strange allure

Hunk looks at Allura and sees starlight.

She’s laughing, spinning around in Lance’s arms as they hop along the brick-laden plaza. Each click of her heels, his oxfords, clack against the ground, matching the beat the two-man band offers from their place near the fountain. With every squeeze of his hands along her waist, her arms at his shoulders and in the air, Hunk feels lighter, tasting the feeling on his tongue as the food on the table before him begins to grow cold. The guitarist strums a match to his heartbeat, fondness an upbeat tune. Lance is laughing, orbiting around her, and Coran, a watchful moon standing aside the band with hands behind his back, smiles a fraction wider. Hunk is worried he’ll crack his face.

Allura is a solar system, Lance a planet that inhabits within, both tapping along to the pull of gravity. The violinist picks up her bow. Hunk dips his head and takes a bite of his sandwich. Out of the corner of his eye, the shimmer in Allura’s dress, black satin with a star’s identity, catches the evening’s sunlight. The rush of the fountain and laughter from the crowd around them settles into his ears.

“This should be good.”

Above it all, Pidge’s voice carries softly from beside him, her presence a satellite. Hunk hears affection in her tone as strongly as he’s experiencing it, aimed towards Keith’s direction. It’s hard to look away from the others, from Lance laughing and Allura’s dress fanning out to surround her in her own galaxy. But he can hear Keith beginning to laugh, an embarrassed key drifting high with the violinist’s notes, and a whistle times out to match a stomp echoing through the ground. 

Hunk looks at Keith and sees him surrounded by stardust.

Dressed down in black, Keith stands up straight as he stares at Shiro and his red button-down, both alight from the sun. Shiro stomps again, almost sheepish, a smile at Keith tossed without care. The guitarist raps his fingers against the body of his instrument, Hunk’s heartbeats once again, curiosity painting his posture as he leans forward in his chair. A jeer is thrown across the plaza, painted in Lance’s voice, respectful of the music’s beat, and Keith sneers and dips to his left. Shiro laughs, bends to the right, and the jeer shifts into a hoot. Hunk smiles when he hears Pidge’s hands tap against the table, smiles when Keith weaves his own hand into Shiro’s. 

They breathe in sync, footsteps a sure match, spinning around against the brick. Keith weaves in and Shiro out, trading smiles as if they were the very secrets of space. Shiro is the sun and Keith a comet whose tail burns into life, curling red as they revolve, tapping out patterns of constellations.

Hunk continues with his food and watches, a vibrant star in the center of the universe.

Astral Wish

Word Count: ~800

Pairing: Chanyeol/Reader

Notes: demon/royalty! au or something like that

“the world has changed, the night sky is filled with silver stars.”

“Are you serious? You too?” A booming voice echoes through the great hall, making everyone cower.

“I-I’m sorry my Lord,” a small figure kneels below the steps that lead up to the magnificent throne. Chanyeol looks down from the seat, his ruby orbs grows even more intense.

“This is the fifth time it’s failed. Are you all just here for decoration?” He directs these words even at his highest commanding officers, who all have their heads down in embarrassment.

Chanyeol lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his hands through his jet-black hair a few times. “Get out. All of you.”

“My Lord, I-I can expla-” the man chokes mid sentence, the air around him thins, and his whole body paralyzes.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Chanyeol’s eyes are glowing, and a dark aura surrounds him. Immediately, the hall clears out, and the small man scuttles away, drenched with sweat.

Keep reading

Galway Girl - Cheryl Blossom

Anonymous said:

Hi can I request a romantic fic with the song Galway Girl for Cheryl x reader please? Thanks so much :)

Originally posted by knightlley

I tried my best with this one! I hope you like it! (Galway Girl is my fave btw, song credit to Ed Sheeran)

WARNING : Underage drinking


You stared blankly at the word document you had pulled up on your computer. Images of the night before flashed before your eyes like how her red hair whipped as she had danced. You closed your eyes, hoping that falling back into the memory would aid in your writing.


There was a party being held at an older, abandoned, bar at the outskirts of Riverdale. Somehow, through a friend of a friend of Cheryl’s an invitation had been extended to you. Normally you would’ve declined the offer, but the idea of being invited to one of Cheryl’s parties excited you. You had been crushing on Cheryl for a while now, which confused your friends. They’d call you out for liking a “Mean girl” and you’d try your best to ignore the things they said about her. There was just something strangely alluring about her; almost like the beautiful but deadly black panther.

When you had arrived at the bar, loud folk music played through the speakers. You picked up a fiddle in the music’s sound and smiled. You walked over to a pool table and saw a game commencing. You saw Cheryl holding a stick and your heart sped up.

“Can I join?” You asked, looking hopefully at Cheryl. Her brown eyes looked up and met your gaze. Her full lips met up in a smile.

“Of course you can sweetie.” You felt a blush bloom on your cheeks at the pet name. You grabbed a free stick and got ready. The game was filled with laughter and some harmless flirting. You weren’t great at pool, not by a long shot; but Cheryl beat you to a pulp.

“You wanna try darts?” You asked and she laughed. She stepped close to you and you could her breath on your face. She smelled sweet and of her fancy perfume, but hints of alcohol lingered.

“If you plan darts like how you play pool, you don’t stand a chance.” You let out a giggle and a blush.  She gave you a smile and grabbed your hand, pulling you to the bar. Another person from school had set up a makeshift place to buy beer there.

“Drinks for the loser, please!” She shouted and the guy nodded, bringing up two beers. You looked hesitantly at the bottle as Cheryl opened hers. “You not going to drink?” Her voice was lower than it was before, but not in a threatening manner.

“I just want to remember this night,” you murmured back and Cheryl smiled. She set her drink down and her hands fell to your cheeks. She had pulled your lips to her her soft ones, and your eyes closed instantly. Her lips were sweet and tasted like cherries, as you kissed you felt a rush in your body. You were finally kissing Cheryl Blossom, and she was kissing you like there was no one else in the room. You had scooted off your stool to get closer to Cheryl, as her hands tangled in your hair. You smiled into the kiss, pulling away to trail kisses to her jaw and one steamy one on her neck.

“Baby, I just want to dance,” you whispered and she nodded. She grabbed your hand, pulling you to the dance floor. The music blared loudly, but all you could think about was Cheryl, Cheryl, Cheryl. Her hands on your waist, turning and moving to the beat. People were staring and normally you’d care, but with Cheryl everything was just a whirlwind around you.

Soon you noticed that Cheryl was not only dancing along but singing as well. Her voice was carried like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, and you wished you could bottle the sound. You gave her a smile as you danced and in return she placed a searing kiss to your lips. You carried on for another few hours, enjoying the heat between the two of you.

Then you realized, you had out stayed your welcome. You started for the door but you felt a hand slip into yours. You turned around and met Cheryl’s warm gaze.

“Did you walk here?” You nodded in response and she simply shook her head. She slipped keys into your hand and you looked down at them. “Drive me home then?” You smiled at her and nodded. She pressed a kiss to your cheek and still holding your hand, led you outside to her car. She managed to keep her hands off of you while you drove but when you arrived at her house, she pulled you inside. Luckily for the two of you, her parents weren’t home. She opened a fancy looking wine bottle, to which you had a glass. When the bottle was downed, you both were a tangled mess.

“Are you still going to remember this?” She whispered and you looked down at her from where you were lying. She looked up at you and you could see a worry in her eyes.

“How could I forget?” You asked and she smiled sweetly.

“Good,” she whispered and her eyes shut slowly.

“I swear I’ll remember this.” You whispered back as she fell asleep.


You opened your eyes, your gaze met with the bright screen of your laptop. You smiled at the screen as your fingers typed like mad. You swore to remember, why not memorialize it?


The next day at school, when the final bell rang, you lingered near Cheryl’s locker. During the day, you had slipped your paper into her locker. You pressed you side against the wall, waiting for Cheryl to appear. Five minutes passed when you heard the clicking of heels. You ducked, hiding yourself for the most part.

“So who was the girl Cheryl?” You heard Ginger ask, her tone stung.

“Y/N L/N,” Cheryl said nonchalantly, “and I don’t need you judging me.”

“We’re not, we just didn’t realize you liked her.” Tia murmured and your heart skipped.

“Well I do, now-” she opened her locker door as she spoke and grew quiet when your note fell. She reached down a picked it up. Her long fingers unfolded the paper and a grin spread across her features. You smiled too, remembering the lyrics you had written down

I swear I’m going to put you in a song that I write

About a Galway Girl and a perfect night

anonymous asked:

Can we have were hanzo/ normal mccree where is Hanzo showing Mccree his other form? Or reversed with Hanzo seeing Mccrees other form for the first time? If not thats okay, thanks for providing us with amazing fics <3


Sure thing, Nonny! Never done a monster/werebeast!AU, so I’d love to give it a shot! :) Also apologies this took a little longer, I’ve been working on a lot of fics at once! I’m not as completely happy with it as I should be, but I hope it’s not too terrible.

Ship: McHanzo

Setting: New Overwatch (Canon Present)

Rating: SFW

AU: Monster/Werebeast


In all his years of working with Overwatch, Jesse had seen plenty of strange things: talking gorillas from the moon, a time-travelling teenager, a giant of a man who could swing a hammer just as high as he was with ease and who shook the ground whenever he laughed. He’d seen technologies that he could never even have dreamed of as a child and been part of events that had changed the world. More recently, he’d seen long-dead heroes return from the grave, one of whom was more ghost than man and had called everything he’d ever known into doubt; that was about as strange and shocking as Jesse thought it would get.

Then, about a month ago, he’d met Hanzo. Seeing Genji’s return was one of the many strange events on his list, but seeing Genji return alongside the brother that had murdered him was among the strangest of all. Jesse had been sceptical at first, a deeply ingrained paranoia from his Blackwatch days convincing him that it had to be some sort of plot or trap, but the more time he spent around Hanzo and the better he came to know him, the more Jesse found himself trusting the man – and, just maybe, even liking him.

Hanzo was stern – far sterner than Genji had been – and stoic; he rarely said more than he had to and refused to show anything that could be interpreted as weakness, including his emotions. He’d put up walls so high Jesse would need a climber’s kit to scale them, but boy did he want to. The mysterious air around the elder Shimada brother was intriguing and, though Jesse would never admit it aloud, strangely alluring. Handsome, impressive, and mysterious? It would have been criminal of Jesse to not take an interest.  And while Hanzo had avoided him like some awful smell at first, eventually Jesse’s pestering charm had whittled the walls down to fences.

Or he had, at least, temporarily lowered them until their last mission together a week ago, where Hanzo without a word of warning, had gone straight back to his usual, stern self; even worse than he used to be – he barely even looked in Jesse’s direction, if he could help it, and never said a word to him. When Jesse tried to ask him what he’d done wrong, Hanzo just huffed, scowled, and turned away. “You would not understand.”

That was the last thing Jesse had been able to get out of him, and he’d been driving himself mad ever since trying to figure out what it meant.

Keep reading

My favorite villain

My favorite villain is the person utterly in control of every room he steps in, yet never lets that fact blind him.

He plans ten steps ahead of everyone, but easily turns unforseen events in his favor.

His intelligence is never undercut by his ego.

He will attain his goals at any cost, knowing they’re worth any despicable action he takes.

(He’s not necessarily wrong)

He inspires fear in his enemies and unwavering loyalty in his followers.

He is loyal to those who follow him in turn.

He is sexual but not sexy, utterly disgusting yet strangely alluring at the same time.

He is reasonable and soft-spoken, but can and will kill you if you are in his way.

He is a scaly alien freak in a gimp outfit It’s Scorpius I’m talking about Scorpius

Fic Recs Mega Post

A little weekend reccing for any fannibals in need of a good read, this time we’ve got catmen, daemons and a goblin king… and that’s just for starters!

No Man’s Land by @empathalitis and @cannibalcuisine: Following a drunken, clumsy encounter with Hannibal… and Hannibal’s lips, and Hannibal’s hands (depicted in previous instalment In My Head There’s A War), Will finally has to confront his desire for the man he’s run away with. But, well, it’s Will and Hannibal, which means things are never going to be straightforward and between memories of ex-wives and a total lack of emotional intelligence, both men continue to tie themselves in knots rather than getting down to business. This wonderful fic skilfully flows between Will and Hannibal’s POVs, with an amazing handle on both characters and their emotions. And when that dam finally bursts? Well, let’s just say it is very, very much worth the wait!

Stray Cat by Not_You: Taking the “Hannibal is really a cat” theory to its logical conclusion, this AU finds Will working not for the FBI but for the government division that oversees the rights and management of human/animal hybrids. Some of these beings live as pets, others as humans, still others as part of the “Feral Nation” which operates outside of human society. And then there are Will’s worst nightmare, those who are kept in labs and cruelly experimented on. Hannibal is one such case, a human/cat hybrid placed into Will’s custody after escaping and murdering those who kept him in captivity. For a dog person, Will quickly grows attached to this fiercely intelligent, oddly endearing catman (and Hannibal, as usual, cares for no one but Will) but there are many, many hoops for them to jump through before going too far down that road… This is just a stunningly assured piece of writing – the worldbuilding is smart and intricate, Hannibal’s catlike characterisation is perfect and canon elements are woven in with care and intelligence.

Housewarming by @wrathofthestag (Mwuahna): In this latest part of the utterly wonderful, adorable Giving Themselves series (in which Will and Hannibal started dating after the Tobias Budge Incident™), the boys are moving in together. And a milestone in Hannibal Lecter’s life can mean only one thing: a big, fancy party (much to his dear Will’s horror). Invites are sent. Caterers are hired. Booze is stockpiled (well, Will and Bedelia will be in attendance). And shenanigans, inevitably, ensue. Not least of all when Will’s father shows up to set the cat amongst the pigeons (and to flirt with every female in sight). I love and adore this series with all my heart, and this latest part is no exception. It has everything: drunken hook-ups, Will and Bedelia bitching at each other, Mrs Komeda being fabulous, Will getting a handful of the Hannibooty, Jimmy Price saying words… it is, in other words, utterly glorious and I must insist that you read it. Now. Go!

The Vessel by @weconqueratdawn: Ok, I admit, I went into this assuming it was going to be an entertainingly kinky Hannigram romp (c’mon, the tags include “Coming Untouched,” “Threesome,” and “Wendigo porn” XD). And while plenty of kinks do get an airing, this is a much deeper and more complex fic than I had imagined, with an intense storyline exploring religious corruption, sexual slavery and the power of knowledge. Will is the Vessel of the title, a slave elevated to a sacred position within his society’s religion – which means that he suffers and bleeds for their sins, as well as being drugged and used as part of a sexual ritual by the holy men of his temple, including its Father, Jack (yep, there’s a bit of Jack/Will here!). Conditioned from his childhood to believe that he is performing a vital service for his community, doubts begin to creep into Will’s mind when Hannibal is installed as the temple’s new seer. This is an example of a brilliant writer taking elements of our beloved show and using them to create something fresh, intelligent and insightful, while always remaining completely true to the characters. It’s immensely impressive stuff that will linger in the reader’s mind long after the last chapter.

Labyrinth by @llewcie: Labyrinth was one of my favourite movies when I was a kid. Hell, it’s still one of my favourite movies – the amazing songs, the adorable characters… trying to figure out which is bigger, Bowie’s hair or his codpiece… So a Hannigram take on the 80s classic was pretty much guaranteed to appeal, and this fic does not disappoint! Will Graham wakes from a six-month coma to find that his father is dead and nobody seems to remember he has a sister, Abigail. Well, no one except the strange, alluring man sitting at his bedside – who claims to be the goblin king and that Will must defeat his labyrinth in order to get his sister back. The genius of this crossover AU is that, instead of a simple retread with the Hannibal characters standing in for those from the movie, Llew carefully redesigns the ‘verse to reflect Will and Hannibal. Which means we get a labyrinth that is much more dangerous and threatening, a “hero” who is long on sass and short on patience, and a “villain” whose intentions and morality are far more complex than they first appear. Oh, and a boatload of mutual flirtation, of course.

Quicksilver (series) by @weconqueratdawn with artwork by @theseavoices: I know, I know, I’m horribly late to the party here. This is just one of those series that I’ve been saving for special, but having been told off for my reticence by some fellow fannibals, I mainlined the whole series in a oner. And damn, it is as good as everyone says it is. In this AU, Will is a nineteen year old psychology student, who requests a meeting with Hannibal to discuss some coursework. Hannibal, impressed by the boy’s proposal, agrees to the meeting, little knowing that he will soon be utterly, irrevocably, life-alteringly besotted by the beautiful, confident, gender-fluid student who turns up at his office. Accompanied by some jaw-droppingly gorgeous artwork by theseavoices, this is an utter gem, a thing of beauty, featuring one of my all-time favourite versions of Will, who is sharp, sexy and empowered in these stories and a total joy to read. Don’t be like me and put off reading these – get over to ao3 and devour them now!

En Garde! by @artbyvictoriaskye (VictoriaSkyeMasters): VSM ends up on these lists pretty much every time she writes something new because she is a complete genius of AUs and rare pairs. Her latest is an absolute scream, taking the logical step of pairing Mads!Rochefort with Hugh!D’Artagnan in a brilliant funny, deeply sexy romp involving horse thievery, secretly soft villains and an impressive amount of spanking. It begins with a typically hot-heated, self-absorbed, vainglorious D’Artagnan once again search of adventure after his famous adventures with the Three Musketeers… and managing only to head back to the little village he had abandoned in search of glory. Where he makes the terrible mistake of splashing a certain eye-patched villain with mud and not apologising for it. And we all know what happens when you’re rude to a Mads… D’Artagnan soon finds himself a captive of the fearsome Rochefort but, as it turns out, he might not mind it all that much. This is easily one of my favourite fics ever, one I know I’ll be returning to over and over again.

Sweet Sanatorium by @thewanderingcannibal (wanderlust96): Sometime in the 1930s, a teenage Will Graham is institutionalised at his father’s request – partly for his sexuality (at a point in time when being gay could get you locked up) and partly for his uncanny empathy. Fortunately for Will, his new doctor finds these aspects of his character extremely appealing and Will soon finds himself under Doctor Lecter’s wing (not to mention, consensually, between his legs). Unfortunately for Will, though, not everybody’s happy about Hannibal taking favourites… One of the interesting things about Hannigram is that, by any measure of logic or reason, being with Hannibal Lecter is a terrible, awful, no-good decision. Except that, if you’re Will Graham, he might also be the person who can best love, protect and cherish you. And this AU hits that duality right on the button. It also contains a pleasing amount of murder and mayhem, so everything you could want in your Hannigram!

Tevelis by @shiphitsthefan: Ok, daddy kink is not my favourite. It’s not that I actively avoid it but I don’t go out of my way to find it either. And it certainly takes something special to make me truly enjoy it. So take this as the huge recommendation it is meant to be: I LOVED this fic. Post-fall, Will and Hannibal are playing a game. Their usual game, aka: “Hannibal is a cryptic bastard and Will can’t let him win.” Except this time, the stakes are even higher than murder and entrapment – this time, the boys have been discussing kinks, and Will’s tired of waiting for Hannibal to give. So he kidnaps a third party, one with empathic powers to match his own and, in something of a deviation from the usual Murder Husband M.O., doesn’t kill him. Instead, he uses him to finally find that one little word to light Hannibal’s fire… Daddy kink is definitely the marquee attraction here but it’s far from just a hook to entice readers. The kink is written with imagination, inventiveness and insight, used as a means of exploring Will and Hannibal’s dynamic as it develops into (somehow!) something even deeper and more intimate than it was before.

Hold for Release by @sunshinexlollipops (cloudsarefluffy): In this AU, omega Will Graham doesn’t use his empathy to consult for the FBI and BAU Chief Jack Crawford. Instead, he uses it to write for the Virginia Tribune and editor-in-chief Jack Crawford. This does not mean that he isn’t obsessed with the Chesapeake Ripper. Indeed, the nigh-on admiring tone of his articles about the serial killer is putting his job at risk. So being a sensible man who easily lets things go, Will starts a new story about… ha ha, no, of course not. Will, being an idiot who can’t leave well alone, takes his heat leave and his stored up vacation and (with a little help from Chilton being his usual idiotic self) winds up on the doorstep of one Dr Hannibal Lecter, an alpha who turns out to be quite a fan of Will’s journalism… especially his very flattering articles about the Ripper. I love and adore journalism AUs and the fact that this is an omegaverse version just makes it even more entertaining. Nothing is ever quite what it seems in this intricate and intelligent fic, with Will and Hannibal running rings round each other and thoroughly enjoying the process.

Turn the Page by @disraeligearsgoestumblin (DisraeliGears): I have a bone to pick with this fic – upon heading to bed one night I needed a new fic to read, and thought I’d get started on this. Cue me, still up at 4am, utterly unable to even think about sleeping until I finished this masterpiece. @disraeligearsgoestumblin, I entirely blame you for my inability to concentrate the following day! In this canon-divergent AU, instead of marrying Molly after Hannibal is imprisoned, Will sells everything, buys a motorbike and starts driving… and doesn’t stop for a good couple of years. Not until he, in quick succession, realises he wants Hannibal back, gets majestically drunk, and essentially gets adopted by a middle-aged Mexican woman who puts him to work in her bar. This beautifully atmospheric piece takes Will on a very different voyage of discovery than in canon, one in which, without the distraction of his ready-made family, Will has to confront the truth about himself and his feelings for Hannibal with rather more honesty. And the results are… interesting, to say the least… especially when a familiar face turns up at the bar…

One Way Out Of Many by @hellotailor and @nakamasmile: I cannot possibly describe to you the depth of my love for Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series of novels – I utterly, utterly adore them. So reading this Hannigram crossover AU was a complete delight, especially given the lovely, inventive divergence it takes from canon. Set in s1, just as the symptoms of Will’s encephalitis are growing truly disturbing, Hannibal’s daemon (Daiva, who takes the form of a stoat) decides that Will and his daemon (Poppy, a crow) belong to her and Hannibal. So she sabotages Hannibal’s conspiracy with Sutcliffe, ensures that Will gets the treatment he needs and persuades Hannibal onto a new path: to ensnare Will via care and affection. The addition of daemons to the Hannibal ‘verse makes for a fascinating new perspective on the characters and their relationships. And, most pleasingly, both Poppy and Daiva are utterly fascinating creations in their own right, often getting sections written from their own POVs and given agency and agendas of their own.

A Companionable Silence by @hotsauce418: One Eye has been alone for a long time, believing it to be for the best and not seeing much chance for change anyway. Until the alpha rescues a young omega named Charmont from a cage and finds himself growing irrevocably attached to the fierce, spirited young man to whom he lends his protection. Raised as royalty, and an alpha besides, Char has serious issues of his own to work through, but living in close proximity makes it hard for either man to ignore their growing attraction, and when Char’s first heat hits, well… Soft alpha One Eye and sassy omega Char is surely one of the greatest madancy pairings yet – they’re a beautiful example of that contrasting yet complimentary dynamic that makes the rare pairs phenomenon so compelling. And hotty writes them with such obvious affection and care, it’s an absolute treat to observe. Valhalla Enchanted is a thing of beauty and you should all treat yourselves by reading this!

An Unorthodox Dinner by @ratbagqueen: This writer’s one and only Hannibal fic and it’s so damn good, I can only pray they’ll bestow another on us someday! Set post-season 2, Will is recovering from the events of Mizumono (and trying to figure out just why the hell he seems to be missing the man who gutted him), when he receives an invitation in a familiar, elegant hand. Hannibal, it seems, is still in Baltimore, somehow, and still has designs on having Will for dinner. Both more and less literally than Will fears… I rushed straight through this fic, utterly hooked by the slowly building tension between our boys. Both characters are beautifully rendered and the writing is pleasingly redolent of that sinister-yet-intimate tone of the best Hannigram scenes. Although I must warn you: anybody who has issues with seafood might want to steer clear!

As ever and always, if I’ve mistagged anyone or there are bad links, please let me know and I’ll fix them lickety-split. Until next time, lovely fannibals <3

Forbidden Fruit (Jacob Frye)

Your smile brightened up the ballroom as you stepped foot through the doors. Your shimmering (E/C) eyes observed the guests as you made your way through the crowd. Your beautiful dress was turning heads; men were complimenting you on your natural beauty while the women gave small smiles and returned to their small talks, no doubt gossiping about every little thing that happens in Whitechapel. You made your way to the grand staircase and greeted your doting mother and father on the top steps.

“Oh (Y/N), you are looking marvelous this evening.” Your mother cooed, eyeing you up and down with admiration in her eyes. She turned to your father and hugged his side as his gentle smile appeared in your gaze. He walked over to you and took your gloved hand as he raised it to spin you around, taking in your appearance.

“My dear daughter, you do look lovely. You look just like your mother.” He gave you a slight hug as you looked over his shoulder to look at the crowd conversating below. Everyone was here to celebrate your twentieth birthday, but the celebration seemed more for your father’s business; his business partners were here instead of your closest friends. You went along with it though, because you were never the one for too much attention pointed in your direction.

“Oh how are you enjoying your party, (Y/N)?” Your father asked you as you stood by the railing, eyeing the cheerful crowd.

“It’s perfect, father. I see that you have invited some of your business partners as well?” You nodded your head in the direction of the little throng of men, talking lowly in the corner of the room, eyeing everyone in the room until one of their dark gazes meet your bright one.

“Oh… yes of course. Even on your special day, I still have to work, unfortunately. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He pecked you on your cheek and kissed your mother before descending the stairs and making his way over to his partners. You sighed as you turned your head to your mother, who had a look of concern staring at your father.

“Mother, what is it exactly that father does? I don’t think he has ever told me.” Your question brought your mother back to the moment as her wide eyes turned to you and her concerned look faded away and her faded rose lips tugged upwards to a smile.

“Oh, heavens, (Y/N) darling. Your father… his job is very strangely alluring and dangerous for the men that work with him. He is a powerful man in his own state of standing…” Her voice drifted as her eyes carefully watched your father interact with his partners, his smile was big and bright, but his body seemed stiff and tense as if something was to go terribly wrong. “Anyways, let’s not dwell on your father and his strange occupation, it is your day after all.” Her smile was genuine as she stood next to you at the railing of the stairs.

The musicians played some somber music, majorly contrasting against the loud and boisterous crowd that stood before them. The music was quite fine to you but your mother thought otherwise and asked them to change the beat of the even, so they did. The music was uplifting and everyone began to grab a dance partner and take the floor. The tables were left vacant and the dance floor was full with voluminous dresses and classy men. Your smile struggled to stay on your face as you wished to dance with someone.

Your prayers were soon answered as your eyes drifted to the ballroom doors opening and two people walking in through the door, one male, and the other female. The man looked dashing as ever, but could be easy seen as out of place with the color of his vest, a deep woods green that stood out against the black, gray or white ones. His hazel eyes were dancing around the room as a smirk took place of his lips. His eyes just had this charismatic feel to them that you seemed to be allured by them.

The woman seemed fairly uncomfortable standing there in her scarlet dress, contrasting to your (F/C) dress that was very voluminous. Her hair was beautifully done in a braided crown that wrapped around her head. Her kind smile was only a facade that you saw through, she looked as if the man had simply dragged her against her own will. Her hands were at her sides as she inspected every inch of the ballroom, her sea green eyes looking over you as you just watched the two.

“Mother, who is that posh couple at the door? Are they friends of fathers?” You asked curiously as you took slight steps to the stairs. Your mother wasn’t listening to you as she was busy chatting with other people who stood near her. You decided to investigate yourself and you found yourself halfway down the winding staircase, smiling at the kind gentleman and woman.

You approached them slowly with a sweet smile as you stared them both in the eyes. The man’s smile grew as you introduced yourself to them.

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), welcome to my party. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that we have never met. You two are?” You looked at the man as you saw him gently take your hand and bring it up to his lips. Your cheeks blushed a beautiful peach before you turned the other way to hide it.

“I am Jacob Frye, and this her is my dear sister, Evie Frye. Sorry for barging into your little party, but we thought it was a free gathering of some sorts. If you wish for us to leave…” His voice trailed as you shook your head in a disagreement.

“Oh, you two are fine here, I can’t possibly say no to you two dashing people. Come, get a drink with me, if you are interested.” You looked between the two and right before Evie was to respond, another man came up and took her hand, dragging her to the ballroom floor. She gave her brother a warning look as her head nodded in the direction of you. You brushed it off, thinking that she was worried about being swept away in the party.

“Well, how about you Jacob? Would you like a drink? I know I am parched.” You laughed lightly as he held out his hand for you to take.

“Lead the way, Miss (L/N).”

“Oh, please, call me (Y/N). I’m still youthful looking, am I not? Only women who have been married and widowed with children can be called ‘Miss’.”

“Alright then.” He smiled at you as you brought him to the drink table. You poured each other a drink and stood by the edge of the ballroom floor, watching everyone, including Evie dance around to the lively music.

“So, this is your party? May I ask for what?”

“My birthday. I am now twenty, but my parents still believe I am their baby girl. Isn’t it a bit touching?” You asked him curiously as you sipped your drink before taking one big swing of it before returning for more.

“So touching, indeed…” His voice seemed sarcastic as he finished his drink and returned for more. “I would not know what that feeling is like, my mother died during childbirth and my father had recently passed.”

“Sorry to hear that, let’s drink to them. They have raised such a fine gentleman.” You turned to him as you waited for him to bring his glass to yours, but he didn’t; he turned to you with a sly smirk plastered to his face.

“I rather not, but thank you for the complement. Your parents have raised such a beautiful girl.”

“Careful now with the word girl, in your eyes, I am supposed to be seen as a young beautiful woman, so says my parents.” You laugh as you finished your drink and set it down on one of the nearby tables.

“Well, would you care to dance with me, such a beautiful young woman must dance at her party.” He said to you as he held out his hand for you to take. Your smile grew brighter as you took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. He took hold on your waist as you placed your hands on his shoulder.

The music played and you two danced with the rhythm. Your dress swayed with every step to the side, every twirl and dip in Jacob’s arms. It felt magical as you slowly tuned out the rest of the people dancing around you, and it felt like it was just you and him in the moment. His hazel gaze never left yours as moved. A small smile was on his lips as he stared down at you with awe, but something in his eyes seemed…dark.

“You’re awfully quiet. What is on your mind?” He asked as he looked around the crowd, no doubt looking for his sister, Evie. His eyes returned to yours as you shrugged your bare shoulders.

“Nothing that is to your concern, sorry if I sound rude, I just have a lot on my mind this night.” You confessed, your eyes drifting to your father talking to some woman that you could not see.

“It is fine if you do not wish to talk. I prefer if we just stare into each other eyes… what marvelous eyes you have.” He made you blush as you looked down at his feet. “Oh love, don’t hide your blush from me, I find it quite adorable.”

“Oh… thank you. You mind if we head to the gardens? It is quite stuffy in here and I can barely hear myself think.” You chuckled nervously as you pulled him to the gardens.

You sat on the wooden bench as you watched the waterfall flow. It was silent and both of you played with your fingers. You felt His gaze burn into the side of your head, before you turned to him quickly, to catch him in the act.

“You were staring” You smiled at him as he shook his head, disagreeing with you. “I saw you, liar.”

“I am so sorry, but your eyes must have been playing tricks on you. I wasn’t doing any such thing…” he looked at you as you smirked at him, “If I was staring, it would only be because I find your beauty so alluring.” His words faded into the night as you both leaned into one another.

Your lips were grazing each other before, you sealed the deal with connecting your lips all the way. He cupped your face as you placed a hand on his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. It was sweet and tender, he was not too rough, but he wasn’t too gentle as his lips stayed on yours. He pulled you almost onto his lap, but the skirt of your dress was getting in the way.

A loud clearing of someone’s throat sounded right in front of you two and you quickly pulled apart to find Evie standing before you two, her arms folded across her chest and a look of concern and anger glistening in her eyes.

“Oh dear brother Jacob, I am ready to leave. I am not feeling so good.” Her voice was strained as she waited for Jacob to join her. He didn’t budge, so Evie started to hold her stomach as if she was going to vomit.

“Evie, you don’t look bad, but maybe it’s the makeup that makes it difficult to see.” He chuckled lightly before standing up from the bench and taking a spot near his sister’s side. He hugged her to his side as he looked at you with mirth and content. “Oh dear (Y/N), it was nice to meet you this evening, but as you can see, I must leave. I hope we can meet again, sometime soon.”

“I hope so too, Now go on and get out of here. I hope you feel better Evie.” You told her as she smiled faintly before turning around and entering the place to leave. Jacob had followed right behind her as she talked quietly to him.

You were happy with the way your evening went, but you were left a little empty after Jacob had left. You returned to the party and took your place beside your mother and father as you began to wrap up the party.

_______________________________________________________

“You are a complete bloody idiot, do you know that!” Evie raised her voice as she turned to face Jacob, showing her full anger.

“What did I do to anger you, oh dear sister? Did I get mud on your evening dress? Oh, Did I rip your dress or maybe I stepped on your foot while we arrived at the party?” Jacob seemed annoyed with Evie’s sudden outburst, but he didn’t really care to actually do something about it.

“The girl, (Y/N). You know exactly what you have done. You kissed our targets daughter, you halfwit!” She raised her voice and slammed her hands down on her desk as he turned her head to look at the dumbfounded Jacob.

“She never said anything about her father being a templar or anything along those lines.” He spoke softly to himself, but Evie heard and scoffed.

“She might not even know, or she is really good at hiding it. Either way, she is off limits, you hear, once we find out what she really knows and what her motives are, she can’t be touched. Got it Jacob?” She stood before him, her arms folded as she looked down at him as he laid on his couch in the train cart. “Swear that you will not go near her until we get things sorted out.”

“I swear.”

Evie left the room on that note and Jacob let out a sigh of frustration. He could care less what Evie told him, he was a part of the mission also, so his say counted too. He couldn’t just leave you out to dry as he and Evie decided if you were a templar yourself. He was taking a liking to you, but he knew that he had fallen prey to a templar before. You were off limits to him, and he kind of liked it, though, to him, it made the whole situation feel more dangerous and fun.

Seoul Nights: A Prologue

Originally posted by daria-bellum

The daytime belongs to the innocent, pure, wholesome, righteous, just sheep of the world.  The harsh lights of the sun expose and amplify just how much the decrepit and devious do not belong in the world of light.  The sheep flock back and forth, day in and day out in a monotonous, rigid, predictable pattern they call “safety.”  There is safety in order, they proclaim, and order in justice.  There is only black and white. No grey intermingling and blurring the lines, no spaces to crawl into and explore the darker sides of themselves they’re too afraid to admit they have.  The daytime is for the simpleminded and weak sheep.

But the nighttime…

The nighttime is ruled by the wicked, terrifying, deceitful, ruthless, conniving, chaotic, selfish, greedy wolves of the world.  The darkness snuffs out the clear-cut lines between right and wrong that the sheep so desperately trot along.  The wolves thrive on the disordered thrills the night provides, always seeking the next high, the next score, the next chase.  They crave the dangers lurking in the shadows of the night. The wolves hunt, circle, and isolate the unfortunate sheep that get separated from the cowardly flock, toying with the pleading sheep as they see fit.  The wolves take everything they can and destroy what they don’t wish to keep.  The only order they know is the chaos the night provides.  It is all they have. It is all they need.  The nighttime is for the cruel and brutal wolves.

But both–the daytime and the nighttime, the wolves and the sheep–are ruled by the devilishly deviant shepherds of syndicated crime. They rule the city with an iron grip. They care for neither side, as neither alone can provide them with the power they need. They are the true middle ground; sometimes acting as the indomitable guards of the helpless sheep against the rabid wolves and sometimes leaving the gates to the sheep pen open for the desperate wolves’ delight. They care neither for justice nor injustice, as they have a firm hand pressing down on the balances of the city; if they lift even a finger, the city is thrown into sheer panic and chaos. They rule everything and everyone. Wolves and sheep alike fear them for they know they are the true gods of destruction. Everything runs through them and revolves around them. They are the pillars that ground the daytime and the nighttime. They are the bridge that blends the black and white and grey shades of the city. They are the mind, heart, and soul that keeps Seoul thriving. Without them, Seoul would implode.

But who are these shadowy figures that stroll so casually between both worlds throughout all hours of the day?

They’re the friendly faces you see passing by from time to time, making your heart race at their natural beauty but also unnerving you for reasons you can’t quite explain. They’re the faces you know all too well but not well enough to distinguish them until they’ve slipped through your grasp like a slippery koi. They’re the faces you know you would never wish to see in the dark corners of the night lest they were hovering over you with beads of sweat trickling down their skin. They’re the faces you can never stare at for too long in the bright planes of sunlight lest their strange allure reel you into a life of wickedness and woe you can never escape from with your life intact. They’re the faces plastered across television screens, timelines, newsfeeds, magazines, newspapers, billboards, and buildings. They’re the commanding faces loved by many, despised by even more, and feared by all. They’re the faces of the gruesome monsters under your bed and the guardian angels that comes to your rescue. Who they are to you is what you decide them to be. But the real question is: Are you a wolf or are you a sheep?


Continue…

Touch

Originally posted by powerfultenderness

Summary: Gadreel finds the placement of your anti-possession tattoo to be strangely alluring. 

Paring: Gadreel/Reader

Warnings: a little language. Not smut, though the gif would imply it. (I’m allowed to use my own gif though! lol)

A/N: I have literally been sitting on this fic for months (something like six or seven?), except for the last something like 400 words? Not entirely how this was planned, but I needed to get this done. 

Word count: 3,310

Keep reading

&𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 @christtinedaae​​   ♫♪


the flush of color to her cheeks is maddeningly gorgeous, even in her embarrassment. he did not intend to shame her, but for such a sight his tease is well rewarded. not only the charming, strangely alluring swedish that flows from her tongue but now this — she is lovely, she draws him with irresistible charms in her often humorous state  &&  creates in him something insatiable. pushing fortune, he tests his luck with continued advance to the fair one lurking in the entry. still, words of continued jest are still on his tongue when that sweet smile forms on her face and a familiar warmth builds in his chest.

she whispers something unintelligible but it entices him when it is not meant to and he wishes he hadn’t abandoned learning the nordic language for the first time — it would have been so useful in bonding with his protegé … he might know the woman herself better now if he had. disappointment settling in his eyes that flit away only to land on her once more with shock at her words now in french. and the laughter, the bubbling lilt is what drives him over and his breath catches, stuck knowledgeably in a moment that might live on in his best of memories for the rest of his days.

christine daaé ! now declared in genuine disbelief, placing a gloved hand over his chest in mock indignation. ❝ the doorframe is not at fault here — i’d remove it, but that would defeat its purpose. it was meant to keep people out — well… that is, a door should serve such a purpose. ignore the fact that no one ever comes here for now i see i have made my own point moot...❞   captured again in her amused eyes, driven mad by the affect he has on her that is somehow not one terrifying or stern. ❝ i’m afraid you’ll have to teach me your words from now on, for i’m rather illiterate compared to you —  and as it is your native tongue, i insist you at once teach me every obscenity known to man so i might recognize your impropriety and correct it immediately when the next offense occurs. ❞

@blanc-ventus 

Blanc moved through the streets of the seedy town of Windpath, her wandering journey across Anima bringing her her closest to Mistral yet. She even felt like, if she took a deep breath, she could smell the city in the distance. However, what caught her attention wasn’t her imagined smell of Mistral, or even the people moving around her through the streets, but a strong, strange, yet oddly alluring smell somewhere in the city. She sniffed a few times, just trying to get a beat on it, before realizing it must be an Alpha’s scent. The young Omega had smelled Alpha’s before, but nothing had ever stood out to her. Her legs were moving before she knew it, carrying her through the streets, towards the source of the smell.

When Mantle had told him he would be leading troop movements in Mistral, operating with the kingdom’s local forces, Ash had forseen glorious marches, great barracades, men by the thousands armed with hybrid technology crushing all in their way.

Instead; he got a bunch of Mistrali volunteers, mostly non-Huntsmen, who had barely held a sword, let alone a Mantle MA5D assault rifle. They were more a danger to themselves than to the enemy…

His actual Mantle troops were better, but there just weren’t enough of them…
Oum, what a MESS.

The Alpha rubbed his eyes, tired, feeling his paitence slowly chipping away. Idiots, all of them…
And worse; the few Omegas he could smell were weak. Spineless. 
All he had in terms of a unit was his Beta Hester. She was good, but a Beta needed an Omega or two to keep them happy…
He stretched, looking around. 

“Useless.”

Sinful Attraction

Taehyung Imagine/Scenario

Genre: Bro idek. An au I guess??? royalty/supernatural!au

Blurb: A girl finds her way into an ostentatious ball at a kingdom she lives in. Despite dancing with a handsome bachelor named Jimin, she finds herself strangely attracted to an alluring, dark stranger across the ballroom floor. But would he be anything mundane like she’d imagine him to be? (I’m shit at abstracts. I hope you still wanna read it haha.)

Word Count: 4,596

Taehyung x (Girl??? DUDES IDEK IT JUST SAYS GIRL)

A/N: This was a project given to me by my literary genres teacher. We were supposed to write a gothic story… And this is what resulted from it. I’m such fanfic trash I swear. I apologize sincerely in advance. If you happen to find any mistakes, please point them out to me (:


A handsome young man by the name of Taehyung, who also happened to be a royal heir, lived in the kingdom of Shevibourne. Whispers about the young prince being the most elegant and alluring dancer in the land floated from ear to ear in dimly lit taverns, to elaborate dress shops, to rowdy eateries and so forth. Smooth and sophisticated was his dancing style as he would twirl young girls across the ballroom floor in an intricate path that left behind wisps of the young couple’s perfumed scents. Using his charms and honeyed words, the royal dancer is able to create the perfect facade of being a gentlemanly prince who is fit for the future action of taking over his father’s position as king. He depicts himself as a flawless youth, which is expected of during the dark Victorian times, that caters to everyone’s needs as he is the royal prince. Though everyone sees him as a well groomed, polite, and attractive royal, Taehyung has a dark secret. His dances that seemingly seem to seduce young naive girls into his arms hold a dark undisclosed reality: his ability to imbue his partners with a sense of morbid damnation which in turn, spurs on their want to bring down those alongside them into their own dark view of life.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Fourty with Gen. Hux? If you don't mind obviously ;w;

General Hux + Wearing Their Clothes


General Hux was a respectable man. He always began his day at precisely the same time with the exact same dish he had everyday: one apple and two slices of bread. He walked the same route each day, never once straying from his purposeful path. Hux was routine and entirely professional.

And then he met you.

You were enigmatic and strange. Alluring, yet seemingly uninterested. You never had the same meal any two days and you arrived at your station when you did, never at a set time. Some days you’d walk the scenic route while others you’d make your own shortcuts. You were unpredictable and wild and General Hux had to have you.

Hux didn’t understand love, not truly, but he did notice the changes in his person when you were near. His heartbeat picked up and his lips annoyingly strayed from their permanent frown. Every so often an unfamiliar, unused laugh would sneak its way past his lips and a deep scarlet would encompass his cheeks. His mind would wander from work to you.

He thought it was an infatuation, that he’d simply been enamored by your unique personality and sweet laugh.

And then he woke up late.

His baby blue eyes opened well after their normal time, his body happily sated. Last night had been spent in the throes of pleasure. He’d memorized every single sinful noise that had escaped your swollen lips. Each kiss he’d given you was a taste of some divine source that he didn’t believe in. But the hours spent worshiping your body didn’t compare to the sight he’d woken up to.

You were by a window overlooking Starkiller Base, the smallest ray of sunshine peeking through the blinds. It cast over your body like it was sent from the heavens itself. His crumpled, black shirt was the only thing hiding every inch of smooth skin from him. With a sweet smile on your lips, your head was tilted back the slightest bit, allowing the light to illuminate your beauty. It took his breath away.

Never before had he felt this helpless and out of control. An unbidden smile crept onto his lips and his heart skipped a beat. 

General Hux was a respectable man. He never strayed from his schedule.

And then he met you.

And he thought this must be love.

Something was different. Well, to be honest, things had been different for a while now. Not asking about the eyepatch had been fine. After all, the accident had been terrible. In all likeliness there was probably a scar or a burst blood vessel in his eye that he wanted to cover up. He was already self-conscious enough about his appearance so Hide decided not to bring attention to it. But then there was his strange reclusiveness, pulling away from Hide in a way that he hadn’t since the death of his mother. Kaneki didn’t want to hang out outside of class anymore. They stopped sharing meals.

And really, Hide had ought to be grateful for that last one. The burgers had always tasted awful but his smile while eating them had been genuine. It was always worth it to make Kaneki happy.

Hide started when the end credits to the movie began to roll, realizing that he had dozed off. He began to stretch but then stopped when he became aware of a weight on his right side. It seemed that Kaneki had fallen asleep too, leaning heavily against him.

Keep reading

Imagine taking Ahkmenrah to an amusement park.

The faint sound of screaming in the distance was the first thing you noticed as you both exited the car. You turned toward the park. Towering above everything else stood the park’s main attraction. A huge lumbering double wooden roller coaster. Two trains. One red and one blue, raced against each other non-stop all day long and into the night. The high-pitched shrieks of faraway terror sent your stomach into knots, as you recalled your first time on that particular coaster.

Memories of your friend taunting you as you both made your way up the steep climb in opposing trains. Quickly you tried to wipe the sweat off your palms to get a better grip on the safety bar in front of you. The anticipation you felt as your train peaked at the top. Holding still for seconds that felt like hours. Then slowly gaining momentum faster and faster as it plummeted straight down. Your body whipping around bends at such a high rate of speed, causing you to crush the person seated next to you. The feel of the wind beating against your face so roughly that tears trickled out the corners of your eyes. Being too terrified to let go of the bar to wipe them away. The double bump towards the end shot you out of your seat. Even though your backside only lifted an inch or two, for a split second you thought you were dead. In your mind you saw your body ejected from the train, splattered on the track and run over. That’s when you screamed. A horrible, terrible wail from the depths of your soul that lasted until the end of the ride. When your winning train pulled to a stop your knuckles were white, your throat dry and hoarse. You slowly pulled your gnarled and shaking hands off the safety bar and exited your train. Your legs trembling and your hands sore.

You chuckled under your breath as you wrung your hands together as if feeling the soreness now. You looked over at Ahkmenrah. His face was pale, his eyes wide. He stared at the giant coaster. You could hear the faint clickety-clacking noise of the chain pulling both trains slowly uphill. That sound always made your heart race.

“Those are good screams, I promise.” You told him, trying not to laugh.

Ahkmenrah nodded gravely as he watched both trains plunge down the hill. Then whip around the corner only to disappear behind the souvenir and food shops.

“Come on.” You said taking his hand and dragging him toward the entrance of the park.

Ahkmenrah moved slowly behind you. You understood his hesitation. The noise of the rides, the screams, the music. It was a lot to take in at once. You squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. He gave you a meek smile.

“They call this an amusement park, correct?” He asked.

“Correct.” You answered.

“Yes, well it seems quite amusing so far.” He muttered.

You turned the corner toward the ticket booths. Right before the turnstiles sat the same old weathered statue, Cowboy Joe. An old fiberglass cowboy with a large brown hat, boots and vest sitting on a park bench. Mostly he was just there to take pictures with. The parks unofficial mascot. You’re parents had taken countless pictures of you with that cowboy. Year after year, summer after summer. Until you were too old, too cool, for your parents to take you to the park. But even then as silly teenagers, every year you still took a picture with Cowboy Joe.

As you walked up to the main ticket window you heard the demented cackling of Laffin’ Sal. Behind a large pane of glass next to the ticket window was a mechanical woman with a large gap-toothed smile. She waved at the visitors as she laughed maniacally. The park installed Sal back in 1931 to raise the spirits of visitors during the Great Depression. Her laugh sounded deranged, diabolic even. The kind of laugh a mad scientist would have. These old relics had a strange, yet whimsical macabre look to them. Their creepy eyes always seemed to follow you no matter where you went. You laughed at Ahkmenrah staring at Sal with an unsettled look.

“You keep staring like that and she might jump out of that window and getcha.” You whispered to Ahkmenrah as you grabbed his shoulders and making him jump.

He turned around to stare at you, clearly frightened.

“I’m just kidding. Come on.” You said taking his hand and leading him through the turnstiles.

You walked down the ramp. Passing all the different colorful flowers lined along the path. The entrance to the park was only accessible through a tunnel that ran underneath the road above. The smooth concrete walls created the perfect echo. Screeches of delight echoed off the walls as a half-dozen children ran past. Ahkmenrah laughed as he watched a few adults, walking fast, trying to keep up. The echoes of merriment died down as the sound of parents reprimanding their children took over.    

As you neared the end of the long tunnel the aroma of sweet delectable food filled your lungs. Cotton candy, candied apples, popcorn, kettle corn and all types of fried deliciousness. Your mouth began to water with every step. You looked over at Ahkmenrah. His eyes were closed and he was licking his lips.

“What is that smell?” He asked as he inhaled deeply.

“Guilty pleasures. And we will try every single one.” You said with an impish wink.

He blushed. “I think I shall enjoy that.”

It took a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the light once you exited the tunnel. Bright neon lights adorned the candy and souvenir shops. Beckoning visitors to come in and spend their money. Racing incandescent bulbs lined the long alleyway of games. Luring guests in with promises of giant prizes and trophies. Dusk had always been your favorite time at the park. There was nothing more beautiful than the vivid dazzling lights around all the rides. The dizzying effect of the fast-moving lights had a strange hypnotic allure that could not be denied. The whole park came alive at night, much like the Museum of Natural History. You glanced over in Ahkmenrah’s direction. The apprehension, the nervousness all seemed to have disappeared from his face. His eyes were huge and bright, mesmerized by the enchanting display before him. His mouth was wide open and slowly spreading into a smile that stretched ear to ear.

Ahkmenrah’s eyes roamed all over the immediate area. He watched as a vendor bent out of his window to hand a small child a monstrous bag of pink and blue cotton candy. He then turned his attention to a younger couple playing a game. He chuckled as he watched the boy try again and again to win his girlfriend a prize. Only to have her throw the ball once and claim the victory instead. She proudly handed her boyfriend a large purple tissue paper flower on a two and a half-foot stem. The boy hung his head in shame only to perk up a moment later. He started to dance around with the flower. Twirling it around like an umbrella before bowing and handing it over to his girlfriend. Ahkmenrah took your hand and brought it up to his lips. Kissing it sweetly and making you blush.

“So what do you want to do first oh great pharaoh of Egypt?”

Ahkmenrah looked at you, his eyes shining and said. “Everything.”

Can you imagine a Night Vale/Star Trek crossover? Just think of the possibilities!

Captain Kirk is sent to investigate the disappearance of a small science team aboard the ship Curiosity, led by a skilled scientist named Carlos, who had orginally ben sent to investigate the mysterious moon known only as Night Vale (which had a strange seemingly sentient ship that glowed constantly orbiting it called- what was it, the Glow Cloud?) and had never returned or sent signal back.

They pick up signals circling the entire moon- and when they tune in find it’s some sort of new report- a very strange one. They mention a forbidden dog park, perhaps, or a smiling god. And the man speaking- wow, he has a nice voice, one yeoman notes- seems to go from ominous and menacing to squeaky and excited in .005 seconds. One second he talks about mysterious helicopters taking children or pterodactyls killing parents and teachers, the next he has an existential crisis involving his own existence or even the moon (do they have a moon? what?) or the endless void (for some reason the stars aren’t visible- or, most of them aren’t- and there is no scientific explanation for this, much to Spock’s annoyance) and the next it’s cute cat videos or- the floating cat in the men’s bathroom? Hmmm.

Then, he mentions his boyfriend (with perfect hair and an oaky voice, apparently) and he sounds very excited about a date? They’re all very confused about how he seems to jump from news to personal things to random things that don’t even make sense (The rabbits are not what they seem) and they’re all trying to figure out where to even start because they’re not even sure if they can beam down safely with all those earthquakes, although the man on the radio doesn’t seem effected or bothered at all by these quakes? And they’re wondering okay, what now? when he mentions the boyfriend’s name- Carlos. Carlos, a lovely scientist and once-outsider. Coincidence? Unlikely. As all previous experience with the moon they have been fairly hostile (not as hostile as the deceptively friendly neighbor moon Desert Bluffs- that had not ended well at all) they assume that he was likey kidnapped. After all, the man has already misused several terms such as a healthy meal including gluten-free pizza and absolutely no wheat and wheat byproducts so who knows how Carlos is really doing? Who knows what he sees as a date or boyfriend or whatever if he sees children bringing weapons to school is not only normal but recommended and librarians are evil monsters?

So they send a landing party, at first very concerned as the whole place seems rather dark and creepy and there is no sign of quakes despite what all of their instruments say, and they even pass a house that isn’t there! They can’t beam back up or make contact with the ship for some reason… They see some strange, tall beings of light that look suspiciously like angels circling an old woman, but the radio man (how can they still hear him? does someone have a radio turned on nearby?) cuts in as if he can hear exactly what they’re thinking and mentions that angels do not exist at all so they move on, still confused. They lose an intern redshirt to the strange forest whispering alluring comments and they’re generally very confused and freaked out. McCoy is muttering something about damn mysteries and Spock is trying not to look put off and Jim is torn between excitement at the adventure and anticipation because you know something bad’s going to happen, right? The man has been commenting on their actions for the past few minutes now- he mentioned new visitors in Night Vale and their strange clothing and how they better not be using time travel technology because hey, that’s against the law right now! But then he makes a comment about going to the Weather- which is odd because after that some strange music plays through but that’s it. A passerby seems to be nodding at the radio waves as if she understood exactly what it meant.

But they meet a strange man with- a third eye and tentacles? No species they’ve ever met- who seems rather threatening at first as he has a fanged smile and he asks in a low voice what do they want from Night Vale and Spock notes silently that this is the voice from the radio while McCoy makes some snarky comment at Kirk who makes a separate passive aggressively snarky comment at the three-eyed man. The man blinks, but still looks rather hostile but is proved harmless when, lo and behold, the missing scientist runs out, grinning, waving a clipboard and yelling something about science and maybe like gives him a kiss on the cheek (to which the radio host blushes, let’s be honest) and is like, “Cecil, guess what-!” and kind of pausing, looking at the landing party who look a little surprised to find him alive and he’s like “Wait, are these outside- I mean starfleet officers?”

And they’re not sure like is this stockholm syndrome or a misunderstanding or brainwashing??? I mean after that StrexCorp mess with those creepy smiling office workers on the other moon, taking risks is not advised, right?

So they reluctantly follow Carlos back into his lab, the man- Cecil, they learn, who is a ominous little marshmallow- goes back to finish off his radio show (After a kiss, right, because cecilos beautifulness is required)- and he explains what’s happened since, and hey, they probably haven’t got his messages yet, have they, Night Vale does have a strange time stream (when it has one, apparently, as they overheard one scientist mutter huffily, they cancelled Wednesday again last week, damn it) and just

Like, I’m not sure where I’m going with this but just imagine, you know?

Tamika Flynn, shooting down StrexCorp pilot fighters or something, and Cecil insisting they try some of John Peters-you know, the farmer-’s imaginary corn because it’s delicious and Carlos getting along surprisingly well with Spock while Cecil befriends Captain Kirk, and McCoy takes a liking to Khoshekh, ironically, and Cecil making some comment about Steve Carlsberg while Carlos rolls in his eyes in the background and Carlos mentions he’s stuck here so I guess you guys are too, sorry, and the scientists teasing Carlos about his and Cecil’s beginning so naturally Jim wants to hear all about this and finally Carlos and Spock find a way out of the forcefield so they can leave and Cecil is of course very worried because what if Carlos leaves??? but when they ask Carlos- none of them actually think he’s going to come- Carlos is like LOL nope my life is here, please bitch, I got Cecil and science and friends like I need normalcy or something pssh so Cecil (And the collective of Night Vale, honestly, if only because they all care about their precious Cecil and the loss of Carlos would effect him dearly) are very relieved

So they go back and the higher-ups are like so where’s that scientist anything we can use on that planet and they’re like well Carlos is fine and Night Vale isn’t a threat, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea to send anyone else there

And maybe they press or something, who knows, but it would be a great adventure dear lord

Malec AU First Meeting #6 ‘Shy’

You know the deal :-) It was requested badboy!Magnus and Shy!Alec and I decided to do it with the word ‘shy’. I kind of like it, though I would still say I was a bit off my game while writing some parts … anyway, hope you like it.

Highschool: Alec runs into Magnus who is about to spray something on a  teacher’s car. 

Not edited.

-+-

Alec wouldn’t call himself ‘shy’, really. 'Extremely bad at making small talk’, yes. He didn’t like big crowds of people, indeed. The words he wanted to say came out too quiet for the rest of the world, sure as hell, but he simply didn’t want to scream across the classroom or a counter. Unfortunately that led to people leaning closer to him when they asked him to repeat his words and Alec wasn’t good at dealing with that either. Eyes always got too big up close and most people had bad breath. Or maybe Alec was just sensitive, that could be totally possible as well. 

Still, considering all of these things it would have been better to take the main entrance that one day after school instead of taking the shortcut across the teacher’s parking lot. He should have tried to deal with his animosity against big crowds of loud students instead of provoking a rather awkward encounter with Magnus Bane.

The whole school knew the name despite him being barely present most of the school year. But every time he did show up, there was an uproar one way or the other. Alec was sure that the teachers had a picture of him hung up in the faculty room to throw darts at it. It was one of the biggest mysteries how Magnus had managed not to get expelled yet. Alec had also thought that he wasn’t at school this day. Turns out, he was there, just not inside, but outside kneeling next to one of the more expensive cars in the parking lot … and spraying paint on it. As Alec looked closer it was the word 'Ugly’ in a deep red color. Great.

The moment he turned around the last corner of the path that led to the parking lot, Alec froze. The hissing noise of the spray can filled his ears, fear crawle across his neck, bit deep into his heart. What should he do? Should he say something and risk being beaten up? Should he simply turn around, use the main entrance and pretend he hadn’t seen anything? Should he call a teacher? 

In the end Magnus made the choice for him. The hissing of the spray can stopped as he finished the 'Y’ and he got up from the ground next to the car. Then he turned around, his eyes finding Alec instantly. The lower half of Magnus’ face was covered with a mask to keep him from inhaling the toxic fumes. Alec appreciated that, though whatever teacher owned that car probably wouldn’t. Magnus pulled off the mask and left it dangling around his neck. Had his face been difficult to read before due to only his eyes being visible, was it now pretty clear that Magnus wasn’t amused.

“What are you doing here?”, he growled, careful not to yell and draw possible attention to him, even tough he looked like he really wanted to. “The main entrance is the other way.”

“Shortcut”, Alec managed to get out, too silent once again of course. Magnus’ eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and Alec braced himself for the other coming closer, staring him down, snarling probably, telling him to speak up and-
“Where the heck do you live that this”, Magnus waved at the other entrance/exit of the parking lot, “is a shortcut to the place?” 

Alec couldn’t blame him because in this direction there wasn’t much left until the fields around the city started, but currently he was too occupied with speechlessly staring at Magnus to be insulted by the incredulous tone. ’He heard me’, a little voice in the back of his mind whispered. That was new. Alec noticed that he was staring and he also noticed that Magnus was raising his eyebrows expectantly. Right, there had been a question. 

“Uh, ice cream”, Alec muttered, desperately willing his voice to keep at least its usual volume because as good as Magnus’ ears seemed to be Alec somehow doubted had the talent of lipreading … or mind reading. And if he got more quiet with every word at some point Magnus had to get closer to understand him and as long as he was farther away, it would be harder for him to punch Alec. Hadn’t there been something about that in physics? 

“Ice cream?”

Alec swallowed heavily. 'Maybe he forgets that I saw him spraying paint on the car if I can distract him long enough’, he hoped. “There’s a small supermarket back there that has very good ice cream.” Yes, his voice was shaking, his nerves were jingling. He really wanted to be somewhere else right now, but his feet were glued to the ground. 

“It’s the middle of February”, Magnus stated matter-of-factly. Alec bit his lower lip. He looked to the right and yes, okay, there was still brown slush sticking to some of another car’s tires. He knew which month it was, he wasn’t stupid after all, but he liked ice cream. Others started grilling when it got warmer and Alec had never gotten the concept of making a fire when it already was hot outside, but did he go around questioning people about that? No. 

“I know”, he muttered pouting a bit, “I still like ice cream … it’s not like I’m forcing you to get some, too.”

Footsteps got closer and Alec’s head whipped back around so fast he was at the danger of whiplash. Magnus was walking towards him and Alec was sure that it would happen now. They had ended the ice cream-discussion and the other had remembered why Alec had stopped instead of hurrying past the 'ugly’-car to get some damn ice cream. Would Magnus simply threaten him into staying quiet, would he get beaten? Usually Alec was too invisible at school to catch a hit, but he felt very visible at the moment. 

Nothing happened.

Magnus simply walked past him visibly amused as Alec frantically scrambled away. He headed for a bag that had been propped up against the low wall surrounding the parking lot, dumped the spray can into it and took out another color. Blue.

“I-I promise, I won’t say anything”, Alec hurried to promise. He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or insulted at Magnus half-hearted snort.
“As if I am scared of you running to the principle. He’ll know it was me anyway and by the time you get back with him or someone else, I’ll be gone already. So, I’d say 'Don’t bother’.”

Alec stared at the mischievous grin thrown his way. It was strangely alluring and he couldn’t quite explain why the already risen heat in his cheeks increased even more. Magnus’ grin widened. 

“What’s the matter, shy boy? You’ve been hoping for some action, maybe even some blackmailing material? Well, I hate to disappoint.” He didn’t look very heartbroken, but there was something else that struck a nerve inside Alec.
“I’m not shy”, he muttered frowning. What could he say? He had his priorities.
Magnus looked him up and down with the lazy curiousness of a cat and Alec wanted to hide in a hole, wanted to take back his words, wanted to have taken the damn main entrance earlier.

“Oh, really?” There was something about the way Magnus drew out the words … just something, something new to Alec. Good or bad? He wasn’t sure. How he managed the shaking nod in answer was beyond him. 

Alec didn’t like the word 'shy’ because it was used so often as a simple excuse, a way to sexualize honest fear or to cover up anxieties, make them sound less serious, make them sound like something else, something that wasn’t an issue to be worried about. 'Oh, don’t worry, she’s just shy.’ 'Come on, don’t be shy.’ 'No need to be shy.’ He didn’t like the word and had never wanted to carry it as a description for himself, end of story. So, he had begun to find other ways to describe himself. Unfortunately others didn’t really catch on to that. 

While Alec broodingly stared at the ground in front of him, Magnus really moved closer to him this time. Reluctantly Alec looked up eventually and was met with green eyes, that were surprisingly pleasant to look at even this close. He could see the colorful glitter in Magnus’ hair and the rings in his ear and the smile on his lips … wait, smile? 

Alec blinked, but the other student indeed smiled at him. Blood rushed into his head and Alec was sure that he looked rather unhealthy by now, his face had the have the color of a ripe pomegranate. A really ripe one. Almost spoiled. Then the smile turned into a smirk and Magnus tilted his head. Of course.
the sensation of a soft touch against he side of his throat startled Alec so bad, he would have almost jumped back a step. Magnus tapped a simple rhythm against Alec’s skin. Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap. Green eyes kept watching Alec as he tried really hard not to start squirming. His face was burning and Magnus’s eyes were actually quite pretty and - oh, eyeliner. Interesting. 

“You are shy, my friend”, Magnus whispered, “and cute.” And terrified Alec wanted to add, but then he noticed that that wasn’t the case anymore. Then there was that smile again, kind of warm and alarmingly harmless. 

“Want me, to tell you a secret, shy boy?” Yeah, Alec definitely didn’t like that nickname. Fingertips disappeared from his neck and instead patted his cheek softly. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Alec’s face cooled down a bit. “I don’t like that word.” He sighed.     

Magnus took away his hand and looked at Alec for a few heartbeats as if he was contemplating something. Then he nodded to himself, though Alec had not the slightest clue as to what he had decided. Of course Magnus didn’t explain himself. He just walked over to his bag, put the blue spray can back inside and then picked up the bag up from the ground. When he was back at Alec’s side the grabbed the other’s hand and dragged him of the parking lot. 

“What the-? Hey, where are you taking me?” A part of the fear from the beginning came back and Alec wondered if he’d now get murdered in the fields behind the school as he stumbled along after Magnus.

“I want to try that ice cream you were talking about.”

Alec would have almost fallen flat on his face. He didn’t because Magnus Bane securely held his hand.