed than before and slowly creeping up towards the car. “Get out of that car or we will shoot!”

“Screw this. I’ll get you pretty boys later.” The white noise continues to buzz in the back and Mirage, not willing to push any more buttons, rushes to open the door. He grabs the door handle and pushes to open but the sudden noise of the lock startles the thief, even more when the door refuses to open. “What the hell?”

“Kris. Bzzt! Please calm down. Bzzt! Just unlock the doors.”

“Who’s Kris?” Mirage yells amidst his confusion.

“Get out of the car!” The officers are barely five feet away from the car door and his grip on the handgun grows tighter on the trigger.

“I can’t!” Mirage yells through the glass, banging on the window and kicking the frame, "It won't open!"

“You have three seconds to get out of the car!” One of the officer’s threatened as the safety of the gun clicking.

His original confidence has all but faded away, staring at the two uniformed men with panicked eyes. He’s not going to get caught now. He punches the doors and digs his heels into the plastic interior hoping to loosen the door but the car refuses to budge. It even seemed to flinch at every hit.

“Stop kicking me!” A child’s voice drips out from the car but oddly enough, not from the radio. “Noah! I can’t… I can't breathe!”

Was that a kid?

“Three!”

The green Challenger comes to life as well. The angry-sounding roars of a waking engine thundering so loudly that it made the concrete of the parking lot shake. Mirage and the police officers jump at the mere sound of it. The headlights flash on and the car inches towards the orange Viper ever so slightly.

“Kris, stay with me.” The voice returned, with an accent Mirage recognizes to be Puerto Rican, muffled by distance and no longer coming from the radio but from the other car. The urgency didn’t leave but it sounds gentle, comforting to the ear as the child’s voice starts to hyperventilate. “Please calm down. Cadimus Prime said to stay hidden.” Cadimus Prime?

“They have guns!” The child’s voice cries with a desperate voice that makes Mirage’s heart crack, his kicks faltering at his begs.

“Two!”

“Kritical, listen to me.” The hispanic voice, edging from urgent gentleness to growing fear, and softly grumbling to reassure the other car.

The orange Viper doesn't respond. The wheels begin to squeal and spin so fast that black rubber stained the stone floor like the car was having some kind of panic attack.

“Three!”

Mirage stops kicking the car, his head spins towards the police and hands pressed against the window in surrender. “Don’t shoot!”

BANG! BANG!

#transformers rise of the beasts #transformers rotb #transformers #rotb mirage #mirage rotb #noah diaz #kris diaz #reverse au #reverse roles au #freedom racers au #fanfic #fanfiction #read on ao3 #cross posted on ao3

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a-den-of-demons · 2 months

Text

Redeeming the Villainess (Closed RP w/ @dreamsjpeg)

Setsuna stood over Isla Woods, the Illusionist villain. She had almost gotten him, but the redeemed demon glared at her as he couldn't help but appreciate her beautiful body, "Anything you want to say to me? Before I take you back to jail?"

#dreamsjpeg

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fuckyeah-jessicabiel · 1 year

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GQ Magazine - July 2007

The Summer of Jessica Biel

To celebrate Biel’s being in a movie actually worth seeing, we sent Adam Stein to play carnival games with her.

When I told various friends I’d be interviewing Jessica Biel, I got the responses you’d expect—jealousy, mild rage, a plea to give her a phone number because she’s the one person that a friend’s wife would give him a free pass to sleep with. The uncanny thing is, when I asked these guys what they thought of her as an actress, most of them drew a blank. They hadn’t seen a single motion picture of hers. Okay, one or two had girlfriends who’d brought them to see The Illusionist, but otherwise, nada. As my friend Taj put it: “I’m obsessed with a girl I’ve never seen move.“

Well, that’s about to change. Later this month, men across America will see Jessica being very good in a very funny movie, and the nature of their love for her will…deepen. She’ll still be inhumanly beautiful, sure, but now they’ll have to contend with genuine talent, too, and that one-two punch can be disorienting. You know what else can? The fact that despite her recent tabloid exposure, she’s actually sweet, funny, earnest, occasionally a little crude, and—if my time playing carnival games with her can be used as evidence—uniquely driven to conquer whatever stands between Jessica Biel and what she wants.

I am waiting for her at the Santa Monica Pier, sitting on a stool next to one of those games where you shoot water from a gun into a clown’s mouth. I haven’t shaved for a week, because I read somewhere that Jessica Biel likes guys with beards. I’m inspecting mine in the reflective back of my iPod when a nice-looking young woman materializes in my view. “Excuse me,“ she says. “Are you Adam?“ “Jessica?“ I ask, ridiculously. Of course it’s her, in wraparound sunglasses, an open gray sweater over a white blouse, and faded jeans. She wears checkered Vans, like Jeff Spicoli. On the pier, no one recognizes her, which I suppose makes sense: There’s little resemblance between the pinup girl and the sneaker-wearing civilian out on a Monday afternoon. She doesn’t stick out as we walk the wooden planks of the amusement park; she blends in. She is, you might say, a very chill girl.

“Can we get a photo next to a star?“ she asks, stopping in front of a booth hawking photographs with huge cardboard cutouts of celebrities. It’s an impressive, eclectic array: Bill Clinton, Mini Me, Michael Jordan, Hilary Duff, Enrique Iglesias(!), Jean-Claude Van Damme, DiCaprio in Titanic. “They’re all kind of old,“ she says. I don’t know if she means the cutouts or the celebrities themselves (because to me, Mini Me will never age). She’s only 25 years old, so it could go either way. I ask her who she’d most want to pose with. She scrutinizes the assembly and makes her call: “I’d probably pick Van Damme, cause he looks the coolest.“ She takes the Muscles from Brussels over Leo—a victory of might over sensitivity. Nice.

Then she decides it’s time for the games to begin. She passes up the Riptide Ring Toss (“That one is impossible,“ she says) and focuses her attention on the Pier Plank Plunge. The PPP is basically a rope ladder suspended horizontally over an inflatable mattress. The trick is to climb, perfectly balanced, to a taunting red button placed approximately ten feet away. Press the button, win the prize—an enormous Sonic the Hedgehog. I ask her if she’s ever Pier Plank Plunged before. “Yes,“ she says, assessing the structure, looking for its weaknesses. “But I’ve never been able to achieve it.“ She begins barraging the bored-looking carny with questions. “Do you have any tips?“ (It’s all about balance.) “Have you done it before?“ (Nope.) “Has anyone ever won?“ (Yeah.) “Has anyone won today?“ (Not yet.) She turns to me, and I have to say she seems genuinely excited. “This is our chance,“ she says. “It’s our chance to win.“ I’m beginning to get the distinct impression that winning is important to Jessica Biel. “Ladies first“ being the imperative, I take the initial go-round. It’s harder than it looks. My arms shake. Everything shakes. I can feel her hopefulness—Do it, get there—but I fall off within seconds. The shame is truly surprising. I wanted to do it for Jessica and failed. She throws me a “good try“ before stepping up herself.

Jessica was a gymnast when she was younger, and the training appears to be paying off as she mounts the unstable rope ladder. (It also occurs to me that the view I currently have is one the paparazzi would kill for.) She deploys a disciplined crawl, gets tantalizingly close to the red button, reaches for it—and loses her balance, flips over, and lands flat on the cushion, laughing. “Holy shit,“ she yells. “It’s so hard. That’s so frustrating.“ The carny asks if we’d like to try again. She pauses for a moment, looking at the button, and then, with obvious reservations, demurs. “You were really, really close,“ I tell her. “I know,“ she says, still staring at it, reluctant to move, apparently, without conquering the damn thing. “That’s how it gets you.“

Next up is something called the Hi-Striker, a game in which you swing a mallet to test your strength. I take three feeble swings, each one less successful than the last. A huge Hispanic man laughs every time I bring the mallet down on the metal block, and when I exit the cage and hand it off to the female attendant, she takes one exhibition swing and makes my emasculation complete. Up goes the projectile. Ping goes the bell.

J.B. watches, rapt. “Look at her awesome stance,“ she whispers, absorbing the details, memorizing the motion. Some actors “find“ their characters via a process of internalization—investigating emotions, plumbing psychology, creating an “inner life.“ This is known as the inside-out approach. Other actors work outside-in—developing a walk, a gesture, a physicality. Look at, say, Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby. Look at Jessica Biel in the Hi-Striker cage.

Mimicking the attendant’s, her first swing easily skunks my best effort. And she improves with each attempt. She’s getting into character. As she exits the cage, there’s a look of satisfaction on her face. She returns the mallet to the attendant, who looks at me and says: “She did better than you.“ As we leave, I ask her: “Is it more technique than strength?“ She shakes her head. “Brute strength,“ she says. “You just throw it up and slam it as hard as you can.“ On our way off the pier, we pass Zoltar, the animatronic fortune-teller who turned that kid into Tom Hanks in Big. Zoltar senses us and speaks: “Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice. It is not a thing to be waited for; it is a thing to be achieved.“ Zoltar makes Jessica smile. She digs his philosophy.

Jessica Biel’s destiny, at least of late, has led her to a prominent place in the trashy supermarket gossip rags. First it was snapshots of social excursions with second-banana studs (Chris Evans, Ryan Reynolds). Then, upping the ante, there was a beach fling with a sports icon (Derek Jeter). And then, in February, she grabbed the tabloid brass ring for reportedly nabbing the world’s most eligible bachelor, Justin Timberlake. Unsurprisingly, it’s not something she’ll discuss.

One thing she is happy talking about, though, is the unladylike girth of her knuckles. We’re getting dinner at an unassuming Italian trattoria across the street from the pier when she flashes those meaty joints and describes her nascent production company. “It was almost called Fat Knuckle Films. Because I have fat knuckles. See?“ she asks. “They don’t really look that way until you start putting rings on them, and then it stops right there.“

I have to say, Jessica Biel’s chunky midfingers are endearing, human, attainable—a word she uses a number of times in our conversation, as if to remind the world that she’s just a regular girl from Boulder, Colorado, who happens to have been called, by Esquire magazine in 2005, the Sexiest Woman Alive.

“At first I felt really embarrassed about it,“ she says. “You know, it’s a weird thing to talk about. Like, Hey, guys. Guess what?’ You don’t just go telling everybody that.“ She shifts her weight forward and goes on: “But after I got over that, I just started to embrace it. I started thinking, If I ever do have kids, and if they have kids, I can tell them: You know what? Your grandma in 2000-and-whatever was the Sexiest Woman Alive. How about that, kids?’ That’s what I started to think about. I’ll always have that picture to say, That’s what Granny used to look like.’ “

Before coming out here to get my ass handed to me at the Hi-Striker, I immersed myself in Jessica Biel’s Collected Works. She got her start in the mid-’90s on 7th Heaven, the WB dramedy that made a splash with the moral-values set, before leaving around 2002 for bigger (and badder) things. It’s been a grim scene ever since: Summer Catch (2001), which starred Freddie Prinze Jr. and stands at number forty-nine on Rotten Tomatoes’ 100 Worst- Reviewed Films of All Time. The Rules of Attraction (2002), notable only for Fred Savage shooting heroin between his toes and saying things like “I can feel my dick.“ (Remarkably, Biel comes across as fresh and charming, despite the astonishing pointlessness and nihilism of the flick.) The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003), which was Biel’s first top billing and is her biggest box-office performer to date, with a take of about $80 million. J.B. screams her head off throughout the movie and is entirely believable in distress, but you can’t help thinking as you watch her, There’s got to be better material than this. Sadly, no. There was an atrocity called Cellular, in 2004, and Blade: Trinity that same year (in which Biel kicks much undead ass as a midriff-baring vampire hunter). But the nadir has to be London, in ’06, a delusional piece of trash that starts off with a sex scene, Biel on top, saying, “Are you coming? Are you coming?“ before she proceeds to another not-quite-dignified act and then dips out of the frame to, presumably, swallow. Like I said, a grim scene.

And then, just in the nick of time, salvation arrived. A script called The Illusionist, to star Edward Norton and Paul Giamatti. There was a problem, though. The filmmakers didn’t want to give Biel an audition. They weren’t convinced the vampire-hunting Hollywood creation could rearrange herself into the role of a refined fin de siècle Hungarian duchess.

But Jessica Biel has a hard time taking no for an answer. And when another actress “dropped out“ of the film, her tenacity paid off. They finally brought her in. She arrived wearing a full period costume. She made them take her seriously, she says, and three days later, an offer arrived.

The Illusionist wasn’t what you’d call a “hit,“ but it got good reviews, made decent money, and changed the industry’s perception of her. Doors that were closed began to open. They just weren’t opening fast enough for her taste.

She sets down her after-dinner tea and says, “I want choices. I want options. I want to lay out all the directions I could go and have the ability to choose. I’m slowly starting to have that now.“ It’s the “slowly“ that kills her.

One film that will almost surely expedite the process is I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, which will be released this month. It stars Adam Sandler and Kevin James as two Brooklyn firefighters who pretend to be a gay couple in order to receive domestic-partner benefits. J.B. plays the female lead, their hoodwinked attorney who falls for Sandler by the end of the picture.

Chuck and Larry is Jessica’s first real shot at popular, mainstream film success. Unlike her previous big-budget endeavors, it doesn’t rely on CGI or fetishistic weaponry to make its points. It is also—apologies to Freddie Prinze Jr. —her first comedy.

“It was a little bit intimidating,“ she says. “I really admire Adam and Kevin, but then, I didn’t try to equal them or one-up them, and the character I created didn’t have to be that. She’s the straight woman, but very fun and very cool and just—attainable. That’s the kind of part that I’d like to play more. I mean, a vampire hunter? Is that really attainable? I’d just like to play something a little more quirky, interesting, outrageous. And uninhibited.“

“You’re not worried that she can do comedy,“ the movie’s director, Dennis Dugan, tells me. “You can tell she can do comedy. So we just met her and cast her. I really think she can have one of those diverse, Oscar-winning careers. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no horizon to her talent.“

The sun has gone down, and we’re standing on the sidewalk in front of the Italian joint, across from the pier. I’m holding a small stuffed Spider-Man doll that Jessica won as a prize back at the amusement park and which she’s given to me to give to my son. I ask what she’s doing tonight, and she says she’s playing chaperone to a girlfriend on a first date. “Basically, I’m her wingman tonight,“ she says. “I’ll probably slip away if it’s rolling along well.“

She graciously agrees to a photograph with me, which I would include except for two reasons: (1) I don’t want to make Justin Timberlake jealous, and (2) you never quite understand how unattractive you are until you see yourself in a picture with Jessica Biel.

I watch her as she walks toward the pier. I know it’s where her car is parked, but I have this image of her heading straight back to the Pier Plank Plunge. The carny won’t know who she is, nobody on the pier will recognize her, and she’ll just hand over her fiver and go at it. That red button, almost within her reach. Attainable.

#jessica biel #gq #gq 2007 #articles #magazines #cover #interviews

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