#sorry dani i love you but unfortunately i choose to show my love by putting characters through pain and suffering. and then comfort!

[lady-of-the-spirit]

I love Ted Lasso fics where Jamie gets hurt or whumped and then the team comforts him, it's really sweet to read team as family fics where everyone protects each other when they need it.

Now what if Dani was the one getting hurt-

[tomakeitbeautifultolive]

Something I've been wondering about: If Jon comes back as a fire wight like Beric Dondarrion and unCat, will he be able to get it up? Blood won't really be flowing in his body anymore, so would his dick be powered by fire magic or something like that?

I, too, have spent a great deal of time pondering Jon Snow’s dick, Anon. 😏 Jokes aside, I will admit right off the bat that most of what I have to offer is total speculation, but over-thinking the most minor details of ASOIAF happens to be my favorite pastime, so let’s go!

Like pretty much everyone who read the quote, I was totally thrown off by the “fire wight” revelation. Here’s the quote for reference:

“..poor Beric Dondarrion, who was set up as the foreshadowing of all this, every time he’s a little less Beric. His memories are fading, he’s got all these scars, he’s becoming more and more physically hideous, because he’s not a living human being anymore. His heart isn’t beating, his blood isn’t flowing in his veins, he’s a wight, but a wight animated by fire instead of by ice.”

So, an important distinction to make here is that this quote is about Beric Dondarrion specifically, not Jon Snow.

The condition of Jon Snow’s corpse might matter

George can be very clever with how he words things. Note that he goes into Beric’s deaths, describing multiple resurrections and how he’s falling apart before stating that his heart is no longer beating. It could be that a fresh “fire wight” might still possess bodily functions—at least at first. Catelyn, too, was a very sorry looking corpse by the time she was reanimated, therefore not a great comparison, either. Especially since it’s Beric rather than Thoros who, with very little life force to lend, resurrects her.

If nothing else, Jon will be “fresh”, and his location at the Wall means the low temperatures will help preserve his body even if the resurrection takes some time. 

And speaking of the Wall… there happens to be a special lady there who could help Jon, and whose powers happen to be amplified by the magic of the Wall...

Melisandre is profoundly more powerful than Thoros of Myr

Thoros may be a red priest, but otherwise he seems to be a pretty normal human man. We get a clue about when he converted from Jaime:

“Jaime had once heard Thoros tell the king that he became a red priest because the robes hid the winestains so well.”

Relatively recently, one might guess, as most children aren’t yet drunks. Further, he was never very dedicated to his faith, even questioning it at times.

Melisandre, on the other hand...

“Melisandre had practiced her art for years beyond count, and she had paid the price. There was no one, even in her order, who had her skill at seeing the secrets half-revealed and half-concealed within the sacred flames.”

While we don’t know much about her, this confirms that she spent countless years studying her craft, and no one in her order can match her skill. And no one believes in their faith more than Melisandre. Like in the television series, it’s a safe bet that she’s actually much older than the natural human lifespan, particularly if she managed to lose count of how many years she’s studied magic.

If Melisandre is the one to resurrect Jon Snow, she might not use a ‘last kiss’ method at all, or, if she does, it could be more powerful than anything Thoros is capable of.

Unlike Beric, Jon Snow is probably the prophesied prince

Speaking of Melisandre’s ability to glimpse secrets in the flames… there’s someone she sure seems to see a lot of:

“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.”

“Skulls. A thousand skulls, and the bastard boy again. Jon Snow.”

“The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange.”

I know. There is some contention about who the Prince that was Promised is. Regardless of whether you agree that it’s Jon Snow, you’ve got to admit that Melisandre is seeing him in the flames for a reason. And if he’s not the prophesied prince, then perhaps his blood has something to do with it. It’s likely that, for some reason, the combination of Targaryen and Stark blood matters. At least, Rhaegar Targaryen seemed pretty convinced...

Whatever Jon Snow’s business is in Westeros… it’s unfinished. And part of that unfinished business might just involve becoming a father.

The emphasis put on Jon fathering a child is notable

Let’s go back to Jon’s first chapter ever. It opens with Jon at Robert’s feast, the author uses Jon’s eyes to describe the setting and multiple characters. And then enters Benjen Stark. This is when we really get to know Jon. When you read this passage, really consider the author’s intent here:

"You don't know what you're asking, Jon. The Night's Watch is a sworn brotherhood. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons. Our wife is duty. Our mistress is honor."

"A bastard can have honor too," Jon said. "I am ready to swear your oath."

"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

"I don't care about that!" Jon said hotly.

"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen said. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son."

Jon felt anger rise inside him. "I'm not your son!"

Benjen Stark stood up. "More's the pity." He put a hand on Jon's shoulder. "Come back to me after you've fathered a few bastards of your own, and we'll see how you feel."

Jon trembled. "I will never father a bastard," he said carefully. "Never!" He spat it out like venom.

Suddenly he realized that the table had fallen silent, and they were all looking at him. He felt the tears begin to well behind his eyes.

This is how George R.R. Martin chooses to introduce us to Jon Snow. And gods, that always hits me right in the gut. It’s absolutely supposed to. Jon’s trembling, venomous anger is palpable. You feel the deep hurt and resentment in his words, right down to his core. Jon says he doesn’t care—but the bite in his words and the tears welling in his eyes tell us otherwise.

Jon Snow easily embraces his vow of celibacy. At first. And then comes Ygritte. And after getting his first taste of love and later flirting with the idea of becoming a lord when it’s offered to him by Stannis, Jon Snow begins to imagine what it might be like to have a wife...

“I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall.”

And look what happens the moment he does dare to dream of it...

“I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.”

And the feeling transitions into an almost tangible hunger felt by his wolf, Ghost.

Speaking of Ghost…

Grab your tinfoil! ‘Cause Jon’s life might’ve already been ‘paid for’ ...By Daenerys

First… in case you didn’t know, Daenerys is probably a skinchanger:

“The slightest pressure with her legs, the lightest touch on the reins, and the filly responded. As she turned to ride back, a firepit loomed ahead, directly in her path. A daring she had never known filled Daenerys then, and she gave the filly her head.”

Basically, it goes like this:

As Daenerys wanders the Dothraki Sea in search of food after being whisked away by Drogon, she hears a wolf’s howl.

“Will (Ghost) howl for me when I'm dead, as Bran's wolf howled when he fell?”

Feeling lonely yet no less hungry, she eats some strange green berries. Her stomach begins to cramp.

“My flesh will feed the wolves and carrion crows, she thought sadly, and worms will burrow through my womb.”

Unfortunately, Daenerys then experiences some horrible diarrhea. Poor girl! I don’t bring it up to be crass, but because this purge bears striking resemblance to an earthly drug called Ayahuasca—a substance that, aside from emptying your bowels, is often used as a means to ‘open your third eye’ (Just as Bran does in the crypts, and he can finally reach Jon and Ghost…)

Dany falls asleep and begins experiencing trippy dreams about her brother—perhaps even achieving contact with the other side? Then...

“When she woke, gasping, her thighs were slick with blood.”

Assuming it’s nothing more than her period, Dany begins to wonder the last time she bled—hinting that it might’ve been a little while.

“The sight of so much red frightened her. Moon blood, it's only my moon blood, but she did not remember ever having such a heavy flow.”

Maybe a bit of a stretch, I know. But… this wretched and graphic scene of Dany’s loose bowels really made me wonder what in seven hells George was thinking. I was so embarrassed for Dany that I HAD to figure out why he’d do this to her.

And my best guess is that she’s using these latent skinchanging abilities to tap into this strange connection with the “blue rose” over at the Wall of Westeros and the silent wolf who finally howled for help upon his death… And so, Dany’s miscarriage may be the death that will pay for Jon’s life.

I might’ve found some more evidence to back this claim up, this is very new ‘evidence’, so bear with me:

“Fire”, in the world of ASOIAF, often translates to “life”. As is seen here in Sam’s speech following Aemon’s death (thanks, bridge4!):

“He was the blood of the dragon, but now his fire has gone out.”

Further, according to the wiki:

“When a follower of the Lord of Light dies, priests fill their mouths with fire and breathe flame into the deceased”

In the House of the Undying, Dany receives a series of chilling prophecies, one of which happens to be about fires:

“Three fires you must light, one for life, one for death and one to love”

I know, I know. Drogo’s pyre, the Khals, etc etc. But George might be playing with double meanings here… So, if we think of fires as conceptions, this could maybe mean:

One in exchange FOR the Dragon’s lives (Life)

One in exchange FOR Jon’s resurrection (Death)

One conceived (likely with Jon) and carried to term (TO love)

Food for thought! Especially considering that, like Jon, Dany possesses the blood of Old Valyria, and these sacrifices are probably all the more powerful as a result. But even if I’m dead wrong about that prophecy, well, fire still broadly means life, which bodes well for our brooding ‘bastard’, who might just end up as a “fire wight”.

Hopefully something in this drivel has given any Jon fans reading this a little bit of faith that, despite the slight setback of death, Jon will still be able to exercise his, uh, virility when he finally meets Dany. 😅 Thanks for the ask!!

[jaefluenza]

Puzzle Piece | Doyoung x Deaf!reader

“And somehow, you’ve become my everything.. my missing puzzle piece.”

Genre: fluff/angst

Pairing: Idol!Doyoung x Deaf!reader

Warning: sexual harassment, rape attempt.

puzzle piece by nct dream (ft. dreamies & 127)

The walk to your workplace is as peaceful as it usually been. You look at people strolling around the street with friends, laughing about nothing you know about. You wonder what are they laughing about. You also notice some people plugging a pair of wireless earphones. That must be the new design, huh. You thought. You wonder what it feels like to hear and talk. You’re always curious about music, tone, and voice. You wonder how do they sound and how does it feel to listen to them.

You always believe you’re meant to be deaf and mute. You had so much hardships in accepting your condition and with the help of your parents, you gained the confidence to accept yourself and have this mindset that being different is okay. Unfortunately, your parents died on a car accident when you were 17 years old. So you live with your grandmother. Your parents left you a small school for special needs to take care of where you teach sign language to deaf or mute kids. The principal is your father’s friend, someone that you think is odd. He always flirt with you, and sometimes he daringly touches you. You feel so uncomfortable working around him but you can’t leave the special school because you love the precious kids there.

When you get in the school, you greet the people who worked there as you walk towards the teacher’s room. After putting your things on the locker, someone approached you to tell you that the principal has requested for your presence at the office. You nod as you walk anxiously to the office.

You bow, “Good morning, sir. What can I help you?”

He smiled as he signals you to come closer. You obediently walk 2 steps forward.

“Good morning, beautiful. How are you today?”

You flinched before stepping backward from him. He was touching your cheeks and it disgusts you so much.

“What can I help you sir?” You emphasized.

“Alright. Alright. Today, our school received a special donation from the idol group called NCT 127. They will come and try interacting with the kids, and you’re gonna accompany them in the class.”

You tilt your head confusingly. You want to ask more but you hate being in the same room with the principal so you casually bow and head out. On the way back to the classroom, you notice your fellow teacher and tap her shoulder.

“Do you know what’s an idol group? The principal told me they’re coming here for charity.”

Dani smiled at you as she motions back, “They’re a group of singer. I’ve seen them, they’re so handsome. Daebak!”

Ah, boys. You thought. You start to wonder if they know how to communicate with sign language.

You went back to the classroom to greet your students. Oh, how much you love them, the pure souls who needs a lot of attention and affection. You love taking care of them, it reminds you about how your parents used to give you lots of love.

“Hey, everyone!” You greet the students as they smile at you innocently.

“Today, a group of singers is coming to our school, and they’re gonna interact with you guys. Are you guys happy to meet them?”

They nod excitedly as you smile back at them. While waiting for the mentioned boy group to come, you started the class, unaware that what’s gonna happen next will change your life forever.

The boys sit quietly in their van on the way to the school, until Taeyong starts a conversation awkwardly. “Is there any of you familiar with sign language?”

They all shake their heads in unison. “Well, do we have a translator or something?” Mark asked.

Yuta nods along, “Right, it might be quite hard to communicate with the kids.”

“Well, we didn’t hire any professional interpreter because they promised us they will help you all to communicate in the class. They said they have a common teacher there,” The manager explained.

“It’ll be alright. I’ve learned some basic sign language last night.” Doyoung claims proudly.

“I really can’t wait to meet the kids.”

After being informed that the visitor has arrived, you immediately told the kids that they’ll be seeing the group. They excitedly abandon their crayons and papers. You smiled before noticing Dani in front of the class. You told the kids to behave well and leave to open the door. Amazed by their amount, you bow to greet them.

Dani smiled at you before presenting you to the boys. “This is Y/n, our sign language teacher and the homeroom teacher of this class. She will help you communicate with the kids and I will interpret your conversation.”

Taeyong nods excitedly, “Thank you, so much. We’d like to learn sign language as well.”

You invite them to enter the class. The boys start waving at the excited kids.

“Woah, they’re so cute.” Mark said.

The kids wave at them cutely, smiling at the good looking boys.

“So, they are a group of singers who will learn with you today. Please welcome them!”

The kids start welcoming the boys in sign language. Dani interpret them, makes the boys smile widely.

“Hi, we are NCT 127! Nice to meet you, kids!”

The kids clap in sign language, and the boys start imitating their clap.

After class ended, the boys will have lunch with the kids. You were so amazed with how they were enthusiastic to communicate with the kids. They were learning so fast as well. You were about to go with Dani when a staff told you to go to the principal’s office. It feels weird, he never called you twice in a day like this. But you just go as you were told.

“Excuse me, sir. What can I help you?” You greet politely.

“Come here, why are you standing from afar like that?” He engages.

You step closer timidly, feeling weird with everything.

He immediately holds your hand tightly, making you flinch in shock.

You tried to scream but nothing came out. You use your entire strength to get out of his grasp, but of course he would be ten times stronger than you. You helplessly pray that anyone would help you as he dragged you to the corner of the room.

You begged him with your eyes, but he won’t listen. You tried to hit something around you to make a big sound, but then he slap your face.

Doyoung was just outside the toilet when he heard a big sound. He walks towards the sound curiously as he heard whimpers and small cries. He realized something is wrong when it comes from the principal’s office. He peeks through the keyhole and he gasped.

He saw you being laid down on a small table in the corner of the room. He didn’t think twice before knocking the door harshly. He hopes the maniac will stop his action but instead, “I’m not welcoming any guest right now.”

Doyoung curses loudly. He opened the unlocked door angrily. “Mr. Principal.” He called. You feel relieved when the psycho let go of your hand and push you out of his way. 

The principal moves around awkwardly at the presence of Doyoung. “Uh, What can I help you?” You know he can’t snap at him from bursting into the room because he’s one of the donators for their school. Doyoung said nothing. Instead, he walks towards you who’s crying soundlessly on the floor, feeling traumatized. He helps you standing up, fixing your outfit gently. He holds your hand tightly, leading the way to the door. “I am the witness of this sexual assault. I have the evidence. You will get arrested for this.”

You let yourself get dragged to the back side of the school. Doyoung pulls you closer to his body, soothing your worst mental state. He says nothing as he let you sob on his shirt. Still caressing your back, he sighs heavily. He wants to say only good things to do, but he’s not confident in his sign language skills. Still hugging you tightly, he takes his phone out of his pocket.

He typed something on his phone, before tapping your shoulder gently to show you what he typed. You wipe your tears before looking on the screen,

“Hey, everything’s going to be okay. I’m here for you, and I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. Cheer up, okay? :)”

You smiled at his words. You nod and smile weakly. You type back, “What’s your name?”

He excitedly types back, “Kim Doyoung. You can call me Doey, I’m basically a rabbit.”

You remember his name, Kim Doyoung, your hero.

After the incident with the principal and Doyoung, the school was investigated by the police as Doyoung has promised. The principal is arrested and now you became the new principal and the school’s rightful owner.

You texted Doyoung to express your gratefulness and you promised to treat him some food in your favorite restaurant. He happily accepted.

So, today on Thursday, you set an appointment with him in your favorite grilling place. You nervously check your appearance while waiting for him to arrive. A minute later, someone taps your shoulder gently. You turned around only to see a man with a mask and hat. You tilt your head confusingly. But then, he opens his mask a little bit and wave. You smiled as you waved back at him. He sits in front of you and puts his phone on the table, indicating you to read what’s on the screen.

“Hi, I’m Doyoung. I’m sorry, but I have to wear a mask and hat. I can’t be spotted by anyone, it could be dangerous for you.”

You nod at him, smiling at how he still looks so good despite the things covering him. You signal him to choose the menu. He immediately ordered something before shifting around in his seats. You signal him with a simple “What’s wrong?”

He cleared his throat nervously, before signaling you to focus on him. You did what he told you.

“Is this a date?” He signs. 

You let out a silent gasp before smiling widely. You take your little notebook from your bag before writing the answer for him.

“If you see it as a date, then it’s a date! ^^”

He laughs and you smile ear-to-ear even though you can only imagine what would his voice be like. 

At Saturday, Doyoung asked you to go to a small pet cafe owned by his aunt. When you peek by the window, your eyes sparkle in amusement upon seeing what’s happening inside. Doyoung and probably his aunt sitting on the bench, his aunt teaching him words in sign language.

(from inside)

Doyoung’s aunt instructed, “This is how you greet her. Instead of just waving, this means hi, how is your day? And this means did you eat?” Doyoung smiled before he clapped in delight. He knew his aunt could help him to learn sign language so that he would be able to communicate with you. His aunt was a voluntary teacher for kids with disabilities.

“Woah, cool. Oh, it’s her!” Doyoung’s eyes lit up when he saw you entering the pet cafe, wearing a beautiful white sundress with a fluffy bright outer. You waved at him, and as soon as his aunt moves forward to hug you, you feel so happy inside that someone besides your co-worker at school can communicate to you.

Doyoung immediately take his learning into practice as he stands beside his aunt to greet you.

“Hi, how’s your day?” He signed.

You replied happily, “My day is fine.”

You played with the dogs and even though Doyoung is still learning, nothing can stop you from having fun with him. You took dozens of pictures with him and the pets. You really feel like it was the happiest day you have. Not only your students listen to you without any chaos, but also you spend the rest of the day with your favorite person after your parents. Yes, Doyoung has become an important guy in your heart.

After the play, you bit your goodbye to his aunt and promise her to come again someday. He also bid his goodbye and walks away with you.

When he reach the block where he’s supposed to go left, he taps your arm to tell you something.

“Do you want to go to a concert with me?” He looks like he prepared himself to tell you that.

You tilt your head in confusion, why would he take you to a concert when you can’t even hear or feel the music.

He scanned your expression before coming to a realization that you might feel offended. He hurriedly take out his phone to write something. You wait patiently as he writes down what he would like to say.

“Don’t misunderstand. I have something to tell you at the concert. I’m working hard to learn sign language, so I can translate the songs to you. I’ll dance while interpreting ;)”

You smiled and nod. “I’ll come with you.”

A smile appears on his face as he understands what you told him. After bidding your farewell to him, you walk away from him, heading back home.

A month later, you go to the concert as you promised him. You were so scared to be judged or alienated. You look around your surroundings. There are so many girls holding a green block stick. You look up at every banner put up around the concert hall. NCT Dream? Why do they have the same first name as Doyoung’s group. I should’ve googled them first, you thought.

You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. It’s a text from Doyoung.

“Come to the 6b hall.” He wrote.

You immediately come to the hall he told you. You smile as soon as you found him near the big door, waving at you. You run towards him and hug him tightly, as if telling him that it was so scary to be surrounded by a lot of strangers.

He hugs you back, caressing your back. He took your hand before dragging you to the vip lounge. You stare at the big glass reflecting the huge concert venue. You looked at the stage in awe before asking him, “do you usually perform on that big stage?”

He nods, “Yeah, I performed here last year.”

As the concert begins, you remember their names after Doyoung showed you everything about NCT Dream. You acknowledge that these boys are Doyoung’s precious little brothers. It makes you excited to even just seeing them dance under the shining lights.

You can say that you enjoy the concert, with Doyoung beside you on the vip seats. Around you, there are no screaming girls with their merchandise but only Doyoung’s managers and bodyguards. As the boys finished their fifth song, you clap along with the audiences. You look at Doyoung, thanking him for interpreting the beautiful songs for you. On the sixth song, the lights around the stage are strangely turned off and the stage went dark.

You look at Doyoung, asking what is happening. But he’s only smiling, instead, taking your hands before he signs, “I have something to tell you. I will interpret this special song named Puzzle Piece.” He makes both of you stand as the lights now spotting on both of you. You furrowed your eyebrow, feeling anxious that everyone’s attention is now on you and him.

“What’s happening?” You ask him who is now standing in front of you. Before he gets to answer your concerned question, the lights around the stage were turned back on. The spotlight on both of you and the stage are connecting into an unexpected performance for everyone in the auditorium.

“As the suffocating world

I’m heading to is getting bigger

It makes me feel an emptiness somehow

What part would I take forward

and also what shape would be like

Even when myself can’t come to know it”

You glance back at the boys as they sing their heart out, sitting altogether on the stage beautifully, and then back to Doyoung.

“As if solving up the scattered pieces

We are matching up our stories

Inside the empty spot in my heart, there’s

a piece called you taking place”

You never know that there’s a man who can be this beautiful and that man right here is now confessing through your own language.

“I just know it first

At the moment I looked into your eyes”

You stare at him as he dances the language in a beautiful manner.

“You’re my missing puzzle piece,

Finally I solved it

You filled every piece of my heart without fail

You complete it all

And somehow you’ve become my everything

My missing puzzle piece”

You looked at the huge screens around the venue when you and Doyoung was on two of the screens. Your teary eyes make their ways to Doyoung, feeling touched by his efforts to confess his feelings to you, especially in front of the fans. You couldn’t hear everything around you, but you can feel the claps and hollers when Doyoung kneels in front of you. He stares into your eyes deeply before moving his hand gently to sign.

“Will you be my puzzle piece?”

Your eyes sparkled with tears before nodding softly. Doyoung stands up quickly and hug you in front of the huge crowds that are now watching the both of you, not the singing boys on the stage. After the song ended, the dreamies scream happily, cheering for their older brother. “Please give supports to both of them, everyone.” Renjun ended.

After the show ended, Doyoung leads you by holding your hand tightly in his to the backstage. He introduced you to the boys and they welcome you with warm greetings.

You smile ears to ears at their cuteness, while paying attention to them introducing themselves with sign language. Jisung and Chenle were so confident with their sign language, adding several information that they learned a lot to communicate to you. You really appreciate their efforts just to talk to a nobody like you. You clap for them, trying to tell them that they did a wonderful job on the stage.

“Noona, please come visit our dorm someday and teach us more!” Jisung signs with a little clumsy movement. You laugh and nod at him excitedly.

Doyoung glares playfully at the younger boy, “Why should she come to your dorm? She’s mine. You can’t have her like that.”

Haechan scoffs, “Hyung, how can you forget that we’re the one who made you two happened?”

While the other laugh and smirk, Doyoung sighs in defeat, “Haechan and his friends are scary.” As you laugh at him and the boys.

Jaefluenza masterlist

[thiswasinevitableid]

This Bites (Indruck)

The prompt for the 24th was: Midnight Ball. This one is NSFW, and a vampire AU, so there are mentions of blood (but nothing graphic).

Technically the ball begins at nine in the evening. Midnight is the highpoint, the turnover from October 30th to the most revered day of the year. 

Indrid and the other residents of Sylvain Manor have spent the day preparing, decorating the halls and ballroom while removing inconvenient items such as mirrors (he’s grown used to not seeing himself in them, but he wishes to offer his guests the courtesy of not giving themselves away).

By nine thirty, the band is playing lively waltzes as couples spin across the floor and friends laugh in small clusters, sipping wine and tasting the various delights Barclay prepared. The cook is nowhere to be seen, but Indrid knows he’s snuck off to his quarters with a certain human, the werewolf unwilling to wait until midnight for his kiss. 

His friend's starry-eyed love is the only reason he will ever permit a monster hunter anywhere on his grounds. Indrid is not a violent man by any means, but he will do whatever is needed to keep himself and the others in his care safe. 

A downside to this approach is that he is warier of some of the townsfolk than he otherwise would be, and they in turn see little of him and think him aloof. Which is why he’s lurking in the corner at his own party. 

An absurd, charming laugh catches his ear, and when he locates the source he’s certain his long-stopped heart restarts.

The man is dressed in a deep brown suit, cut to accentuate muscular arms and pleasingly strong looking thighs. He must be one of the local farmers, or perhaps a tradesman, as his shoulders and slightly weathered face point to work outside and his bearing lacks the self-satisfaction of a member of the aristocracy. He’s talking with Dani and her human girlfriend, Aubrey, smiling a little crooked when Aubrey tells a joke. Then another dance begins, and the two women excuse themselves to the main floor. 

Indrid waits to see if someone else will approach him, not wanting to interfere if the man is here with a partner or a friend. But the man simply sips his wine and steps back into the corner out of the way of the widening crowd of dancers. Indrid inches along the banquet table, terrified of being presumptuous. Then the man adjusts his tie, no doubt from the heat of the large fire in the fireplace, showing a delicious stripe of neck. 

A quick check of the future indicates his approach will be well-received, and he’s at the man’s side in four quick strides. 

“May I have this waltz?”

“Uh” The stranger looks behind himself, then back at Indrid, “sure. Can’t promise I’ll be much good.”

“I am not known for my grace either, so we will make a fine pair. Shall I lead?”

“Only if you promise not to crash me into anyone.”

“I will do my best.”  Indrid places a gloved hand on his hip, enjoys the warmth seeping through when their fingers link.

After two bars of the song, he says over the music, “since an introduction seems only proper, my name is Indrid. What is yours?”

“Duck.”

He grins; hearing that name was just as charming in the moment as it was in his head. 

“It’s a nickname.” Duck steadies him with the  hand on his shoulder as Indrid nearly collides them with another couple, “there, uh, there a reason you asked me to dance?”

Indrid cocks his head, “I wanted to. Cliche though it may be, I spotted you from the across the room and wished to know you better.”

“Oh” red blooms across his cheeks and he looks down, which causes them both to elbow an unfortunate passerby, “fuck, sorry. I, uh, well, just didn’t come here tonight thinkin anyone would be that interested in dancin’.”

“Not even the person who invited you?”

“Aubrey’s awful busy, wouldn’t you say?” He nods towards the two women trading kisses as they dance. 

“Ah, of course. Well, I am certainly glad she brought you.” He hopes his smile comes across dazzling rather than predatory, a fine line he trips over more often than he’d like.

Duck meets his eyes, studies him a beat, then grins right back “Seems to me there’s plenty of arm-candy here already.”

“Yes, but I suspect you are far more than a handsome face.”

That laugh again, making Indrid melt like the candles, “Jesus, you get right to it don’t you?”

“Oh, ah, apologies, I did not mean to be too blunt.”

“I don’t mind, darlin. Like I said, just wasn’t expecting itoof, sorry.” Duck sends a chagrined glance at the man whose foot he just stepped on. 

“Would you like to continue talking somewhere less, ah, perilous for us and everyone else?”

“Lead the way.”

Indrid chooses the gardens as their destination, annoyed when more and more clouds cover the moon, obscuring his view of the plants and--more importantly--of Duck.

“Damn, this is impressive stuff out here. Some of this is real tricky to grow.”

“Really? I must admit my own knowledge of gardening is limited to appreciating its results.”

Duck trails his hand up the trunk of what Indrid is mostly-sure is an Oak tree, “Takes all kinds of things to make a healthy garden. Healthy forest too. Too much light, too little water, the wrong place to try and take root, those kinds of things can make it hard for a plant to grow, same as a human.”

“I take it you have an affinity for helping one of those two categories grow.”

“Try to help both when I can. Love takin care of the forest, but Kepler’s my home; I wanna keep it safe, wanna see it grow rather than crumble away.” He moves to another tree, admiring it, and Indrid follows him through the grove, listening as he talks about the plants, about the town, about his work as an arborist. Duck makes him laugh, draws him into an involved conversation about the merits of different orchards and the manners of cats compared to ravens. 

“You been in Kepler long?” They’re shoulder to shoulder now, strolling through the last, stubborn roses of the year. 

“For a time. I wandered around quite a bit before arriving here. I had a run of, ah, of bad luck. Or maybe it was inevitable that I found my way here.”

“Eh, fate and shit ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Bitterness edges around his words, “and some folks give it more credit than it deserves.”

Indrid, futures and timelines churning in his mind, finds this statement perplexing and inspiring in equal measure.

“Fate being what it may, I think we ought to return inside”  He points to the mounting clouds, “I’m certain we are about to be rained on.”

Duck sniffs the air, “Smells like it. Wouldn’t mind all that much except this is the only suit I own.”

“Can’t have such a lovely thing getting ruined.” Indrid purrs, taking Duck’s offered arm. 

They make it to the top of the front stairs just as rain patters on the cobblestones, and two younger vampires vacate their seats by the fire the moment they notice Indrid eyeing them. Someone brings them drinks as they talk, Indrid too focused on Duck to notice who it was or what they gave him until he sips and discovers wine, which he does not like. Well, if nothing else, holding it will give him some way to occupy his hand and keep it from creeping up Duck’s thigh. 

With the exception of occasional glances at the clock or around the room, Duck’s attention is on him the entire time. As the hands of time move closer to midnight, the conversation turns to Indrid’s hobbies and his fondness for art. 

“I draw as well, for pleasure and, ah professional reasons.”

“You got any specialties?”

“A few. Would you like to see them?”

“Hell yeah.” 

It’s a short trip up the stairs, Duck keeping their arms linked until they reach the door of his study, having to separate so Indrid can unlock it. As they enter, Duck spots the commission he’s been working on.

“You do portraits?”

“Indeed.” Indrid looks over his shoulder, “are you offering to model for me, Duck?”

“Depends on the kind of modelin.” Duck grins before turning to shut the door.

Picking up his sketchbook, there’s a click of a lock. Goodness, here he thought he’d need to use the rain as an excuse for why Duck would surely need to stay the night in his bed. 

He’s debating the two sketchbooks, prouder of the plant ones but needing to be sure there are no disaster sketches in the mix, when Duck grips his upper arms, spinning them face to face.

“Indrid, look, we ain’t got much time. We gotta get out of here.”

“I...I do not understand.”

“Look, I don’t know who invited you, but this party ain’t what it seems. And, uh, I ain’t exactly either. This is a fuckin vampire ball.”

“And you are a…?” He’s certain Duck is not vampiric, but why would he tell him if he was human-

Oh no. 

“I’m here on a mission, it’s a long story, but I’m a vampire hunter.”

Oh no

Indrid looks at the future, something he ought to have done much sooner, and steps out of striking range. 

“I’m supposed to take down the vamp who runs this place, but I ain’t been able to spot him, which means he might know I’m here. I’m gonna make a break for town, and I want you to come with me. Indrid I, I can’t stand the idea of you bein where Baron Cold can get you.”

“I” he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, “I appreciate your concern Duck. But I promise you I’m in no danger from the baron. After all, I have no intention of harming myself.”

-----------------------------------------

See, this is why he kept telling Minerva he wasn’t cut out for this. Because not only has he been romancing a vampire all night without knowing, he’s been flirting with the guy he’s supposed to kill.

Indrid must have worn a glamour  to disguise himself the last time he was seen in town. Duck’s been working from the wrong description this entire time.

“You gotta be fuckin kiddin me.”

“I wish I was.” Indrid’s lips twitch into a frown, “just as I wish you were joking about coming into my home to hurt me.”

“It’s gotta be done.” Duck says more to himself than to the vampire.

“No, it really doesn’t. For goodness sake, two minutes ago you didn’t want me to get hurt!”

“Yeah, because you probably put me under a fuckin thrall or some shit!”

“I did no such thing. Believe me, if you were under my thrall, you would know.” Indrid says flatly, only to hiss when Duck removes a stake from his trick pocket. 

“It, it don’t matter. Because I ain’t under now.”

“Duck, you don’t want to do this.”

He doesn’t dare answer, in case the truth comes out. But before he can move, Indrid slides his glasses down his nose, revealing red eyes. 

“You will not move.”

His muscles lock up, his feet turn to lead, and he gets bitter confirmation that how he felt about Indrid all night came from nowhere but himself. 

“As I said, my thrall is very obvious.” Indrid plucks the stake from his hand, tossing it into the fire. Pats down his sides, roots through his pockets and the tops of his boots, muttering all the while.

“Foolish...distracted...should have known....rude human.” He punctuates the last words by hurling Duck’s sword (disguised as his belt) out the window. 

“Hey, I ain’t the one bitin folks.”

Indrid whirls, snarling, “I have not nonconsensually taken anyone’s blood in years.”

“And you were gonna do what once you got me up here?” Duck manages to cross his arms. 

“Show you my drawings! I thought you wanted to see them.” The vampire has the audacity to look hurt.

“I did.” The truth darts out before he can stop it, and so he covers with more annoyance, “But I don’t buy that was really all?”

“Fine, if you must know, I was going to suggest that you spend the night on account of the weather, and perhaps you would like to do so in my bed.”

Yeah, okay, he was definitely  going to bite him. 

“Just” Indrid hugs himself, “just go. I will let the thrall down, and not alert anyone to your presence.”

His body comes under his control once again.

A half-second before Duck moves, Indrid says, “Don’t you dare.”

Duck’s already committed to his attack, figuring he can at least subdue Indrid and get him into town. He doesn’t get the chance. Indrid grabs him and spins him with significant strength, slamming him into the bookcase. He can’t get his right arm free as it’s twisted behind his back,  and the left is pinned, splayed out beneath Indrid’s gloved fingers. Apparently all the Chosen strength in the world can’t help him against a pissed-off vampire. 

“That.” Indrid growls in his ear, “was not polite.”

“Would you knock it off with all that manners bullshit and just get it over with?” He mumbles into the hardcovers.

“Get what over with?”

“The thing you brought me up here for.” He turns his head, glaring at the vampire who, for his part, looks confused. Then he grins, bringing his mouth dangerously close to Ducks neck. 

Cold, but very lively, lips connect with his, Indrid humming when Duck tips his head to deepen the kiss. 

The vampire pulls back to nuzzle his cheek, “That was what I hoped for from you. But since you seem rather, ah, fixated on the biting..”

“AH!”

A chuckle vibrates up his neck as Indrid latches onto it, and Duck clenches his teeth, terrified that if he speaks, he’ll ask for more. 

When Indrid releases the skin, the hunter stares at the bruise. 

“There, there ain't any holes.”

“I told you” Indrid lazily kisses his face, “I only do that with permission.” He gazes at Duck over the rims of his glasses, “is that something you wish to give me?” The hands lift from his wrists, the weight from his back, “or do you wish to depart?”

“I want” he rests his forehead against the books, “I want to, uh, to, know what it’s like. If you, uh, if you want toFUCK, ohgodohfuckAHhnnnn.” His whole body tenses when the fangs sink into the base of his neck, and for a moment he’s worried he’ll pass out in Indrid’s arms. 

Then the steel in his spine melts, pleasure rushing in to replace it, dripping into every vein. His fingers flex and curl helplessly, Indrids hands too busy forcing Ducks chin up and clinging to his waist to hold them. 

He’s never been this turned on in his goddamn life, and wishes he’d learned this about himself any other time but now, with anyone other than a vampire who has three hunters guilds, one assassin network, and two governors hungry for his head. 

Memories bubble up beneath that wish; Indrid in the hours prior, laughing and smiling when Duck told stories or bad jokes. How at ease he felt walking in the gardens with him, as if there was nowhere else he was meant to be. The look on his face when Duck agreed to dance 

He moans, squirming in Indrid’s hold, knowing he’s lost and unable to care that he has. 

The vampire isn’t faring much better, groaning into the bite, the hand on Ducks shirt gripping tighter and tighter. When Duck gasps at a burst of pain the groans and growls turn to a purr, the teeth retracting from his skin and replaced by soft licks and gentle kisses. 

“Is, is it always like that.”

“No. It is neutral to pleasant in most cases.”

“So what the, the fuck was that?”

“At a wild guess, you are discovering some new and interesting things about yourself.” Indrid grins like a fox that’s just been given free reign of a henhouse, “would you like to learn more? Or would you like to go?”

“More, fuck, Indrid please I, I’m-” he’s not certain what he’s trying to say, only that he wants Indrid to understand how badly he wants this. 

Indrid kneels, sets a hand on the small of his back, “Stay.”

The vampire makes quick work of his suspenders and pants, yanking them down to his ankles. Black gloves land near his left toe just as cold fingers caress the back of his thighs. 

“Mmmmmm, has anyone told you these” he squeezes, rubbing his thumb into the inner part of his thighs, “are downright sinful?”

“N-not for awhile.”

“A shame.” Indrid nips the left side of his ass, snickering when he swears. His right hand slips between Duck’s legs, rubbing his dick once before teasing up and down his folds.

“My, my, that is flattering. A handsome hunter, wet just for me.”

“Indrid, I swear, if you don’t stop teasin I'm gonna get my cross from wherever you tossed it.”

“I don’t think you are” Indrid rubs more roughly, neither touching his dick or sliding inside, “I think you are going to stay right here and let me sample this” he slaps Duck’s ass lightly, “for as long as I like.”

Duck giggles, “sample? It ain’t a whiskeyEEh, fuck, oh fuck me.” He thunks his head into his forearm as Indrid scatters bite marks across the sensitive skin. He’s not taking blood with them, seems content to watch the purple and red bruises as they bloom. 

Three fingers push up into him and he yelps, surprised.

“You did ask me to fuck you.” Indrid’s tone is level even as the slick sound of his fingers fucking him fill up the room. 

“It, it was, AHHnnn, a figure of, of speech, you, you fuckin-”

“Choose your words carefully, my sweet.”

“--unfairly good lookin, menace of a vampire.”

He’s spun fast enough to get dizzy, still trapped against the shelves by Indrid’s hands on his hips.

“I’ll show you a menace.” Is all he says before closing his lips around Duck’s dick, fingers still curving and thrusting inside him.

“You, y-you, fuck, and I got real different definitions of menaceOhhhhhh yeah, fuck yes, Indrid, that’s so good,” He cuts off into whimper when Indrid’s head dips down to bite his inner thigh. Threading his fingers into silvery hair gets him another bite and a moan of approval, Indrid continuing to rove his mouth between his dick and his thighs, sounding all the while like he’s enjoying a gourmet meal. 

“Sh-shit, Indrid, I’m close, keep doin that, pleaseplease” just as the orgasm starts building, Indrid pulls away, sitting on his heels with his hands in his lap.

“Is somethin wrong?”

The vampire stands, hands caressing Duck’s hips, cock hard beneath his dress pants,“There are rules, sweet one. Humans who break into my home to kill me do not get to cum.”

Duck whines, only to have Indrid shush him like he’s a fussing dog before kissing him.

“I, however, do get to cum” He undoes his fly, “using whatever method I see fit.”

There’s a tremendous ripping noise as he grabs Duck’s left thigh, pulling it up to hook precariously around his hip, as Duck’s still-booted foot tears out the cuff of his pants. 

“And you, dearest hunter, are the method I prefer.”

With that, he shoves his cock into him, dropping his head to kiss his neck as a Duck moans without caring who hears him. 

“Goodness, it’s been so long since I had my way with a human, I, I forgot how warm it is.”

“Warm you up whenever you want darlin. Fuck, fuck” He tries to hold his own weight but it’s getting harder, as all he wants to do is go limp and let Indrid take whatever he wants. His head is swimming with the slap of connecting skin and the protests of the bookcase, with Indrid’s moans as the vampire noses his neck. 

“Ah, this will do nicely.”

That same moment of complete tension, his body reacting to the teeth piercing his skin. He tightens around Indrid, weakly bucks his hips in search of release as the vampire switches to furious, sharp thrusts, releasing Duck’s neck with a messy gasp. 

“Nmmm, I hate to stop, but I hate even more for you to grow weak and faint. After all, I need you awake until I am finished.” He presses Ducks thigh up, the angle borderline painful, as his hips stutter. Duck’s nails dig into the wooden shelf as Indrid’s words sink deeper and deeper into his core. He moans at the thought of letting the vampire fuck and feed from him until he passes out, of being helpless in a bed somewhere, his world starting and ending with-

“Indrid” he whimpers as the vampire cums, slamming all the way in and grinding with high gasps as he finishes in him. 

Slowly, his foot finds the ground and Indrid holds him closer, both of them panting. Duck wraps his arms around his waist, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of his jacket. 

“You really ain’t lettin me cum?”

“I believe my rules were quite clear.”

He sighs happily, the denial somehow just as pleasant to his mind as the completion would be. Indrid smiles as he presses a kiss to his temple, laughs softly when Duck gives one to his shoulder in response. He feels so safe here, Indrid draped around him, that reality’s return is akin to a knife in the gut.

“What happens now?”

“Well” Indrid pets Ducks hair, “as of this moment, there are two futures; you depart, are scolded by your fellow hunters and assassins, and return next week with the same goal that brought you here tonight. Or, you prove just as stubborn as you were earlier tonight, and come back to me tomorrow evening, heedless of your mission.”

“Seems to me there’s one of those you'd like me to do.”

Indrid steps back, still holding him but able to more easily meet his eyes, “There is one I would prefer, yes. But ultimately it is not up to me to tell you which path to take. Your destiny is yours to decide, even if you decide something that does not work in my favor.”

This is too heavy a conversation to get into with his pants down. Not when he’s not sure what the right thing for his town, his friends, himself is. Not when Indrid is still so close, smile blood-tinted but so tender Duck wants to tuck it away and keep it safe.

He knows what he wants, just not what he should do.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll think about it.”

Indrid nods,guides him in for one final kiss, soft and sweet as a sunrise, “That is all I ask.”

-----------------------------------------

He watches Duck from the bedroom window, his figure growing fainter the further he gets down the road.

Then the human turns, pausing long enough for Indrid to realize he sees him. Not knowing what else to do, he waves.

Even from this distance, his night vision lets him catch the flash of that smile. The hunter blows him a kiss, which he pretends to catch.

And the futures of Duck coming back to him tomorrow night jump another twenty percent.

[jonismitchell]

TELEVISION SHOWS I SAW IN 2020: (inspired by @bhmay, sorry for kidnapping your idea) — how i met your mother: listen, i think this is very solidly funny and it was able to keep me watching for nine seasons. the finale was quite obviously a nightmare and the misogyny is a bit much... but neil patrick harris. i’m here for neil patrick harris. (7/10) — the good place (s4): the series finale was one of the most well-written episodes in television, and you can quote me on that. it made me cry and gave every character their due. i loved the last season and how well it resolved the primary conflicts of the series (9/10) — brooklyn nine nine (s7): there was quite a bit of, uh, questionable content in this season? i still watched it, i still liked it, but i can’t help but feel like the writers are losing their touch a bit. the halloween heist + the jimmy jabs part two were... not as well done as they could’ve been for such good setups. (8/10) — one day at a time (s4): full disclosure, i’ve still got to watch a few episodes from this season. i’m super angry about one plot they’re choosing to take with penelope, but i’m extremely happy with the direction this show is headed for the most part. rita moreno is a national treasure (8.5/10) — sex education: my repressed christian self was not prepared for this! i was not! i liked a good majority of the characters (especially maeve) but i was frequently uncomfortable and had certain bones to pick with the plot. pro tip: do not watch on the subway. (7/10) — new girl: another comedy that kept me invested for a great many seasons, and i really enjoyed it. an absolute source of comfort and laughter. it was very good and i liked it a lot. wish there had been more resolution for winston and his partner at the end, but i guess you can’t have everything. (8/10) — the politician (s2): not as good as season one, unfortunately. which is a shame, because actual politics and the absence of river might’ve made a really strong impression. gwyneth paltrow was SO good in this. (8/10) — never have i ever: the most weirdly addicting show in the history of the world. i’m really glad it got picked up for a second season because i enjoyed the first so much. i also wanted to scream and shake some of the characters, so there’s that. (8.5/10) — fleabag: actually, i really liked this. it was a lot of crude fun, but it was really well done and i thought a lot of the plot was very smart and intricate. binged both seasons very quickly and was left with a strange feeling of loss. (9/10) — dickinson: the sapphic representation i deserve. but also, the way the writers treated emily dickinson’s life made me so angry. the way the whole story was dumbed down and modernized made me... upset! a mostly good premiere and finale, some great outfits, but i want to sue whoever approved this. (5/10) — normal people: we have already established that i am a prude, but i loved this. it was an excellent adaptation of the novel and visually stunning. both the main actors were excellent in their roles and it was well done on the whole. made me reread the book and be Upset. (9/10) —  the haunting of bly manor: i am a complete and utter coward but i loved this immensely. the camera work? the attention to individual plot lines? the way each episode feels so distinct and yet obviously the same story? and of course, this is the show that brought me dani clayton, so it has to get a good score. (10/10) — superstore: this is such a good show, it’s really funny and does a lot with its environment. i wish they had put more thought into developing the romances because there was a lot of material to work with! also, i love jonah simms and he deserves better. (8.5/10) — the queen’s gambit: basically perfect television. it was so well made: all the costumes and sets are beautiful and meaningful. anya taylor-joy is absolutely amazing as beth harmon, she brings so much to the role. i liked how they adapted the book and changed certain aspects to make it work even better. i adored the fact that all the positions on the chess boards were actually possible. amazing. (10/10) — russian doll: this will be updated once i’m finished with the show, but i am loving it so much. nadia is such a captivating and interesting heroine, i absolutely adore her. the premise seemed tired to me previously, but the engaging way it’s handled here is completely wonderful. props to netflix. (9/10)

[fallinfor-youreyes]

Catch Me Off My Guard

Dani forgets her lipstick, and ends up learning something new about Malcolm. Post 1x05. Ao3

She forgets her lipstick at his house.

Dani’s not sure how she does it, but she assumes it something to do with sleeping on the counter and dealing with a highly drugged Malcom Bright.

And honestly, if it were any other lipstick, she would have already forgotten about it. But it’s not any other lipstick. It’s her favorite lipstick. Her favorite lipstick that is no longer sold anywhere, that she had bought as many as she could when she heard it was being retired. It was the last tube of her favorite lipstick, and she had been an idiot and decided to wear it out that night because she hadn’t been out in ages. Even if it was for work, and a very stupid idea in the first place.

She had looked literally everywhere else for it, but she remembered seeing it in her bag on the subway to Bright’s, which meant she probably lost it as his place.

Which is why she was here, standing outside his building on a freezing Saturday morning, because she couldn’t bring herself to text him about it, and apparently just showing up at his apartment made more sense in her mind.

If she hadn’t already rang his doorbell, she would already be walking back home. But she had, so she was here, hands stuffed in her pockets, hoping he was actually home so he could let her inside before she got frostbite.

“Hello?” His voice crackles out of the speaker just as she’s about to turn around, and her stomach plummets to the floor. She should have never left her apartment today.

“Bright, it’s Dani.”

“Oh! Hey, come on up!”

The door buzzes, and then she’s inside the blissfully warm hallway, and Malcolm’s head pops out from the top of the stairs, and this is a bad idea, she thinks. They are work friends, people who see each other in the office and sometimes at home when he needs someone to take him there, but it’s a Saturday, and this has nothing to do with work.

She should have just texted him.

“Hi!” His hair flops into his eyes, but he’s smiling at her like nobody’s business, and a weird feeling settles in her chest.

“Hey,” She says, making her way up the steps, taking in how the hall looks different in the early morning sunlight. The colors are different, and she can see the pictures on the wall, and then way too soon she’s turning the corner and almost running straight into him where he’s waiting for her at the door.

Saturday morning Malcolm is different from any other Malcolm she’s met before. His hair is soft and falling in his face, not arranged in the way she’s used to it.

He’s also wearing sweatpants. And a faded Harvard sweatshirt, and it's almost too much for her to handle.

She shrugs off her jacket and he takes it from her before she can hang it up herself, so she busies herself with unzipping her boots so she can leave them at the door, not wanting to track the gross half-snow-half-mud slush through his apartment.

“I don’t mean to barge in, but I think I forgot something here the time I was over.”

“What did you forget?”

She pauses to say hi to Sunshine before making her way inside. “My lipsti-“

Dani freezes, her eyes falling onto Malcolm standing in the middle of the room. His entire kitchen is covered in pastries. Desserts of all sorts sprinkle every available counter, and the oven timer is slowly counting down to whatever is next.

“Lipstick?” He asks, casually as he’s pulling on a pair of oven mitts, like the scene in front of her in completely normal.

“Yeah.” Dani stops at the edge of the counter and tries to count the amount of different food in front of her but she can’t. She’s pretty sure there’s more dessert than weapons on his weapons wall, and it’s making her question everything she’s ever know about Malcom Bright. “Wait, sorry, I didn’t know you baked.”

“Oh,” his cheeks flush pink, and Dani likes the sight of that way too much. “Yeah, I’m what some people might call a stress baker.” He offers her a plate of cookies, and she’s so confused that she takes one.

“I thought you couldn’t eat most foods.”

“Can’t.”

“Then what-“

“Edrissa like brownies,” he says, pointing to the corner full of brownies and cookies. “Ains likes fruit pies and tarts, Gil loves breads, J.T. like donuts, my mom likes cupcakes, and I occasionally can get through a whole slice of crumble.” He opens the oven and glances inside, frowning at whatever is still baking. “Everything else ends up in the break room at work.”

“So you’re the reason the break room has been incredibly popular the last few weeks?”

He shrugs as he closes the over door, pulling out one of the fanciest toothpick holders she’s ever seen.“What about you? I haven’t figured out your favorite dessert yet.”

Dani settles herself into the chair she unfortunately slept in a few weeks ago, right in front of an apple crumble. “I’m known to like a bunch of different things.”

“Good to know.” He flashes her a smile and then moves to wrapping up one of the pies with tin foil. “So, you were saying you lost your lipstick?”

“Yes!” She pushes herself off the chair, because she is not supposed to be getting comfortable here. “I have looked everywhere else for it, and this is the only place I can think I left it.”

“It might be in the bathroom cabin-“ the timer goes off and he glances between her and the oven and his ridiculous fancy tooth picks, and she can tell he’s going to choose the currently unknown pastry, so she nods, and starts making her to the bathroom.

“I’m not sure though. My mother sends her cleaner over here because she doesn’t think I can take care of myself and most of the time, I end up not knowing where anything is.”

Dani opens the cabinet, and it’s surprisingly bare, considering the rest of his bathroom is a full of things. Surprisingly bare, except for a perfectly sized tube of lipstick. Her lipstick. A sigh of relief falls from her mouth, and its a little ridiculous how happy she is have found it, but she has her lipstick and now she can stop feeling weird about coming over to Malcolm’s apartment on a random Saturday morning.

“Found it!” she says, when she comes back into the kitchen, and she’s about to go and get her boots and be out of his hair when she sees he’s placed a cup of tea in on the counter for her. He’s resting on the other side, his own cup of tea and plate of still steaming lemon bars cooling in the space between them.

And she knows she should leave. She got what she came for, and staying would that turn this trip into something else. But she’s curious. She has questions. She puts the lipstick in her pocket and drops herself into the world’s most uncomfortable sleeping chair, and grabs a lemon bar.

“So, where did you learn how to bake?”

“Technically, my mother.”

Dani can’t stop her face being surprised, and he laughs at that, and it makes that stupid dumb feeling in her chest grow a bit more.

“See, you’ve met my mother.” He takes a sip of his tea and plates her a bar. “She would never cook or do anything when we kids. Or now, for that matter. We always had staff for that. But on Christmas, she would always make this apple crumble, and Ainsley and I would sit in the kitchen with her. It was the only time she would ever talk about her family.” Malcolm shrugs and cuts piece of his bar. “And then when everything happened with my dad, she would start making them all the time. It became the only time I didn’t feel like the world was falling apart around us.”

He pauses for a moment, the weight of his words just hanging between them, and Dani doesn’t know what to do say. “Bright I-“

“But mother only cooked crumble, and only for a few months, so then I started sitting in with our cook when she would bake. And then whenever I was over at Gil’s house, I would ask Jackie to teach me everything. So I have a rather rounded baking education.”

“Crumble’s your comfort food?”

Malcolm blinks. “Hmm?”

“You’re comfort food. When you were high you wanted to make crumble. And I made you grilled cheese, because that’s my comfort food.” Dani tucks her hair behind her ears and grabs a bit of the lemon bar. “My mom would make us grilled cheese whenever we had a bad day, and it’s like the only meal I can make without fucking up.”

“From what I remember, it was a pretty fantastic grilled cheese.”

She stuffs the lemon bar in her mouth to shut herself up, but it’s a mistake. She wasn’t really expected anything much, but she can’t help the moan that escapes from mouth.

Malcolm laughs into his tea, and Dani can only nod and try to not stuff the rest of the dessert in her mouth.

“That’s not fair. How can you be so good at this?”

Malcolm’s smile grows. “I’ve been stressed since I was 8 years old. Lot’s of practice.”

Dani grabs another bite so she doesn’t have to say anything right away. There’s a lot about Malcolm Bright that she doesn’t know yet. And there’s a lot about her that he doesn’t know. But she does know that this conversation could be about a lot more than baking, but she needs to know if she’s prepared for that.

They are sort of friends. She remembers his face when he asked her if they were really friends, and how it fell when she said no, because she’s not good at friends. She’s not good at the trusting people and letting people in, and she has zero filter which gets on people’s nerves, and she’s been through a lot. A lot that can scare people away and a lot that has, so she guards herself.

But he looked so crushed when she said they weren’t friends. And against all odds, she likes him. He’s one of the few people she’s met who has been through even more than her, who knows what it’s like to scare people away. They haven’t know each other for long, but for some reason, she knows she trusts him. Which is pretty big for her.

“You know, if you ever need someone to talk to about whatever’s stressing you out, I’m always down for a lemon bar. Or a blueberry muffin,” she grabs her cup of tea, the scent of earl grey greeting her as she pulls it closer. “Or just a cup of tea, with a friend.”

Malcolm ducks his head and tries to hide his smile, but he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. His face is an open book of possibilities. That’s something she knows about him. She wouldn’t mind getting to know more.

“Thanks, Dani. And speaking of thanks, I want to take you out to dinner, to properly say thank you for taken care of me. Twice now,” he says.

She stuffs another piece of lemon bar in her mouth instead of answering.

Dinner outside of sharing a hotdog on stake out is more than just coworker things. Dinner on a Saturday is so much more than just coworker things.

A part of her feels like it could even be a more than friends thing. That part of her also kind of likes the idea of it being a more than friends thing.

“It’s not even 11:30 yet,” she says, because it’s the first rational thing that comes to her mind. She should have waiting for the first smart thing to come to her mind.

Malcolm nods, like what she said was an actual response, folding his hands together so he can place his head on them.

“What about brunch then? I know a great coffee place that has one of the most impressive tea walls I have ever seen.”

She should say no. She should have left as soon as she had her lipstick, but she’s still here, sitting at his counter on a freezing cold Saturday morning.

“You don’t have to take me out to thank me,” she says, trying one last time.

Malcolm’s face brightens. “But I want too.”

And it shouldn’t, it really shouldn’t, but it makes her heart jump in her chest. It make her cheeks heat up, and she tries to squash the smile from erupting on her face, but all it does it make her entire face scrunch up like she’s some 16 year old with a crush on a boy who just told he he thought she was pretty.

But maybe that’s what she is. A 25 year old with a crush on a boy who she trusts more than she should. A boy that smiles at her and has even less of a filter than she does, a boy who is currently watching her like whatever she says next going to determine the fate of the universe.

“Okay, I could be down for some more tea.”

“Great!” Malcolm’s up in the next instant, and then he’s holding out her jacket for her once she’s finished zipping up her boots, and when she turns, he’s close to her. As close as they where when he was high and wanted to dance with her.

Close enough that she can feel his breath wash over her skin he breathes out.

Close enough, that the part of her brain that she’s allowing to have a crush on him is now thinking about kissing him.

But she doesn’t. She’s not good at friends, and she’s definitely not very good at relationships, and the last thing she wants to do is mess up whatever fragile thing they have between them right now.

She she takes a step back. Tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. Turns to the mirror in the hall while Malcom pulls on his jacket, and grabs her lipstick from her pocket before smoothing it over her lips.

“It’s a good lipstick,” Malcolm says, as he finishes zippering his coat. Dani raises an eyebrow at him as he pulls on his gloves. “I understand why you came back for it.” He offers her his elbow, and it’s so very upper class New York of him that the only she can do is roll her eyes and take his arm.

When she gets into work on Monday, there’s a blueberry muffin sitting on her desk.

And if a warm feeling settles in her chest at the sight of it, then that’s her problem to worry about later.

Right now, she has a muffin to eat.

[malyen0retsev]

hi! as someone who IS a daenerys fan, can i ask why you haven't thought she would end up on the iron throne (both in the books and the show)? because i know your answer won't be 'because i don't like her' - i'd be interested to hear your thoughts!

It boils down to two things, fundamentally, and this will be a long reply (I’m not sorry haha) - those two things are What Targaryen rule represents and The Long Night. Both of these are important as to why I hold this view, and they’re sort of intertwined (to an extent tbh). So, I’ll attempt to break these hella complicated things down! Btw - the show endgame? The way they did that? Bullshit bullshit. That will not be how it goes down in the books.

Daenerys is not her father. We know this, and anyone with an ounce of sense knows this from both the books and the show. She is tough, she is fierce, but she is also kind hearted, caring, very loving (and in the books she shows this a lot! She is always hugging and physically touching those she cares about to reassure them. She shows this love and care in every single way she can). She is not her brother (be it Viserys or Rhaegar, because yeah, Rhaegar was better than Viserys, but he was also… relatively shady, to say the least). She is good. In TWOW we will see her go through a dark arc, but she’ll come through the other side of it. I cannot reiterate enough she is good. She is not the sort of person who would ever torch a city ‘just because’. That isn’t Dany. 

However. Whilst we the audience know and understand that Dany is good, you have to zoom out for bigger context here. In a story where politics is incredibly important, and the great Houses are incredibly important, simply saying ‘someone is good’ isn’t… enough. Daenerys is, for all her goodness, kindness, and lack of similarity to her father, still a Targaryen. Targaryen rule in recent years, still in the very near memory for the Westerosi represents tyranny. It represents War. It represents a Northern girl who was abducted (yes Lyanna may have loved Rhaegar but her age makes it very iffy about her say in it), it represents her father and brother who rode south and were burnt and strangled to death, it represents the great Houses banding together to overthrow Targaryen rule. It cannot be stated enough how much the show simplified Robert’s rebellion. Lyanna’s abduction was sort of the cherry on top of the cake for tipping Westeros into open rebellion against the Targaryens. There was discontent, and hatred, stirring for years. Lyanna was the final thing that tipped it over. 

Add in the fact that in the books, it is highly highly likely that f!Aegon will have got there first, and he will be (to all intents and purposes to the people) a Targaryen, and a Targaryen who will likely bloody blow up King’s Landing… Daenerys represents a continuation of that sort of rule. The common people are already fairly ‘eugh’ towards Targaryen rule, and when she comes in after f!Aegon, that ‘eugh’ will have turned to palpable dislike. She is different. Yes. She is not a tyrant. But because she is a Targaryen, she still represents the tyranny of Targaryen rule. She represents a going backwards, not forwards. 

There is a reason the North, for example, is boiling over at this point in the books in a complex plot to overthrow the Boltons and bring back the Starks. Their loyalty was to Ned Stark and he is gone. But under the Starks, the North has known kindness, compassion, and good rule. To the North, that is what the Stark name represents. They may have no personal affiliation to House Stark, but the name means something. And unfortunately, in Daenerys’ situation, her name means something too. It just doesn’t mean a good thing. 

Let’s try and flip this into a modern day context that most of us on here could agree with - look at the USA, and the Republican Party. Most of us on here would agree with ‘ABSOLUTE TRASHBAGS’. Now, say a new leader of the Republican Party came along, and was genuinely a good, kind person. Someone who embodied Lincoln, a President most people think was a good President. Would you be sceptical and still not want them? It’s highly likely, yes. Because at the end of the day, what the Republican Party stands for will always hit harder than what an individual stands for. So, to go back to Daenerys - she is good. She is kind. She personally represents a new age. But because she is a Targaryen, who are intrinsically tied to a past age, and not only that, but a tyrannical age, she physically cannot represent that to Westeros. Yes, my analysis may be off here, but that’s how I see it.

As for The Long Night. 

I have long believed Dany would die in the Battle against the Dead. You see it in the House of the Undying, where she turns away from the throne to go North, beyond the Wall. And there, she meets Rhaego and Drogo again. Why the hell the show threw away all this symbolism I do not bloody know. To me, Dany’s arc has never actually been about Targaryen restoration - yes, for the massive paragraphs written above, but also because I have personally always read Dany’s arc as much much closer tied to that of slavery.

Dany has been sold as a slave. She was sold to Khal Drogo, and raped, and was essentially a slave. Yes, she was lucky in the sense she did fall in love with him, and as far as Khals go, Drogo was very very different to other Khals - but that doesn’t remove the fundamental point that she was sold as a slave. This personal knowledge of what it is to be sold, and bought, and treated like an animal, is what drives Daenerys into the abolition of slavery in Slaver’s Bay. She has personal experience of it. She doesn’t want anyone else to go through what she has had to go through. She is good, she is kind, she knows what she stands for, and what she stands for is anti-slavery. 

Look at the Army of the Dead. In its most basic form, the Others are effectively slaves. They are the dead, brought back against their will, and enslaved into this massive army against their will. All agency is removed from them, and they are tied to this ‘life’ of killing and darkness by their slaver - the White Walkers. They represent everything Daenerys stands against. She will fight against them, not simply to ensure Jon supports her, but because that is who she is. And they represent what she wants to remove from the world. 

I also think, unfortunately, the Nissa Nissa prophecy of Jon piercing Lightbringer through Dany’s heart will come true in the books - but I cannot stress enough how the context will be different. They will love each other in the books, and the R+L=J thing will be about Jon, not about destabilising Dany. Jon will be reborn as Azor Ahai, and in order to forge Lightbringer and end the Long Night, Azor Ahai has to plunge it through the heart of the one he loves most - and that is Daenerys. But it won’t be sneaky, or downright disgusting like in the show. If I know Jon and Dany’s characters like I think I do in the books, the two of them will have a downright argument about it. They will love each other, so so much, and Jon will not want to do it. It will be Dany’s choice to sacrifice herself. Yes, she will die, but the context will make it so so different. It won’t be murder. She will view it as this was her final purpose - giving up her life to free the entirety of Westeros from a tyrannical form of slavery. Because Dany’s arc is tied to slavery. For her to die in defeating the ultimate form of slavery, and choose to do so… it fits. It also makes Jon’s potential end of exile to the Wall believable, because I think Jon would choose to do so. Killing Daenerys, even though she will ask him to, will fuck him up so badly that he will actively choose to remove himself from society again. 

So to draw all of this to a close - I have never thought Dany would sit on the Iron Throne, because the connotations of Targaryen rule represent moving backwards, not forwards, however much she is a good, kind, person. But more fundamentally than that, I have always thought she would die in the War for Dawn. So she wouldn’t sit on the Iron Throne, because she would be dead. But the book context will be so so different - and it will be heartbreaking, but in a way we can actually live with, because it will be Dany being true to who she is right to the very end. Putting her people before herself, and ending slavery. That’s who Dany is. 

Thanks for the ask!

[b-radley66]

Your mission, should you choose to accept it: Someone sends Dani the gossip columns from the Aldera Advocate. Maybe she even gets some comms from the news. XD How does she react to becoming a mild celebrity on another world and the questions about whether or not she's dating a member of the royal family?

Game of Thrones: Alderaan - Gossip

Dani shoves the prisoner against the front of the station’s desk as the Selonian tries to bite her. “No, darling,” she says. “Buy me dinner first, and then we’ll talk.” She motions to two uniformed deputies, one of them another Selonian. They both seem to be smirking as they take the unsuccessful biter off of her hands. Her purple eyes narrow at them both.

“Hey, dear,” comes a voice from above her. She turns and gives the Senior Constable on the desk a bright smile.

“Hey, Kris,” she says. “What’s with all of the looks that I am getting?”

Kris Tome’s dark eyes are searching. “You’ve been undercover for a bit, right? Out of comms?”

“Yeah. Just have the burner-comms. Draq’ declared the counterfeiters a matter for Studies and Observation, so I got the gig.”

Kris nods. Her expression softens. “Go get your comm. You might have some texts and links coming in.”

Dani sets her jaw as she turns towards the locker room. As she passes the Station Commander’s office, Ishtan steps out. His hard eyes stare at her, his lips curling in a triumphant sneer.

~=~=~=~=~=

Dani sits at the desk in the borrowed office. Her eyes closed. Her datapad sits on the desk. The words have already stared accusingly at her.

Corellian Cutie Ambushes Organa Lord.

She opens her eyes to look at the holo of she and Maul. She is laughing up at him, after the Tango. His lips are quirked upward. The holo is not helped by the absolute look of lust from the octogenarian Lord from a lesser House in the near background. Or the fact that she had chosen Zeltron festival-wear for her assignment that night, with only an artfully draped sheer scarf covering her upper body. One that was less artfully draped in this holo, after the exertions of the Tango.

Her eyes flash at the caption under the holo. Corellian (Un)Concealed Weapons. Has the youngest son finally been reeled in? Who is this beauty?

She forces herself to read the story, if it can be called that. “No. Dammit, I will not.”

Dani picks up her comm. She sees several messages. One from Draq’ and one from Meglann. Other codes that she doesn’t recognize, except that they seem to originate on Alderaan. One is repeated several times.

None from Maul.

She looks around, then touches the familiar code. A smiling face pops up.

“Hey, sweetie. Can I have your autograph?” Meglann Florlin, part-time Queen’s Handmaiden and full-time diner-owner says.

“Bite me. So I guess the Palace is pissed?” Dani asks.

Meglann smiles softly. “No. I don’t think so. The Aldera Advocate gossip columnist that wrote that has been after tidbits of information about Maul since he came to the family. She has been known to make up stories before and adjust holos.” She grins, a mischievous gleam in her brown eyes. “I don’t remember your girls popping out that much during the dance.” She gives her a hooded look. “Only remember them much later.”

Dani rolls her eyes. “I think they made an appearance for about half a second, before an adjustment. The holo-slinger must have been staring at them.”

“Along with everybody else there that was breathing. Including, I think, the Queen and the Viceroy.”

“Love, I didn’t read it. Can’t really. Did it blow my cover?” she asks, steeling herself.

“Not really. The Queen’s press hack released a statement that said you were an invited guest who assisted the Lord Keeper of Rhindon in foiling a attempted theft of the Sword.”

“Well, there’s that,” she says after a moment. “Do you talk to the Queen?”

Meglann nods. “I do. We meet for breakfast every week. She might be persuaded to move it up.”

“Can you ask if I can call?”

Meglann’s smile grows. She had thought that the request might be something else. That she would apologize for her. No. That is not her way.

“I will ask. Dani,” she says quietly, “I don’t think you have to worry. The Organas are used to this. It can be a precarious life as a member of Alderaan royalty in the public eye.” Meglann blows her a kiss and signs off.

As she puts it down, her comm buzzes.

She closes her eyes as she sees the icon. She pushes the button. “Hello, Maul,” she says.

His holo pops above the projector. He looks at her with the same even gaze as he always does—at least once he got used to her resonance.

“Hello, Dani,” he says in his dry-as-tinder voice. “Are the flowers surviving?”

She rolls her eyes, laughing softly. “Yes, goofball. That is not why I called. You know why.”

His eyebrow raises at the nickname. She knows he is probably cataloging it, for further study.

“Oh, that,” he says. “The Queen mentioned something about it. I don’t pay that reporter’s work much attention. Too much work to do cleaning up from your last visit,” he says with a straight face. 

“Oh, you will pay for that, bud,” she says as she sees his mouth quirk up slightly. On the left, this time. She looks down. “Maul. I am so sorry. I know how private you are...”

He shakes his head slightly. “It is alright. I know I am a source of public curiosity. This is nothing.”

“Still, I feel responsible...,”

“Did you supply the holos and the unfortunate headlines to the reporter?” he asks suddenly.

“No,” she says.

“Then it is beyond your control, Daaineran,” he finishes. She closes her eyes at the sound of his voice saying her full name. She shakes her head. No. I will not have those thoughts. No. I will not have those thoughts. No. I will not—

Her eyes snap open with realization. “I thought you didn’t read it,” she says accusingly.

“My mother showed it to me. She has ordered copies of the holo. She says to tell you that if she was a bit younger, she would show you a scandal.” He looks away. “She did ask for your commcode.”

Sometimes, even after the time spent with him, Dani cannot tell when he is exercising his dry humor.

She decides to add her own. She is after all, a daughter of Corellia. “Tell her Majesty I await her convenience and her call. So,” she adds, “did you enjoy the holo?”

“I only looked at it as a student of martial arts. I appreciate weapons. Concealed and unconcealed.”

Again, no irony whatsoever. She gives in.

Dani Faygan giggles. At the end of the laugh she does something she hasn’t done in over a decade. She gives a loud snort.

Her eyes lock on his holo. An eyebrow is raised again. “Is there some sort of Corellian boar loose in your office?”

Her laughter is unbridled. I think I am okay.

She takes a deep breath. “So,” she starts. “Is it true?”

“What?” he asks.

“Is the youngest Organa son caught?” 

He grins wolfishly. “No. But it has been a valiant effort. May need a bigger net, though.”

She manages not to allow her eyes to turn black at the grin.

“Maul,” she says. “Thank you.”

He gives her a quizzical look, then dips his head. “It is my pleasure, Inspector.”

A loud voice sounds outside her office. “Faygan!” comes another roar. The roar of the unique Corellian Dragon.

She looks at Maul. “I leave you all of my knives in case I don’t survive this next meeting. You may not find my body.” She blows him a kiss and clicks off.

She turns as the door opens. She puts on her best smile. “Hello, Dragon. What’s up?” she asks innocently.