There’s a low, paint-chipped door in the corner of Alexei Mashkov’s living
room in Providence.
His agent tells him that the door used to connect to the apartment next to his,
a long time ago, when the structure had been one. The door leads to nowhere
now, only a wall of bricks. Alexei has even seen the wall of bricks in person,
when he requested the landlord open the door for fun. He’s always been curious,
after all, and the old, rusted key that the agent picks out from the cabinets
only added to that curiosity.
“You’ll get yourself into trouble one day, Lyosha,” his grandmother used to
tell him. Alexei had been young, perhaps seven or eight, when she warned him.
“Don’t ask so many questions, and try to be happy, or the spirits will see, and take you.” She
had said, “Don’t go through strange doors, and don’t follow voices, especially
if they sing to you.”
“What’s so bad about singing?” Alexei had demanded, in a petulant way only a
seven-year-old can manage. “I sing.”
“Yes, love, but they sing to
confuse you,” his grandmother had responded. “They sing of a life better than
the one you have, so you want to come to them. You see? They want to trick you
and steal you away.”
Of course, Alexei had thought her warning had been metaphorical, if not
slightly cryptic. She’d been old then, and easily confused. If you take out the
spirits part, the rest sound more or less logical. He figured that she doesn’t
want him talking to strangers and end up kidnapped, so Alexei had merely nodded
and promised her. No going in strange doors, no following the singing voice, not that there’d been any in his life. Until now.
The bricks are nothing special: the seams filled with cement, the corners dusty
with cobwebs. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, but there’s a draft that only
Alexei can feel because when he mentions it to the agent, she only blinks in
“Why not lock it?” Alexei asks, when the agent pockets the old key and closes
the old, wooden door.
“Why should I?” the agent says, smiling. “The wall is bricked up. Not like
there’s anything that can come out. Now, let’s go to the kitchen. The structure
itself is a little old, almost 150 years, but it’s been recently remodeled.
It’s got a beautiful granite counter top—”
Alexei loves the house. But doesn’t know why he feels uneasy about the door. When he gets the keys to the house, he finds the rusted key again and locks the door.
A/N: Part 1 is all set-up. Idk hopefully y’all still like it? Maybe you don’t…idk. Bolded quotes are straight from the movie and not mine.
James fiddled with his watch as the guidance counselor, Ms. Umbridge, typed away at her computer. He wondered if he should say something; she had barely acknowledged his presence since he stepped into the room.
As if reading his mind, she gave a fake grin and a, “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”
James nodded as he glanced around her office. It was decorated with pink lace and far too many cat pictures. Hell, two cat photographs was too many in his opinion, let alone 20.
Langst prompt ☆The team gets hit by Haggars spell which makes them forget how to speak anything but first language (like Galras are smart and know many) so everyone except maybe Hunk and Lance don't know. Hunk stays quiet and withdrawn but Lance is trying to tell them. Nobody knows Spanish or Hawaiian(?) So they get angry thinking lance is just messing around
Thanks for asking, dear anon! I had some fun with this idea (lol I just realized it’s like 10 pages XD) And I hope you like it! I changed a few things, like making the team a bit angry with Hunk as well (since it makes no sense to me why they would only be angry at Lance), but other than that it’s pretty much the same. This happens after Shiro’s gone (and I didn’t make it clear who the Black paladin is so you can decide XD) I tried to make it nice but I’m not quite satisfied, but I hope you are!
It should have been an ordinary mission.
It was simple really, when you thought about it. Just get in, get the information Pidge needed, and get out. They didn’t expect for Haggar to appear, druids behind her, white hair crackling with what could only be described as ethereal magic as she snarled at the paladins. They didn’t expect to have a confrontation with her so soon.
But in the end, it seems like everyone made it out okay. Haggar had managed to blast them with some sort of spell, the druids cackling behind her as her eyes glowed in the darkness of her hood, but there seemed to be no lasting effects.
Well, none that Coran could find.
“Step out of the pod, please.” Coran asked, pulling up the finished log of data with one hand, the other smoothly pressing the ejection for the pod. Stumbling out, Lance took a moment to glance tiredly at the orange-haired Altean before resuming his earlier position by Hunk.
Pairing: Mamoru Kishi (KBTBB) x Reader Genre: Fluff + Smut Word Count: 3,775 Warnings: Mentions of impregnation kink, smut below the cut. PC Users: Add InteractiveFics as a Google Chrome Extension to replace ‘Y/N’ with your name for a more personalised reading experience.
“Daddy, why is your pee-pee so much bigger than mine?”
Mao’s little voice spilled out into the hallway as you walked past the bathroom. Y/N instantly stopped, an amused smile on her face as she wondered what her husband would possibly respond with.
“Because you’re only a little kid.” Mamoru’s voice came, chuckling lowly. “And I’m a grown man.” He answered simply. “Now keep still, gremlin, I don’t want to get shampoo in your eyes.” Mamoru instructed.
Rolling her eyes at her husband calling their son a ‘gremlin’, Y/N stepped towards the bathroom and ever so silently opened the door to peer inside.
Mamoru was sat in the bath facing Mao, gently rinsing bubbles out of the little boy’s ashen curls. Mao had his usually wide, charcoal eyes squeezed tightly shut and he clutched a yellow rubber ducky tightly in his small hands. Seeing Mamoru’s gentle smile as he ran his fingers through Mao’s hair, Y/N felt her heart grow warm in peaceful joy at the scene. She had never thought that Mamoru would have been cut out for fatherhood, with the laziness, the drinking and the smoking, but as soon as he found out they were expecting Mao? He was the most supporting, attentive and truly doting husband anyone could’ve wished for.
a/n: sorry for the lack of flower crowns // part 2 (x)
Marcus Flint is leaning up by the metal chainlink fence - gum popping, grin flashing white, and Oliver has the urge to run away because everything in the taller boy’s stature screams trouble, trouble, trouble.
“Fancy seeing you here, Wood. Didn’t take you as one to skip class.”
“I’m not.” Is Oliver’s automatic response. And he isn’t - yellow slip clutched tightly in his fist tells any wandering administrators that one of the teachers had sent him on an errand. He’d thought it’d be fine to take a shortcut, a little time in the sun instead of holed up in the academy, but his steps have led him unwittingly to the apparent hangout of Riverbrook Sacred Heart Academy’s resident delinquent.
Flint snorts, jaw still chomping vigorously. “Sports scholarship really keeping you in line, huh? Too straight-laced to even skip a lecture. Boring.”
Grey eyes scan him over, once, twice - Oliver fights off the color spreading across his body, attributes his sweaty palms to the spring heat, and the stiff collar of his uniform.
“What about you, Flint?”
Flint narrows his gaze, chin lifted. “What about me?”
“Playing bad boy but not a contraband in sight. Who are you fooling?” Oliver drawls, and he knows that he’s playing with something unstable right now, but life has been mundane, and he’s always been one for skirting danger.
Instead of lashing out, as Oliver expects, Marcus’ grin spreads, molasses-slow, and he straightens up, broad shoulders casting shadows on the hot pavement. Each step of his shoes - regulation style, but with sleek Italian soles and leather crafted more with money than skill - echoes as he moves forward to meet Oliver, eye to eye.
“Bad boy?” Flint’s voice is soft, almost playful. “So good little Catholic school boy Oliver Wood has a thing for bad boy’s huh?”
March 30, 2017 - Yellow-fronted Woodpecker (Melanerpes flavifrons)
These woodpeckers are found in southeast South America in parts of Brazil, Paraguay, and Argentina. Their diet is made up of fruits, berries, and seeds, along with insects and their larvae. They are generally seen in small groups foraging in trees. Cooperative breeders, up to two females and four males may care for a single nest. The nests are built in tree cavities, where females lay two eggs per clutch.
Summary: The world is split in two, there are the colorless,
and then there are the gifted, as in gifted with the sight of colors.
Apparently, once you find your soulmate, when you really accept him or her, or when you finally realize that it’s true love, the colorless are supposed to be able
to see color.
Member: Namjoon x reader
Word Count: 2,770
Author’s Note: Hey guys, so I’m a bit upset right now. I planned on having a new Between Worlds chapter out a couple of nights ago, and I was super sure that I put it in my queue, but nothing. It never uploaded and it’s nowhere to be found and I wrote the chapter on my brother’s laptop which he apparently deleted so now I’m stuck with absolutely nothing, I have to start chapter four COMPLETELY from scratch. I dunno, and I felt really bad and sad and just overall disappointed so I thought of making a short oneshot soulmate series for all the members, but please be patient because honestly, I have a hard time writing for other members, so I’ll be making them in order from who I have the hardest time writing about to the easiest
. huhuhu sorry, but I’m gonna work on maybe Jin’s or J-Hope’s after I get at least 4 pages done on my 40 page term paper in Labor Economics, LOL school first. BTW, has anyone ever noticed how blessed Namjoon was by puberty?
“Namjoon was just the new student assistant at the library, so why does he keep giving you books on flowers?”
You sat in class staring out the window watching the class
next door playing PE. They ran around as mud splashed their clothes disgusted
by the brown mess they were making. You looked at the girl sitting next you you
who sighed dreamily at your teacher.
You poked her shoulder, “Yah, are you actually
attracted to him?” You looked at the teacher who you admit was handsome,
he had platinum blonde hair, how he got away with it was beyond you, and he
looked a few years older than you, he just was not someone who was worth
getting in trouble over.
The girl next to you quickly regains her composure and
clears her throat, “he’s kind of nice isn’t he? He tells really funny
jokes.” She giggles probably remembering one of them.
And you think back on those jokes, and no, they really
weren’t funny, cheesy maybe or perfect for someone like your father. The sound
of the school bells catches your attention and has you jumping up to stand
before the teacher could even dismiss you. You grab your bag and start making
your way out the door, giving a playful salute to Mr. Kim on your way out.
“Thanks for that lesson on Julius Caesar Mr. Kim! I
guess you could say he wanted to rule over Rome TOGA-ther with Cleopatra!”
You heard the girl behind you make a joke that instantly brought Mr. Kim’s laugh;
something that may have sounded forced but was not, it really sounded like a
You took your time walking through the corridor, having to
wait after school for your mom to pick you up, turning corners you had
memorized from spending so many days there after school, and then you stop in
front of two large doors, the library.
You walk in without hesitation and a huge grin on your face
with squinted eyes, “Hey Mrs. Lee! I hope you don’t mind, not like you’ve
minded before but I’ll be staying here agai-” you settled your elbows on
the librarians table counter and put your head in your hands only to come face
to face with a blonde haired, blank faced boy who stared right back at you,
You stared at him, seeing the grey outline around his iris,
he was a colorless, you shake your head, “Sorry, uh, I thought it was just
Mrs. Lee today. I shouldn’t be any trouble; I only stay for an hour or two,
He blinks a few more times at you, simply looking away and
waving you off, “It’s fine, my name is Kim Namjoon, and before you ask, no
I’m not related to Mr. Kim, I just transferred here.”
You start walking away, “You’ll like it here.” You
find the familiar seat right next to the large Non-Fiction collection and you
grab a random book, getting started on the first chapter.
The atmosphere was slightly awkward, seeing as all Namjoon
did the first hour was stand around the librarian’s table, you looked around
and realized he still had a lot of books he needed to get sorted and if he
stayed there the whole time, he would stay here until night time.
“Hey.” You instantly catch his attention, “I
don’t know if you know this or not, but Mrs. Lee usually organizes the book
since almost nobody comes in here.”
“But what if someone comes in?”
You laugh out loud suddenly at his comment earning a
confused look from Namjoon, “I’m not being rude or anything, but I swear,
almost nobody ever comes here. And if anybody does, they’ll ring the little
bell on the table.” He looked at you unsure, “If you’re really that
worried, I could even help you and call you when somebody does come in.”
You give him a wink.
He doesn’t answer but simply walks away from the table,
pushing one of many book carts along with him. He doesn’t say much, but you
come to realize that he must not be too strict when you find him rapping along
to a song while organized the books, and that’s how the rest of the time is
spent; listening to Namjoon rap while pretending to read.
The days following that week, he wasn’t there, but come
Wednesday after that week, you come face to face with him once again. Except,
this time, he had a yellow book clutched tightly in his hand.
“Wow, alone once again. Mrs. Lee must trust you with her
precious books.” You laugh.
“Here.” He slides the book your way.
You stare at the book in confusion, “I wasn’t reading
“I know.” He steps away from the table and
continues on with organizing the books.
You slowly take your seat and look around finding he was too
far to see what you were doing, so you opened the book and found that it was a
book on Acacias, that and Namjoon had already stamped a return date on it, for
next Thursday. You tilted your head and swayed it from left to right, trying to
figure out what Namjoon was doing. So instead of reading like you had planned,
you spent the entire time watching Namjoon, while unknown to you, he smiled
slyly to himself. You realize that day that Namjoon was really tall. Two months
pass by with that routine of yours, Namjoon hands you a book he borrowed in
your name, and you sit around pretending to read while secretly watching him.
The following week, on Tuesday, you don’t forget the book he
borrowed in your name, you didn’t exactly read it, but you did keep it tucked
away in your backpack, not letting anyone see it or get it dirty.
You walk in the library straight to the librarian’s table
with the book tightly clutched in your arms. “Hi Namjoon, I wanted to ask
why you gave this to me- oh, another one? Okay.” You’re caught off guard
when he shoves another book in your arms after grabbing the yellow book he’d
given you from last week, today; you notice his dimples while he smiled at your
You looked down at the book; the cover was red with gold
lettering on the front, “A History on Tulips?” You looked at Namjoon
unsurely, “Let me guess, I’ll be returning it next week?”
The following week, Namjoon wasn’t there, instead, it was
Mrs. Lee, who greeted you with a dark red book with the word CARNATIONS on the
front, “He asked me to give you this, because he has tutoring today.”
She smiled kindly at you.
You smiled back and you turned, only to turn back around and
look at her, “Sorry, but do you know which room he’s in?”
She looked at you for a second and rummaged through her
table pulling out what looked like a post-it, she squinted as she tried to read
the messy handwriting, “I believe this says 227”
“Thanks Mrs. Lee!” You give her a wave and you
start running, scanning the room number you pass by on the second floor.
When you get to 227, you’re panting and your feet are
throbbing from running so much but that doesn’t stop you from scanning the
students sitting on the chairs, you furrow your eyebrows when you realize
Namjoon isn’t there, but instead, it’s filled with a bunch of fourth years, you
spot Yoongi dozing off and Hoseok sticking notes on Yoongi’s back. You take a
deep breath, realizing Namjoon’s probably just running late and hold the
doorknob, when you find the courage to open the door; everyone’s already
looking at you.
You bow quickly and state loudly, “I was hoping to get
some advanced lessons!”
The room is dead quiet but a single voice has you opening
your mouth like a fish, “Okay, just take whatever seat, the topic today is
Apparently, contrary to what you believed, Namjoon wasn’t
taking tutoring classes, he was giving them, and that’s how you found yourself
sitting in a three hour session staring at Kim Namjoon as he talked about what
he called laws of Thermodynamics. When the class was over, you got up
stretching only to be patted on the shoulder by Yoongi.
“Don’t get yourself into situations you can’t get yourself
out of kid.” He chuckled.
You instantly blushed at Yoongi, who was ever the observant
one, “So, what are you doing in a senior tutoring class?” You heard
the smile in his voice.
“I just- I was going to- I wanted to ask you about late
return fees because I might not be here to return these next week.” You
quickly make up an excuse, why did you come here?
“Well it’s the same fees that are posted up on the
front door; you must’ve seen it before right?” He laughed, “Is your
mom pocking you up again?”
You look up at him and shake your head completely at loss
“Great, let’s go, I’ll walk you home.” He grabbed
your bag and books, taking a second to look at the book he’d borrowed for you
with a smile.
The walk home wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t one filled with
conversation either. You stared at your bag, the one filled with books and the
one currently being carried by one Kim Namjoon.
“I can carry that, it’s kind of heav-”
“Exactly, it is heavy, so I mist imagine you’ve been
carrying it all day. I can do it.” He slapped your hand away lightly.
“I didn’t know you were a senior.” You looked up
at him, “I-I mean you have the height of one but seniors don’t really help
out at the library, since they have more things to worry about than overdue
He chuckled and stared at the ground, “I’m not.”
He looked over at you, “I’m a junior just like you.”
He kept staring which had you turning red and looking away,
“So why are you tutoring a bunch of seniors on thermodynamics?”
“And Trigonometry and basic Calculus.” He stated
in a matter of factly voice.
“I’m tutoring seniors in Thermodynamics, Trigonometry
and basic Calculus.” He corrected.
“Oh, you must be pretty smart then.” You try to make
small talk, “Your eyes. I mean, if it’s not a sensitive topic, you’re
He looks at you quietly and blinking his eyes, “It’s
not and I am.”
“How is it? I read a few books on it, but it’s probably
not as detailed coming from someone who’s actually explaining it.”
He started to walk slowly, “It’s kind of dull actually.
You wake up to grey and you go to sleep to grey and every time you see someone
you find yourself attracted to, it’s like you’re just wishing for color to
explode right before your eyes. But it doesn’t and that’s just soul wrenching.”
He looks at your worried face, “But I’ve come to find life has gotten
tremendously brighter lately.”
“This is my stop.” You smile at him, “Thanks
for walking me home.”
He scratches the back of his head, “Thanks for letting
me.” He lets out a nervous laugh and hands you your bag and books,
“Be sure to bring that on Monday next week.” He points at the book.
“Will do. Bye Namjoon.” You stare at his
retreating figure, which to your surprise, hasn’t turned back around to walk
the right way, he continues waving until he hits the mailbox and completely
topples over it quickly standing back up and running back from where you had
just come from.
You realize that day that Namjoon was practically a genius
and he was clumsy, but in a cute way, definitely cute.
Monday the following week rolls around but you find yourself
sick, so you lay in bed all day texting your classmates for the homework, they
said they’d bring it over, but it’s already past 7 and they’re lack of presence
has you doubting on whether they even remembered.
“Aren’t you just the handsomest thing!?” You hear
your mother’s shrill voice coo at an unknown person making you sit up.
“Honey! I’m opening the door!” She calls out and
all you do is cough in response.
You expected to find Changkyun, or maybe even Hanbin if she
called him handsome, but to your surprise, it was Namjoon, carrying all the
books he’d borrowed in your name the past few months and a stack of papers,
which was probably your homework.
“Hi.” You stared at him with wide eyes.
“I dropped by your class to pick up your homework since
I heard from Mr. Kim that you were out sick, and I even brought a few books for
you to read.” He said sheepishly.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Your mother squealed
at you two giving you a wink that had your face heating up despite the chills
you were currently experiencing.
“Thanks for the homework.” You laugh, “I
thought my classmates forgot about me.”
He settles on the chair near you study table after placing
the books near your bed, “I saw them on my way to see you so I just
insisted that I’d take it to you instead.” He fiddles with the rubics cube
on the desk.
“I already borrowed a bunch of these books.”
He quickly stands up and looks at the books, “Here. You
haven’t borrowed this one.” He hands you the deep red cover with the title,
“Roses, the flowers of love”
“Thanks.” You look at the books, “You know I
haven’t actually read any of these right?” You laugh.
“Yeah, so you better get started, they’re all due next
week.” He hands you another book, “Here, this might help you
understand why I’ve been giving you books.” You looked at the cover and
realize it’s a book on Flowers and their meaning.
You furrow your eyebrows but still smile shyly at him,
“Why do you borrow books for me? Especially since you know I don’t read
He slowly looks up at you, “Well I know you don’t read
them, but I at least expected you to skim them.” He laughs, “But you
didn’t so that’s why I came here with all these books.
He goes to the first one, and opens it up, "Yellow
Acacias mean concealed love.” He takes out a flattened yellow acacia,
handing it to you. You blindly take it staring at him in utter shock.
He takes the second book, the one on tulips and takes out
the tulip with the corresponding color, and so on with the rest.
“And finally.” He takes the book on roses and
opens it taking out the deep red rose flattened by the pages, “A red Rose
means passionate love. The most cliché and utterly cheesy flower that there
is.” He looks at your shocked face and laughs, “Here, go ahead that
take this.” He hands you the rose.
By this time, your hands were filled with a bouquet of
flattened flowers of all different colors and kind with only one meaning.
“H-h-how?” You find the voice the speak, but it’s
only a whimper of a question.
“When I saw you that day in the library when I first
started there, it was as if all this color exploded right before my eyes, and
then I realized, it was you.” You continued to stare dumbfounded at him,
“Your hair was a mess probably from running your hands over it so many
times, your eyes were bright as if you were somewhere far away in that library,
and even though most people would say you looked like a mess that day, to me
you looked absolutely beautiful, especially because your eyes glowed a little
brown instead of the usual black I saw and your lips were red from biting them
so much, and all that there was, was you.” He sat on the bed near your feet.
“I don’t know how I lasted so long without you.”
He whispered before he leaned in and kissed you.
Even though you could see all these colors, when he kissed
you, it’s like everything exploded all over, as if you finally understood
everything Namjoon had been telling you for weeks.
You rested you forehead on his and smiled, “I love you
“I’m pretty sure you can get a special student assistant extension
on these books’ due dates.” He joked.
Come the following week, you couldn’t exactly put your
classmates in their places when they started teasing you about Namjoon,
especially when he picked you up from class to take you to the library, all you
could do was take his hand and be led to the very room you first fell in love, you couldn’t exactly complain, and even if you could, you didn’t want to.
It was 11.37 p.m. when you last checked your phone. Time was moving oddly slow, now that the hype has died down and everyone seems to be sobered up slightly. You on the other hand, were on the brink of unconsciousness as you hastily chugged down your 5th glass of scotch for the night. You could vaguely hear the cheers coming from your friends around you when you threw your head back, relishing in the taste of the burning liquid. Your mind seemed to be in a blur and your vision was no better due to your terribly inebriated state.
“Way to go, Y/n! I knew you had it in you!” Hoseok cheered and pulled you into a hug.
“Screw you. I’m going to be struck with a hangover next morning!” Your voice was muffled as Hoseok brought his chest closer to yours, making the hug impossibly tight.
“I know but hey, you certainly had fun tonight! Am I right?” He wiggled his eyebrows as soon as he let go of you and you couldn’t help but to smile lazily at him.
“Yeah… I guess I did.” Your eyes were drooping slowly, a sign of fatigue, and Hoseok threatened to bite back his laugh. “Well then, cheers to that I say!”
The night finally ended for you and you were now seated in the back of a cab, on your way home. You weren’t lying when you admitted tonight was fun, it truly was. Life hadn’t been easy on you ever since your ex-boyfriend decided to end things, which led you to bite off more than you could chew. And judging from the looks you received back then, everybody and literally everybody could tell that the stress was eating you up gradually, albeit the smiles you’d shown. It wasn’t a pretty sight and Hoseok knew it most. He was your best friend after all.
Hoseok and you came from a long way back, back in your adolescent age more precisely. It was senior year which only meant finals were coming up soon. You were too stressed out to realize that all the color from your complexion had vanished, leaving a pallid canvas for the whole world to see. You needed a break and so one day, you had decided to visit the national library. Reading books were one way to keep your mind off of things but being surrounded by them took to a whole new level. For some reason, they had never failed for you to feel a tinge of nostalgia. Maybe it’s due to the sight of their broken spines of old age or the smell of rotting paper whenever you chose to read the prologue, whatever it was, it made you think back to the halcyon days of your ephemeral childhood.
You took a step inside and immediately made your way towards the liberal arts aisle, keeping in mind of the fact that you had to polish up on your grammar for finals. As soon as you’ve reached there, your eyes caught sight of someone.
He was standing by the end of the shelf, carefully flipping through the pages of a thick book and within closer inspection, you realized he was reading Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice, one of your favorite plays from him.
“Oh my god. You read Shakespeare too?” The words had left your mouth before you could take them back and you mentally slapped yourself. What are you doing? He’s a stranger for Heaven’s sake! You bit your bottom lip nervously as you watched him look up from his book.
“Yes, yes I actually do.” He flashed you a warm smile and your heart instantly fluttered. He was beautiful. A man with such a dazzling smile, one that couldn’t be looked away easily and eyes that twinkle so bright despite the dim lighting in the room. It was definitely cheesy for you to say this, but he radiated hope in a way.
Your cheeks burned in rouge as you helplessly flared your arms in the air. “I-I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was just curious.” You squeaked out the last part and his smile only widened even more.
“Well, you’re very lucky then. Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it? But in this case, curiosity made you a new friend. My name’s Hoseok.” He extended his hand out to you and you hesitated for a moment. As though Hoseok knew what you were thinking, he released a chuckle.
“I don’t scratch neither do I bite so it shouldn’t hurt for you to shake it, trust me.” He darted his eyes towards his palm, gesturing for you to take it. You giggled upon his little joke and shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you, I’m y/n.” You said.
“Y/n, I’ll definitely remember that name from now on.” Thus, the blossoming of a wonderful friendship.
You thanked the cab driver as soon as you got out and quickly dashed for your apartment. The night still felt young as it was only 1.20 a.m. now but you were beat and your body screamed for sleep. Your door flew open as you briskly walked in and made a beeline to the bathroom. Despite your body ached, your mind was racing with tons of thoughts. And all of them were the same. Will everything go back to normal tomorrow? Will I be able to have this much fun again? What if I’m swamped with more work than usual? What am I to do?! Imagining life based on daily schedules of conference meetings, due deadlines and overtime work was becoming a nightmare for you. You won’t be able to handle it, you knew that very much.
You sighed aloud as you slipped under the silky duvet, the sounds of quiet lulling you to fall into a deep slumber. And so, your soul traveled to dreamland, only to be awaken once morning was due again.
But something didn’t feel right.
It actually felt way too off.
Was it because you forgot to turn off the lights?
No, you remember you did.
Was it because you didn’t lock your door properly?
That can’t be, you immediately locked it as soon as you came in.
What is this feeling then?
I can hear loud breathing.
Could it be coming from me?
But I’m breathing perfectly normal here.
You instantly jolted up from the mattress and whipped your head towards the corner of your room. There, you couldn’t make anything out as the spot was enveloped in darkness. You kept staring, believing there was something or someone lurking around in the shadows.
To prove your suspicions, a pair of red eyes lit up suddenly and pierced their gaze on you. They flashed dangerously, signaling an ominous surge through the air.
Your breath hitched when you watched the orbs turn in color. They were red when you first saw them but now, they were bright yellow. You hastily clutched for the duvet and tightened your grasp on it. How am I not alone in this room?! Your mind shrieked in horror.
“You know, I can hear you pretty loud and clear from here.” A husky voice laughed softly and your eyes widened.
“But how-” Your sentence was cut off as the intruder finally revealed himself from the wall’s black cloak.
“The power to read minds, that’s how.” He simply answered and stood across from where you were, the bed acting as a divider.
You examined him from head to toe. He had a statuesque physique and was clad in a fitting black suit, paired with a matching tie. His hair, ebony and disheveled, shone beautifully under the blue moonlight while his features took your whole breath away. He had plump lips, ones that look too enticing for comfort. A pointed nose and an exceptionally sharp jawline, but what sealed the deal were his eyes. You couldn’t get enough of them. They were surreally gorgeous. You shivered under his strong gaze as you quickly stood. “What the hell are you?”
If looks could kill, his most probably would be the death of you. His gaze was threatening and his eyes were not doing any further justice for you as they grew brighter in color.
“What am I you ask?” You could make out the slight smirk he had on his lips as he said those words.
“Shall we find out together then? Because, even I’m not sure what my capabilities are since I’m here with you.” He chuckled darkly and slowly started to approach you until he was only a few inches away from your face.
“Let us not waste time, love.” His hot breath hits the shell of your ear and somehow you knew, you were bound to be in deep, deep trouble.
A/N: this whole story is written off of my own imagination. thus, no intent of plagiarism here. i just thought writing demon!taehyung would be fun to do plus it peaked my interest as i have a thing for supernatural beings. thanks for reading!
Not exactly a clone headcannon, but I'm working on a fic, and in it Ashoka finds out Cody and Rex are going to be 13 and never got "normal" kids stuff, so she goes out and gets them little custom stuffed tooka cats. Blue for Rex (with Jaig Eye marks, of course) and yellow/orange for cody.
-clutches my heart- this is too pure….. good job ahsoka
They had stolen a moment after the meeting. It wasn’t like White would care - she was too enamored with Pink to notice if Blue and Yellow snuck off somewhere. Hidden now in a secret alcove behind one of White’s massive tapestries, Yellow lay in Blue’s lap, Blue’s massive cloak draping over the two of them.
oh man, rereading that last drabble, I hope that that happened before Vivi finds them. Or else Arthurs clothes would be all bloodstained and thats no doubt upsetting to Vivi. (and mystery, but hes trying to be tough about everything)
I actually think it did, even though I was joking about her tickling him with his pants that low. But if you want the angst…?
• Alec Lightwood, right, but wearing a t a n k t o p. His arms completely free from sleeves. Just really out there. Getting tan during the summer and maybe (maybe!) his hair getting a little lighter at the tips.
• Clary Fray in a romper!! Specifically during the spring or summer when she has her hair up in a loose ponytail, brushing between her shoulder blades. Reds and pinks and yellow colors with sunglasses on her little button nose. Jace and Isabelle need CPR
• SPEAKING of Isabelle. A suit. Like a tux. Tailored to fit her exactly with her smirk cutting sharp against her cheek because she looks good and she knows it. Bright red lipstick. Leaving stains on all the wine glasses she drinks from at a party.
• And okay even Shadowhunters have to protect themselves from the rain so Jace?? Jace Whatever in a YELLOW RAINCOAT. Clutching his striped umbrella to stay dry. His hair a little messy from the humidity and when he looks up at the sky you can see his sharp jawline from miles away.
•Luke Garroway! Wearing! Plaid! Spending his weekends camping with the Frays with his red and black plaid and his big comfy hiking boots. Wearing the knitted friendship bracelets that little Clary made him around the campfire proudly on his wrists.
•You’re not ready for this one: Magnus Bane in pajamas. Sitting on his couch with leftover Chinese in his lap, loose pajama pants pooling around his legs as he stretches out and rubs his tired eyes, smearing makeup everywhere. His hair flops over his eyes as he dozes off after working all day.
•Simon Lewis gets cold really easily okay so look, he wears lots of sweaters. Bomber jackets!! Hats covering his messy curls! Scarves covering his face so that you can only see his little red nose and the light little freckles over his face.
She’s quiet, his love; she deals with grief by compartmentalizing and internalizing. She buries it deep, and the things that grow from it are such somber, subtle flowers that although anyone who meets her senses the heaviness, the gravity of her, he is sure that he alone can identify all the flora by root and vine.
I want to add another reason to my previous
post as to why Glorfindel’s death sucked. Because his death sucked. Like,
really sucked, and not just because he was that
close to surviving that duel. Because can we just recognize how thoroughly
Glorfindel killed that thing? I’ve heard/read posts and whatnot about this fight,
like when a new fan has a question about it, right? Some explain that
Glorfindel fought the Balrog and the Balrog fell off a cliff, taking Glorfindel
with him. That they both died from the fall when they hit the bottom of the
chasm. That Glorfindel drove the Balrog back to the edge of the cliff until it
fell, so it was fortunate they were fighting on top of crag and not a field or
something. That yes, Glorfindel was an epically skilled warrior, but that the
fall off the cliff is what killed the Balrog. But you know what, in Glorfindel’s
defense, I want to debunk that. Because that Balrog would have died regardless
if it fell or not. And because, mainly, it’s NOT TRUE. In short, that fiery demon
was royally screwed.
For one thing, in the dynamics of that particular fight,
Glorfindel was the instigator of that duel, not the Balrog:
“…that Balrog that
was with the rearward foe leapt with great might on certain lofty rocks that
stood into the path on the left side upon the lip of the chasm, and thence with
a leap of fury he was past Glorfindel’s men and among the women and the sick in
front, lashing with his whip of flame. Then Glorfindel leapt forward upon him
and his golden armour gleamed strangely in the moon, and he hewed at that demon
that it leapt again upon a great boulder and Glorfindel after.”
The Balrog didn’t confront Glorfindel. Glorfindel confronted it.
And not only that, but the Balrog was
actuallytrying to get away from him.
The aggression and fight that Glorfindel faced it with was intense and frightening
enough that he forced the Balrog to yield ground, forcing it up higher on the
“Now there was a
deadly combat upon that high rock above the folk; and these, pressed behind and
hindered ahead, were grown so close that well nigh all could see, yet it was
over ere Glorfindel’s men could leap to his side. The ardour of Glorfindel
drave that Balrog from point to point, and his mail fended him from its whip
So begins the infamous “deadly combat” of this duel on the
mountain peak. It was a fast fight as far as such things are measured and
everyone could see it as Glorfindel was giving it his all. And his skill and “ardor”
were as such that the Balrog was being driven wherever Glorfindel forced him to
move, no matter how much whip and claw and who knows what else he was being
(On a side note, could Tolkien have described a more cinematically
epic battle? There is a lot of delicious epicness in regards to battles/duels
fought in the Silmarillion, but in terms of how an epic showdown is often brought
to life on the big screen, I don’t think Tolkien could have gone more out than
what he did with Glorfindel; alone on top of a mountain peak, dueling with a
fiery monstrosity while everyone’s literally just looking up from below, watching
“Now had he beaten a
heavy swinge upon its iron helm, now hewn off the creature’s whip-arm at the
Not only do we have a head wound, but also an arm amputation,
one right after the other. What heathen roar did the Balrog unleash when
Glorfindel cut off its arm? Can the refugees of Gondolin who were watching
still hear the echoes of it?
“Then sprang the
Balrog in the torment of his pain and fear full at Glorfindel, who stabbed like
a dart of a snake; but he found only a shoulder, and was grappled, and they
swayed to a fall upon the crag-top.”
Okay, so at this point of losing its arm, the Balrog is actually
now terrified of this Elf, who
apparently could move so fast and deadly that it couldn’t compensate,
particularly after the loss of its infamous whip-arm. (Does a Balrog have
blood, by the way? Is there anything falling out of its arm? Dripping magma,
maybe? Unimportant.) Taking who is who into account, it’s clear that
it was Glorfindel who “found only a shoulder” and that he himself “was grappled”
in turn. So he manages to take hold of the Balrog again, despite that the demon
was springing away from him, and that while he had the Balrog’s shoulder, the
Balrog managed to seize him. That’s what “grapple” means, to seize
another or each other in a firm grip, like in wrestling where you engage in
So in this stage of the duel, Glorfindel somehow got the Balrog’s
shoulder, but it involved somehow seizing it. My theory is that he stabbed his
sword deep enough into (or through) the Balrog’s shoulder that the sword caught
there, twisting in his grip and causing the demon even more torment and that he
couldn’t wrestle the sword free while they “swayed” literally body to body in a
vicious wrestling match on top of the pinnacle. It’s plausible this was the case because it’s customary during any fight to stay outside of your enemy’s reach, and so when Glorfindel couldn’t pull his sword free from its shoulder, he found himself now wrestling with the Balrog that his caught sword now brought him in close quarters with. I say this because, as we see
in the next verse, his right hand and sword were no longer available.
And oh man, this next verse…talk about the final nail in the
left hand sought a dirk, and this he thrust up that it pierced the Balrog’s
belly nigh his own face (for that demon was double his stature); and it
shrieked, and fell backwards from the rock…”
Imagine that, if you will. A dirk is a long thrusting dagger,
and Glorfindel shoved this thing so far up the Balrog’s torso that it almost
went into his face. From belly to face. Considering that the Balrog was twice
the size of Glorfindel, that means Glorfindel most likely had to shove his arm
inside the beast in order to keep thrusting the dirk upward and into its head.
That Balrog didn’t trip over its feet and fall off the cliff.
Glorfindel didn’t shove it and just got lucky that the Balrog lost its balance
and fell off. That Balrog fell because it could no longer stand. It fell because
it could no longer fight. And it was dead before it hit the bottom of the
clutched Glorfindel’s yellow locks beneath his cap, and those twain fell into
And literally, with its last dying breath, the Balrog grabbed
Glorfindel’s hair as it was falling and took the Elf with him.
Tolkien writes right after that this was “a very grievous thing”
and I think I have to agree. Not only because Glorfindel was most dearly
beloved by all the people of Gondolin, but because Glorfindel should have
survived that duel. He should have lived. While I do wonder what injuries
Glorfindel did suffer, if he caught fire and how badly if so, he himself didn’t
actually undergo any serious wounds, apparently too fast on his feet for the
Balrog to land a fatal blow, and it was only because the demon grabbed his
golden hair with its last moments of life that he died. Did I mention his death
Good Valar, can you envision just what the people of Gondolin
saw when this duel went down? Were they rendered silent as they watched? And
you want to tell me that the Balrog died because it fell off the cliff? At this
point, it probably would have jumped off the cliff just to get away from Glorfindel.
That “shriek” the Balrog let loose when Glorfindel gutted him from navel to
nose? Tolkien called it “the death-cry of the Balrog”.
I think it’s a testament to the Balrog’s terrible might that it managed to still have the strength to grab hold of Glorfindel’s hair after that.
That Balrog didn’t die
because it fell: it fell because it died. And it died because Glorfindel
killed it. (What does a Balrog’s shriek sound like, by the way? Not its roar
or grumble, but a shriek.) Thanks to
Glorfindel, it got beaten on the head, lost its whip, lost its arm, lost the
use of its shoulder, and Glorfindel “hewed at that demon” so much that the
Balrog was actually running away from the Elf. Or tried to, rather, because
Glorfindel just kept on his tail, chasing him up the mountain, relentless, giving no quarter, lethal, and undeniably
an awesome sight to behold. And then, to top off the three critical wounds
Glorfindel dealt the demon, the Balrog was then literally gutted.
So to reiterate: that Balrog was DEAD. Deader than a doornail in
that duel with Glorfindel.
**texts from “The Fall of Gondolin” HoME II.194-5 **EDIT: here’s a link to a brief convo about the thrust of his dirk into the Balrog