#daemon crackfic

[daemontargaryenwhore]

He didn’t even know Jaehaerys existed until they found out he was dead 😭😭jk HAHAHAHA

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

[cepetriwrites]

God either stop giving me crackfic ideas or give me the actual time to write them because this is getting ridiculous

[syndrossi]

yes hi it’s me again bc your story is living rent free in my head— thanks for that by the way

anyway i was watching the episode of himym where lily and marshall’s son is born and the song that played at the end was so nice and warm that it made me think of daemon and his boys and what he might’ve though about had he been there when they were born or as babies so naturally i found it and listened to it for ten minutes crying on the floor. i’m fine.

there’s a 30-something second break after 1:15 and to me, it switches the whole feel of it. the first minute and fifteen seconds is this fantasy daemon would’ve had after discovering he had kids and picturing seeing them be born or holding them as infants but that doesn’t happen.

so the other half, beginning at 1:51 is reality, it’s him trying to be a father to them now and it’s still just as heart wrenching and heart warming.

😭

Also, this is oddly timely? Small snippet from next chapter:

“Daemon, they are still very young.”  He angrily batted at the hand reaching for him. Laenor did not understand. How could he? He had held each of his children as babes. Daemon could only imagine it: two tiny heads of wispy hair, light and dark, a bundle for each arm. He had held Luke a few moons after his birth, and his little hand had not been able to close around Daemon’s finger. If I had stayed— Would she have tried to hide them, still? Surely Elys would have come to him first. He could have convinced Rhea then to spare her the shame, to claim them as their own. No one would have had reason to doubt. Would the halls of Runestone have been so hateful then, filled with the laughter of his children?

[sheliesshattered]

With AO3 currently down, I thought I’d go through my tags and reblog all the fanfics I’ve posted to Tumblr over the years. Enjoy!

Daemon/Rhaenyra holiday fanfic (My Gift This Year Is You)

Daemon returns to King’s Landing to celebrate the New Year’s holiday with his family, and finds Rhaenyra waiting to greet him.

Holiday-themed Daemrya fluff, set roughly in the s01e01 timeframe, borrowing from canon but not really sticking to it in any relevant way. Inspired by the Folgers “Home For The Holidays” commercial, because how can you not?

1600 words, rated a very light T, flirty pre-relationship-y stuff, nothing too scandalous. Posted on AO3 under the same title and username.

—

Ñuha Irudy Bisa Jēdarī Iksis Ao (My Gift This Year Is You)

Dawn had not yet broken over King’s Landing as Daemon guided Caraxes into a slow spiraling glide down towards the dragonpit atop Rhaenys’s Hill. He’d been away for years, but little had changed, certainly nothing that could be seen from above in the gloom that blanketed the city before daybreak. It was difficult not to feel as though he was stepping back in time with this homecoming, returning to the place where he’d grown to manhood. In a different year, long past, he might have expected his father to greet him at the Red Keep, or his grandparents, even. But he knew there would be no such welcome on this first day of the hundredth and twelfth year of the Targaryens’ rule over Westeros.

Since their grandfather’s passing, King’s Landing had been much more Viserys’s home than Daemon’s. In the eight years of his brother’s reign, Daemon had found more and more frequent reasons to stay away for moons or even years at a time, in Dragonstone or yet farther still in the free cities of Essos. He was his brother’s heir, it was true, at least until the Queen could produce a living son — but before his grandfather died, he’d been the spare while Viserys was the heir. That feeling of being extra, superfluous, unnecessary and unneeded, had never really faded from him. The moment Aemma birthed a boy to replace him as heir, Daemon would once again be rendered useless, and the knowledge kept him away from King’s Landing more often than he might have liked.

But, well— it was New Year’s Day. One hundred and twelve years since Aegon was crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms. Daemon hadn’t made it home for the last few, and he found he had missed it. The date was hardly noted in Essos, only celebrated by the few scattered Westerosi diaspora, or else marked by nothing more than a passing rude comment directed at House Targaryen. But here in King’s Landing, it was a festival looked forward to by all, lords and small folk alike. By midday, festive decorations in red and black and gold would line the streets, strung across alleyways and hung out of windows. At sunset the city would come alive with revelries, feasting and dancing and music that would last throughout the night, as the people celebrated another year of peace and prosperity under the guidance of the House they had once called Conquerors.

Keep reading

[presidenthades]

What inspired you to write a genderbender fic of HOTD ?

I got into the HOTD fandom a little late. I watched S1 when it first aired, peeked at some fanfic, then went on with my life. Then last spring, I somehow got sucked into the vortex of Aemond fanfics 🥴. I really wanted to write a fanfic or two, so I posted some ideas in a non-HOTD Discord server asking for opinions on what to write. I think the options I wrote were:

Obligatory Aemond/OC romance fic

Crossover-ish fic that blends the Conquest and Dance of Dragons (HOTD characters are the ones conquering Westeros)

Oneshot crackfic where Daemon suffers as a girl!dad to Rhaenyra’s daughters

All the responses in that server told me #3. But I decided to be contrary and start writing #2. I wrote about 30k words before realizing I hated it, and it was very angsty so I decided to take a break and write #3 as a palate cleanser.

I knew I wanted Daemon’s POV and a comedic tone, but I needed to figure out a plot. (Even a oneshot needs a beginning, middle, and end.) I wanted to involve Aemond since he was the reason I dove into HOTD fanfics. Then I read some Aegon fanfics that made me go “oh I might be an Aegon girlie too.” Then my math brain turned on: Rhaenyra has 3 daughters, Alicent has 3 sons. PERFECT. They’re all going to be shipped together.

At first I was going to write about Daemon grudgingly giving the Targbros advice on how to romance their nieces 😂. Then I realized it would be funnier (and made more sense for his character) if he was sabotaging the kids’ romances. And then I realized this fic was definitely going to be longer than a oneshot.

And that’s how I met your mother how I started writing the daughters-multiverse.

[wangxianficfinder]

Daemons / Sentient Sword

~*~

🧡 Song of Suibian and Bichen: Or, the Greatest (And Only) Furby Master of Demonic Cultivation by moonwaif (T, 64k, WangXian, Fix-It of Sorts, canon adjacent, The spiritual weapons are furbies, Angst with a Happy Ending, The parent trap but make it WangXian with furbies, Mutual Pining, Taking my favorite parts of every adaptation and smashing them together)

🧡 like speaking to my heart by SnowshadowAO3 (T, 613k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Daemons, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Some people live!, additional warnings in specific chapters, if you don't know what daemons are that's ok because I explain it in the author's note, also by slow burn I VERY much mean slow burn)

The Grandmaster of Daemonic Cultivation by CaptainJojo (E, 104k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, Daemons, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, a lil bit of sexy in later chapters, Wangxian figures it out quicker, gratuitous bending of the rules of cultivation, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Metaphysical Sex, Daemon Touching, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending)

a shattering of souls by coffee_and_cardamom (M, 42k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Canon Rewrite, Canon Temporary Character Death, Major Character Undeath, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Comfort/Angst, Blood and Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, WWX in WWX's Body, YLLZ WWX, Oblivious WWX, BAMF WWX, POV LWJ, Protective LWJ, LWJ Character Study, Daemon Touching, Daemon Separation, Daemon Feels, Everyone Needs A Hug)

The Grand Master of Daemonic Cultivation by FayJay (G, 3k, wangxian, daemons au)

Kind of Evil by nirejseki (G, 1k, canon divergence, sentient swords, sentient sabers, BAMFs)

Crowded by nirejseki (G, 1k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, LWJ/NHS/WWX, canon divergence, different body offering ritual, atypical relationship dynamics, sentient sabers)

Close by nirejseki (Not rated, 11k, NMJ & Baxia, NMJ & NHS, body swap, sentient sabers)

Ch 25 & 33 of The Tales of Despereaux by stiltonbasket (T, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX summoned by QS, additional warnings in author's note when applicable)

the world passes by but for me there is only you by beeswaxing (E, 82k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it of sorts, accidental marriage, love confessions, first kiss, first time, horny teenagers, pining, fluff, everyone lives au, wedding night, emotional sex, golden core reveal) this one has sentient swords

Chenqing and Wangji Takes Matters Into Their Own Hands by HelloKitten (Not rated, 11k, wangxian, Bichen/Chenqin, fix-it of sorts, glimpse of future, time travel?)

If You Give a Cultivator a Daemon Series by ushauz (T, 23k, WangXian, XianNing, JC & WWX, Daemons, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Polyamory Negotiations)

@zeldacw seems to be this fandom’s originator of the Anthromorphic Weapons trope; those comics can be found under the tag 忘情隨塵 (WangQingSuiChen) and post on her Tumblr and on her Twitter @/zeldacw; inspired Kindred Spirits by EstelweNadia (Not Rated, 2k, WIP, Bìchén/Suíbiàn, Chénqíng/Wangji, Humor, Angst, Eventual Romance, Drama, Slow Build, Slow Burn)

Spiritual Weapons Have Feelings Too Series by meicairoubingfan (kiradyn) (T, 10k, Suíbiàn/Chénqíng, Anthropomorphic Spiritual Weapons, Pining, Weapons As People, Angst, Separation, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Romantic Relationships Between Weapons, But Also Platonic Relationships, Brotherhood, commiserating, Reminiscing, Good Guy JC, Good Brother JC, Established Relationship, Between A Sword And A Flute, Canon Compliant, Foreshadowing of Bichen x Suibian, Foreshadowing Of Wangji x Chenqing)

A somewhat unconventional family by DamieMontclair (T, 1k, Bìchén/Suíbiàn, sentient sword spirits, sentient first class spiritual tools, Little bit of angst, Recovery, Getting Together, Fluff, and dare I say...., Domestic Fluff) crackfic where the weapon and instrument spirits are a family in their own right

~*~

[silver-dragonborn]

Because I've been reading too many Reborn as The Villainess mangas, I can't stop thinking about a self-insert fanfic where the oc wakes up as Alicent Hightower the day before her wedding to Viserys and decides to survive the story by living a life of luxury as Queen, preparing Rhaenyra for the throne, and ensuring that she never has children by Viserys because, in her past life, she was happily childless.

Besides, there's no way in hell she's going to have children with a man who murdered his wife for a son. No, the oc gaslights Viserys into not getting her pregnant thus regaining Rhaenyra's trust and sabotaging Otto's plans. Oc also worked herself to exhaustion in her past life and now that she's Queen in this life, she indulges herself in court while preparing Rhaenyra for the throne and using modern means to help Rhaenyra produce children with Laenor.

And while the oc is living her life in luxury childfree and helping Rhaenyra, Otto is seething and rocking back and forth while Daemon isn't sure what to make of Alicent Hightower's change in personality.

Just a humorous crackfic of a self-insert not involving herself in the usurpation of Rhaenyra's throne through common sense, logic, and subterfuge. The main characters are watching her relaxing and wondering what the hell happened to Alicent Hightower.

[anamazingangie]

Hello! I am Angie! In my mid-twenties, self employed, and spending my time on the internet to ignore the constant crippling depression that my brain has blessed me with. I live in the US and don't have health insurance but DO have cute dogs, so clearly I have my priorities in order.

I realize it's been like a year but I'm still deep in a HotD, or more specifically, a Daemyra obsession (which, as of S2, has warped into a Daemyra + Aegon II obsession). I've never really been into a fandom before, always content to watch from the sidelines. But man, those blonde incestous fuckers got to me good.

Discord is a jerk about permanent invite links, but I have a little HotD/Daemyra sever if you'd like to join me in my brain rot, just shoot me a message!

I more casually enjoy these pairings: Zutara, Darklina, Stucky, Starker, Reylo, Bellarke, Creepyship, and Rhaelya

I write fanfic under the name AmazingAngie on Ao3. Some of my work can also be found under #angie writes though I'm bad at keeping up with it.

I mainly write Daemon x Rhaenrya, with a sprinkle of others (Helaemond, Rhaegon, Daegon) and slightly deranged throuples including:

Daemon/Aegon/Rhaenyra Baelon/Rhaenyra/Daemon Daemon/Oberyn/Rhaenyra

Like, 400k words of deranged throuples. No one asked for them but I can't stop writing them.

I write everything from crackfic and fluff to darkfic and kinky smut. But mostly kinky smut.

When the writing juices aren't flowing I like using my photoshop skills to make edits that vary in terms of shity-ness. These can be found under #angie edits !

This blog is not a fandom blog but rather a disorganized mess of things I find amusing, pretty, arousing, or just generally like.

That means a mix of memes, video games, historical dramas, dresses, dinosaurs, lingerie, landscapes, etc.

I try to tag #fashion, #hotd, and #art, pretty consistently, but that is about it.

[blurhawaii]

yuletide 2024

dear yuletide writer,

hello and happy yuletide! thanks for checking out my letter, whether you’re my writer, someone looking to write some treats, or you’re just curious. i’m pretty easy to please and i always try to leave comments befitting the effort you’ve gone to write me something, because i’m well aware that managing to write anything is incredibly tough.

all of the prompts below are merely suggestions, jumping off points for if you’re struggling to come up with anything. if you’ve got something else that you’re excited to write about, go right ahead. trust me, i’ll happily read it, no matter how out there it might be.

and, most importantly, have fun!

+ treats are very welcome and much appreciated.

++ this is easily my longest letter yet. sorry about that.

general likes:

dysfunctional relationships eg. codependency, messed up father/son dynamics, enemies to lovers (with or without the friend step in the middle), power imbalances, age gaps

unexpected team ups with unlikely characters OR bottle episodes as fic where characters are stuck together in a place/room, unable to leave

vulnerability in men, uncertain intimacy, UST, slow burns first times, forehead kisses, emphasis on hands and touch, touch starved characters, tough love as a means of showing affection

canon divergence and what-if fics, missing scenes, post-canon, fix-it fics, outsider POV, character studies over purely plot driven fics, go way weirder if you like as long as it still feels in universe

bonding through shared trauma—bonus if that leads to messy codependency, PTSD, redemption arcs, found family tropes, difficult family relationships, characters that can’t seem to stay away from each other

supernatural horror, magical realism, cosmic horror, body horror, gothic horror, noir tropes, dark humour, monsters of any kind, ghosts, time loops

size difference, age difference, rough manhandling, competence kink, incompetence kink, loyalty kink, praise kink, pilot kink, clothes sharing, cigarette sharing, character studies as porn, breathplay, clothed sex, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, awkward sex, crying especially during sex, blunt communication between sexual partners

angst (with or without a happy ending) and hurt/comfort fics (heavy on the hurt)

polyamory—especially when an established couple brings in a third, and the journey towards getting it to work

consent issues in terms of characters having sex for reasons that aren’t just straight up attraction, such as for comfort, loneliness, thinking it’s what the other person wants, hero worship, being undercover, previous emotional and personal baggage, a difficult family history leading to messed up dynamics with other parental figures, avoidance of bigger problems

soulmate and daemon fics (this is mostly fandom specific, see prompts for more info)

any rating from gen to porn

DNWs:

AUs that are completely disconnected from canon e.g. high school and coffee shop AUs

crossovers with other fandoms

genderbending, trans headcanons, and asexual headcanons

extreme feminisation of male characters

fics that are entirely tooth rotting fluff

permanent character death and terminal illness (temporary death, ghosts, resurrections are all fine though)

A/B/O fics

scat/watersports

mpreg

first person fics, crackfic, chatfic, songfic, and reader inserts

the departed (2006)

*billy costigan *sean dignam

one of my favourite films ever. i request it every year so you can't really go wrong with this. trust me, i will devour anything you write for these two.

my number one love is dignam. i love his filthy mouthed defense of his undercovers (which includes billy) and his obvious loyalty towards the job and his partnership with queenan. i get a lot of enjoyment from how much he seems to hate sullivan on vibes alone. he’s basically got legend status in both the cop world and the criminal world, and i would be very interested in seeing how and why that came to be.

i have a vague headcanon that dignam was once a younger undercover who got out somehow, and since that rarely happens cleanly i can see a lot of potential for a fic that delves into the trauma of that, and how it relates to billy’s time undercover—which definitely DOES NOT end cleanly.

billy spends the entire film struggling with repressed violent tendencies, crippling isolation, constantly being reminded of and compared to his well-liked father (his uncle and cousin too, but less favourably), and having to juggle various different identities to the point where he doesn’t know which one is real anymore. all of which are themes i would also love to see be explored further.

and obviously i am fascinated by every interaction between these two. from dignam’s attack dog interview tactics, which are fully designed to verbally tenderise billy. dignam expertly reading and needling every one of billy’s weak spots, tearing him down to nothing, ready for queenan’s slightly softer good cop approach meant to reshape him to fit their purpose. to the very rare moments where dignam actually softens too (we need you, pal and my personal favourite why don’t we meet up, sweetheart. let me buy you an ice cream), all leading up to the ultimate loyalty moment of dignam killing sullivan at the end as revenge for billy’s death (and probably queenan too.)

i have written a couple of departed fics myself, centred around shipping costigan/dignam. but in all honesty, i would be happy with anything involving them both. shipping is preferred but whatever you are comfortable with is fine. due to the nature of the film, i am perfectly comfortable with physical violence and the screwed up relationship they are bound to have. the friction born of the situation they are in vs the fact that they need each other to get through this is what i am all about.

prompts:

i have already promised my eternal gratitude to a previous gifter who wrote me a wonderfully odd fic for this prompt. so i can only offer something lesser like an arm or a leg if you write me another fic that incorporates the why don’t we meet up, sweetheart. let me buy you an ice cream line. if you can make that happen in-universe, during the time billy is still undercover, my arm and/or leg is yours to do with what you wish.

any fic where billy survives is always welcome. whether it centres around the very real consequences of taking a bullet to the head, the recovery period that follows, and the long term future billy is looking down barrel of. OR billy never takes the bullet. maybe dignam shows up in time and a mexican standoff in the elevator goes very differently.

maybe some kind of role reversal where instead of madolyn being billy’s therapist point of contact outside of both the cop world and the criminal world, billy could show up on dignam’s doorstep looking for some of the world’s worst therapy. if dignam was a previous undercover, it could be perfect for some trauma bonding.

i’ve always been of the opinion that a time loop fic could work well with this. whether it’s billy having the knowledge to avoid his ending (only for an actual good ending still being hard to get), dignam feeling guilty for not answering billy’s calls by the end and wanting to fix both billy’s outcome and queenan’s. OR maybe go really wild and have an outsider POV stuck in a loop, someone striving for their own personal outcome that somehow also benefits billy’s and/or dignam’s fate, like sullivan or queenan.

as i said in my general likes i think some kind of soulmate or daemon fic could be very interesting in a world where undercover work is the setting. billy and dignam having each other’s names on their person could lend itself to some interesting scenarios. just imagine the interview scene with that fact in dignam’s back pocket. and something about daemons being a true reflection of souls really appeals to me when dropped into these circumstances. bonus points here if you twist or subvert these tropes into some unusual take on them.

slow horses (tv)

*river cartwright *jackson lamb

first of all, i’ll definitely be all caught up on the show by the time that yuletide goes live, so no worries there. i’m also currently reading through the first book and will probably continue after that. feel free to throw in some later book canon if you feel you need to, i’m not too bothered by spoilers, but i am mostly familiar with the show canon and the characterisation we’ve been shown so far.

so from what i can gather most people seem to view these two purely through the lense of a father/son relationship. and while i definitely see it and agree it’s there, it doesn’t exactly stop me from being interested in the shipping potential. honestly, river’s slew of mother issues, father issues, grandfather issues, and so on…combined with the reluctant hero worship and the unwanted mentor/mentee relationship, the vaguely father/son relationship he has with lamb just makes the whole dynamic way more deliciously dense for me.

i am fascinated by all the history lamb has with river’s grandfather, both the personal and the work related, and how that ultimately affects how he views river. i love the reality of lamb slowly divorcing the preconceptions and assumptions he first has about river being just the grandson of the OB who fucked up majorly on the job, to lamb seeing river as his very own messed up individual who fucked up on the job. BUT ALSO as someone who still continues to do good and always strives to do better. as two opposing characters, i very much enjoy that dichotomy of river working so hard to escape slough house and lamb barely working to stay where he is.

i’m a massive fan of loyalty in characters, especially when they try so hard to hide the fact that they care, so obviously i love lamb’s fierce defense of his joes, all while constantly berating them and making sure they know they’re losers. which also brings me to river’s coin flip bouts of competence and incompetence as a spy, both of which delight me in equal measure, just as much as it delights me to see lamb’s reaction to both extremes. on top of that, pretty much any time that river gets roughed up and bloody, i cheer and gleefully drink it up.

i love the spy craft elements of this universe, the blend of the old world and the more modern practises, depending on the generation of spy doing the spying. also, just the unrelenting bureaucracy of the job and how being a slow horse puts them right at the bottom of the totem pole, as i’m always pulling for the underdogs in any story.

i enjoy every other character doomed to work at slough house (particularly river’s work buddie louisa, standish’s motherly concern and her own history with both river and lamb, and shirley just because), along with taverner, spider, and even duffy. if any one of them were to show up in something here, i would be a-okay with that. just remember i’m mostly familiar with the show.

prompts:

as i said above, i do ship it and i would be over the moon to receive a gift that manages to craft a believable, in character reason for these two to fuck. i’m envisioning any one of the scenarios i mentioned in the consent issues paragraph from my general likes. from hero worship reasons, weird comfort, loneliness, spy mission in which they’re stuck together and the safe house only has one bed, what starts as twisted payback for lamb’s hatred of david cartwright turning into something else, whatever you can think of. if you draw attention to the vague father/son and mentor/mentee relationship here, i’ll award bonus points.

if you’re not comfortable writing anything shippy, i’d be very happy with any fic where river and lamb have to work together in the field for whatever reason. maybe lamb has to come to river’s rescue OR even the reverse of that. and you can’t really go wrong with in media res-ing a situation where river is hurt and lamb is begrudgingly fixing things.

i’ve given a lot of thought to the idea that lamb has known river since he was young, or at least has been aware of him ever since river was left behind in his grandfather’s care. i’m not too sure of the actual timelines, having less familiarity with the books, but i would be very interested in a kind 5+1 fic detailing moments they’ve met before, back when river was just a boy, growing up, leading to him joining the service, and inevitably the mistake that lands him at slough house. i’m not looking for any shipping content when river is still underage, but after that is fair game to me.

the color of money (1986)

*eddie felson *vincent lauria *carmen

this film manages to cover so many of my interests and i can’t believe it took me as long as it did to watch it. but watch it i have, many times since, and i’ve even gone back and watched the hustler for extra context and more paul newman.

for this request i would like for all three characters to play a part in any fic. i ship all configurations and, if you’re willing, i’ve been craving an ot3 fic since the moment i first watched it. if you’re not comfortable writing explicit content, that’s fine too. please just include everyone.

for me, the draw of this film is the theme of corrupted goodness. by the end, i think all three of these characters have fed into each other’s worst traits and made each other even worse—and honestly i love that. the case is strongest for vincent, i’d say, who starts this film being pretty naïve, whereas eddie and carmen are definitely more streetwise. or professionals, as they call themselves. although, eddie running into them again at the end of the film goes to show that eddie hasn’t managed to change all that much either.

there’s also the amazing line: you make him feel, i teach him how to run—and that very much sums up the dynamic i love here, of accidently creating a monster out of vincent, who eventually turns on them, which in turn keeps both eddie and carmen from rising to anything better. let them all wallow in the gutter where they belong, just as long as they’re together.

there’s the older/younger dynamic between all of them, there’s the mentor/protege relationship between all of them. there’s even the special mention of a father/son relationship which the film wonderfully lampoons with eddie allowing vincent to get hurt in order to teach him a lesson. the way eddie gingerly wipes the blood from vincent’s face afterwards while carmen drives the car is one of my favourite scenes. a fic that explores these many criss-crossing connections would be amazing.

the whole road trip setting leads to some very interesting moments where personal boundaries are tested. i’m fascinated by the way vincent and carmen keep openly pushing eddie when it comes to their relationship, flipping between teasing him and enticing him when they let him into their room while they’re showering and getting dressed. contrast that against the moments where we see them happily hanging out, watching tv, and eating meals together. they seem to genuinely enjoy each other’s company sometimes—the odd kindness vincent and carmen show eddie when he gets played himself is so strangely sweet—all of which makes the later jealousy and betrayal even juicier for me.

i love kitschy americana diners and cheap motel rooms as vibes and atmospheres, along with smokey pool halls and less than reputable bars. i love the passing of different generations, eddie having to come to terms with the fact that times are changing, especially after the events of the hustler, and him now being confronted by vincent and carmen’s youth.

and lastly, i’ve always been of the opinion that eddie passing down his pool cue to vincent is pretty phallic in nature. i don’t really know what to do with this knowledge, i just know i enjoy it, and now it’s yours to do with what you wish.

prompts:

i would love any fic that’s set during their time on the road, going from pool hall to pool hall, getting more familiar with each other. maybe to save their hustled money they have to share a motel room, making it a perfect opportunity for a ‘only one bed’ scenario. i can imagine vincent and carmen having to coax eddie into bed with them because an old man like him shouldn’t be sleeping in a chair. it could also include: stopping at diners, driving late into the night, deep conversations, falling asleep on people’s shoulders, fooling around in the backseat and the voyeurism of a third person pretending not to watch.

maybe lean into the whole playing pool thing and the art of the hustle. only, this time, bring carmen into it more. have eddie and vincent teach her how to play, both the game and other people. or they could be the only ones left at a deserted hall, because no one goes to halls to play pool anymore, and what starts as a teaching moment quickly becomes a game of one-upmanship.

anything post-canon where they continue to run into each other, tripping up the other’s plans and grifts on purpose. real childish nonsense of deliberately getting in each other’s ways, all because they can’t seem to stay away, for better and for worse.

from (tv)

*jade herrera

i’m currently watching the new season as it airs, and will definitely be all caught up by the time that yuletide goes live. any potential writer or gifter, i’m giving you a blanket statement allowing you to include and reference anything that happens this season. as i will definitely be craving some supplemental material to go with whatever craziness they see fit to leave us with.

having said that, if jade dies, i will riot, as he has been my favourite since the very beginning. this weed smoking, schrodinger’s bisexual, arrogant tech company guy who thinks his money can buy him everything, including a way out of this (vr) nightmare.

since his arrival in town, he’s maybe the character that has changed the most. a lot of his arrogance has been stripped away by the cruel reality of this place, and his tailored capris pants and expensive shirts have been replaced by practical sweaters and winter coats. his transformation from pretty boy to mountain man initially caused me some distress, but i have since come to accept it, if only because i do love to see a character in decline. i think it succinctly conveys his new state of mind and his humbled acceptance of his place in the town. it most definitely helps that we are still occasionally graced with his kitty cat shirt, which is maybe my favourite thing about him—and i’m barely even kidding.

i am enamoured by his tendency to rub people the wrong way, despite the fact that he is always trying to help fix things and figure out the mystery of the town. his obsessive personality is both a boon and a hindrance in that regard. though i do still believe he believes he’s the smartest person in any room, only that nothing about the town makes any logical sense.

on that note, the connection the town seems to have with him fascinates me too. it’s very supernaturally psychological in nature. journals full of mad scribblings, visions and cryptic symbols and, of course, we can’t forget the screaming ventriloquist dummy. any fic that delves into this weirdness would be amazing.

i devour each and every small bit of info we learn about him. his long term friendship with tobey, growing up in paris with his grandmother but having to come back to the states to live with his uncle when she dies (really makes me wonder what happened to his parents), his ability and his contentment of playing the violin, his apparent habit of playing dress up as a kid, the million dollar software company he just sold before arriving in town. if you want to write backstory about any one of these things, i’d love to read it.

more generally, i love the horror tropes of this show. the constant looming threat of the monsters, the confusing mess of shit they find in the woods every time they venture out there, being confined inside during the night, the body horror, the teleporting trees, the japanese water spirit, the looping nature of the road in and out of town, the forced comradery of living with strangers, whatever the hell the cromenockle actually is. and so on and so on. feel free to make up your own weird shit and throw it into the pot. as long as jade is there and suffering, i will read anything you can come up with.

prompts:

i requested only jade this year for ease of matching and, rest assured, i will be perfectly happy with a gift featuring only him. pick anything i’ve rambled about above and you’re golden.

on the other hand, if you are willing, a lot of my joy of jade does come from his interactions with others. i ship him with so many people in town, and love his platonic interactions with so many others too. if you would be interested in including them, for my gifter and the potential blessed occurrence of treaters, i’ll briefly touch on a couple of my favourites:

jade & tian chen: from the moment she yelled at him, I knew i was in for a wonderful ride. maternal figures just cut straight through jade’s bullshit and i love it. the scene where jade monologues about his grandmother to tian chen and, despite the language barrier, she just GETS him. ah, chefs kiss. recent events in the show have completely gutted me however. she made him tea :( a soft or bittersweet missing scene before that with the two of them might help piece my heart back together.

jade/jim & jade/tabitha & jade/jim/tabitha: i love both of the relationships jade has with jim and tabitha separately. the logical experiments and science based worldview of the town that he shared with jim—against the supernatural, scooby doo mystery sleuthing, vibes based view that he shares with tabitha. they also both yell at him a lot and that’s always good. as for the ot3, i just think jade has the capacity to fix their fail marriage by being so annoying it brings jim and tabitha closer together again, by them wanting to fuck him just as much as punch him.

jade/boyd // jade & boyd: i just think if they pooled their knowledge and means together they could finally get some serious shit done. there’s nothing more to it than that, really.

jade & victor: bring back the violin. i love how much it meant to victor, and that victor eventually trusted jade to even touch it. i also love the idea that word might spread that jade can play, and others might miss music so much that they force him to play to a bigger crowd.

jade/khatri // jade & khatri: a real missed opportunity here, i think. jade called him beautiful while high, and since he loses his oldest friend tobey on the same day that he arrives, maybe talking to a friendly priest is all he needs. there’s also the fact that jade is one of the few people who also regularly sees ghosts of dead residents in town. other than boyd, who better to bond with a dead khatri?

as for more general prompts, i think the necessity of the talismans could lead to a great bottle episode type of fic, as well as contriving an in-universe reason to stick an unusual combination of characters together in a place overnight. roll a die, if you want, and force them to play monopoly or two truths and lies. whatever gets them talking.

if you want to go really weird, how about a fic where jade’s right about it being a large scale larping situation, or a VR simulation that tobey has actually did set up. what happens then when people die in town?

24 (tv)

*tony almeida *jack bauer

i was a huge fan of this show back when dvd boxsets were still a thing, and i pretty much wore my sets out watching them on repeat. more recently, it showed up on disney+ and i’ve since been reliving my obsession again.

seasons 1-4 were the golden years for me. i continued to watch past that and enjoyed it, but certain events of season 5 (namely: the deaths of tony, michelle and david palmer) were hard for me to get over. i give special dispensation to season 7 because they brought my very special boy tony almeida back as a villain (which i admittedly hated at the time, but have since come to love and really appreciate as a legitimate path for his character to take. more on that below in my prompts.)

it’s so amusing for me to go back to the first season and see tony as this smug, soul patch having loser. a minor character that i’m pretty sure we’re meant to dislike just for the crime of being opposed to jack and nina, all while knowing the amazing journey his character goes on. just know that i appreciate every era he goes through.

tony manages to stay very dry and sardonic throughout, which i adore in a character (i still mimic his flat yah every time he answers a phone.) he shows that he can hold his own in the field too (heart eyes for the times tony shows up with a gun at the last second to save the day, like with terri in season 1 and jack and audrey in season 4.) but he’s also savvy enough at the bureaucracy side of things to rise up the ranks to head of CTU. (RIP to george mason, my absolute favourite side character, despite lasting only last two seasons. xander berkeley the GOAT.)

i love tony’s relationship with michelle because i find it fascinating how similar she is to jack at times. the thing with jack and michelle is that they are very much believers of the adage the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few and the one, which is obviously very important for the job they do. whereas tony is always more interested in saving the people around him, the people he cares about, and ultimately his wife. it’s what leads to his arrest later, tony putting michelle above his country, and that kind of loyalty, him damning all the consequences, is numero uno in my book.

as for jack, i definitely grew up thinking he was the coolest person alive (i find ways to bring up the moment at the la coliseum when he runs up the wall and snaps that guy’s neck an embarrassing amount.) he’s a one man army, a terminator, endlessly persistent, and yet he can still find the time to sit in his car at the end of a long day and cry. he really can do it all and there’s not much more i need to say.

there’s an underlining of loyalty between these two that starts, i think, from the moment they learn about nina’s status as a mole. the fact that they both slept with her at different times (possibly even overlapping) lends itself to a certain bond going forward. a mutual betrayal building a weird commiserating trust. from there, i love seeing tony become one of the few people at CTU jack trusts pretty implicitly. he entrusts kim’s safety (*sighs* oh, kim) to tony on numerous occasions, to the point where tony and michelle even help jack fake his death. can’t get much more trusting than that.

the 24h clock format for the show really was groundbreaking at the time, and i think it still continues to be a major positive that the show has going for it. i love all the subterfuge and having spies working both sides right under your nose. the quick and sudden violence underscored by the ticking clock. the technology is also hilariously dated at this point too that payphones were a legitimate defense against terrorism and secret agendas.

prompts:

i do ship it, along with liking a lot of their canon relationships. i would love a shipping fic involving tony/jack, but gen is fine. depending on the season setting you choose to write in, i’m fine with references to past relationships like tony/michelle, tony/nina, jack/nina, jack/kate, jack/audrey. i do love ot3 fics as well, so if you want to write any combination of jack/tony/nina and jack/tony/michelle too, it will eat it right up.

straight out of prison, depressed and alcoholic tony is a personal favourite of mine. the way jack relays all the sad facts to audrey so casually has always blown my mind. it means jack was there at the sidelines to see it, and he even mentions michelle’s side of things too, showing that he’s familiar with her too. i once read a post where someone wrote: do you think jack was the best man at tony’s wedding? that question has haunted me ever since, and being confronted with tony at rock bottom always brings it to the front of my mind.

there’s so much potential in a fic set pre-season 3. the whole secret OP that jack, tony and gael organise off the record, which involves getting jack addicted to heroin and in with the salazars. it’s rife for further exploring, maybe something messy and uncomfortably intimate with tony being jack’s only point of contact during this period, and having to sneak behind michelle’s back out of necessity.

i’m weirdly fascinated by the reality of working at CTU during the non-disaster days. the boring, day to day stuff we don’t ever get to see. anything set during any era could honestly be interesting. whether that’s early season 1 during the break in jack’s marriage, or season three when jack is head of OPS and tony is his equal. hell, bring back george mason for a day and let him and tony bitch about jack and their coworkers while standing at the water cooler together. i’m game for anything and anyone, as long as tony and jack are present.

season 7 villain tony. i love the angst jack experiences when learning that tony is alive. i think the show fumbles tony’s true motivations a little by having him flip flop between real villain, undercover good guy, back to actual villain getting revenge for michelle. if they had picked one and stuck with it all the way, i think it might have worked better. having said that, i can get behind both versions, and would love a fic detailing either paths. especially something post-season 7 that explores jack reaching out to tony while he’s back in custody.

[daemontargaryenwhore]

it looked like that punch took all his strength how is his mother not embarrassed Harwin is rolling in the dust

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene II: he kinda looks like my ex boyfriend | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, generally gross!daemon, harwin 'big daddy' strong, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: Following the events of our mighty poll 😁😁😁😁 im excited to say what won was was always my intention and im glad you lovely readers have synced with me on it BWHWAHA sorrows sorrows prayers

"Fucking Seven," I sigh and gather my thick skirts, running up to the blue haired girl. The servant who escorted her promptly curtsies then walks away. I release the fabrics to grasp her face. I sigh in relief, "thank the gods you're here, Libby."

"What the fuck are you wearing?" she asks groggily, eyeing my dress.

I shake my head, "fuck, shit, I mean Lilibet."

"And how did you braid your hai-" Libby speaks the same time as me before freezing and raising a finger, "fuck you."

I growl and grab her hand, "no, no, no. Listen to me," I push her hand down, "you remember running through that damned arch?"

Libby wrangles out of my clutch and rather exasperatedly glares at me, "what?"

I release a shudder then grab her face again, "listen to me, Libby!" I sigh, "remember that stupid urban legend?"

Libby's face contorts as she groans. She pushes my hands off her à la 5-year-old tantrum; her blue hair, in turn, flies to her face.

"We crossed that arch," I grab her arms, "and now we're in fucking first century Westeros, Libby," I hiss, pulling her to the bed, "which is why I have to call you Lilibet-"

"Fuck you."

"-and you have to change and cover your hair," I release her to grab the clothing on the sheets, shoving them into her chest.

"What ABOUT my hair!"

I shake my head, "it's a dead giveaw-"

"You're closer to dead. You look like a fucking grandma and you have problems with my hair?!" Libby throws the clothes back on the bed, "listen, I know I got wasted and shit, and I'm sorry, but if you want me to cosplay as a peasant, just say that and get me coffee, please-"

"LIBBY!"

Libby's ear's ring, "bitch, the fu-"

"THERE IS NO COFFEE!" I grab her arms and shake her, "we're being held hostage by Daemon Targaryen and this hair," I manically point to my head, "is our fucking lifeline!"

Libby's face pinches, the initial grogginess in her expression is expelled, "Ok, calm your tits, YN-wannabe. I told you reading fics of him would fuck with your head. Imagine reading fics about King fucking Charles-"

"IT'S NOT THE SAME!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THE SAME?! IT'S FUCKING WORS-"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT, LIBBY!"

"HE'S THE COLONIZER OF COLONIZERS!"

"IT'S NOT A FANFIC!" I pinch my fingers together, "THIS IS NOT A FANFIC! I AM telling you we fucking crossed that arch and now we're FUCKING-"

My words cease when a creaking sound of the heavy door fills the room. The both of us turn to the door as it opens. My heart begin to race.

Lo and behold, Daemon Targaryen walks in, one hand on his hilt, eyes looking us both up and down. Libby shifts in her spot as Daemon approaches. Her demeanor immediately changes when she sees him. She straightens up and pushes her hair back, dusting off her hot pink top. Aint no way.

"Do I look good?" Libby mutters to me before Daemon is in front of us. My eyes blow wide and my jaw slacks. Be so fucking for real. She fixes her radioactive blue hair and my upper lip curls in disgust and annoyance.

Libby and Daemon lock gazes; the former smirks, "hey, cutie pie."

I slap my hand to my face. The sound reverberates in the room.

"What is a cutie pie?" Daemon asks stoically.

Libby leans on one leg, "you."

"Seven fucking hells," I quip, roughly dragging my palm down my skin.

Daemon turns to me before tilting his head. He mirrors Libby's stance and his lips faintly curve upward, "in this era, girl, pies are food. What would I have in common with a type of pie?"

Libby lets out an airy chuckle, "you ren fair boys really like roleplay, huh?"

Daemon raises a brow, "I assure you, nothing about me is boyish."

Libby bites her lip and claws the air, "rawr."

I am unable to mask the sound I make. Daemon pulls his head back at Libby's actions.

I grit my teeth and grab her arm; she shakes me off, making sure to giggle as she does this. Daemon chuckles as he turns to me, "I see why you are keen on keeping her."

"You can keep me if you like," she blurts, stepping in front of me to garner his attention. Daemon steps back.

I grab Libby's arm again. This time, with much force that the ends of my hair whip around. I whisper-yell, "you do know that is Daemon Targaryen, right?"

Libby barely turns to me as she mutters, "what?"

"You're flirting with the Daemon Targaryen," I sneer, "first of his name," I lean in and whisper, "manwhore."

Libby looks at me from over her shoulder to me then back to Daemon, "ahhhh. A cosplayer."

"Libby, I swear to g-"

"It's pretty good," she crosses her arms then points, "is that a wig or hair dye?"

Daemon furrows his brows, face contorting at her words.

My eyes widen and suddenly the silver hair on my scalp itches like it doesn't belong to me. Well, see-- it doesn't! Not in a way that counts to the incestuous gremlin!

From the way his composure tightens, I could tell he was no longer amused. I yank Libby back, shooting her a glare, "literally shut the fuck up."

She scowls at my pressed tone, "what? I was just asking-"

"Hair dye?" Daemon blurts way too loud, shutting us both up.

We turn to him as he looks between us. He tilts his head and adjusts his grip on his sword. He straightens his posture. In that moment, his expression was changed dramatically. He reaches out for Libby's hair, inspecting it in his hand. His violet eyes dart to hers, "so, your hair is blue because of dye?"

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.

I grab Libby's hand before she can think of saying some bullshit. She does not move a muscle as I squeeze her palm.

Daemon raises his brows impatiently.

"What?" she mumbles.

I clench my jaw at her ditzy response.

Daemon narrows his eyes, "are you so dimwitted not to understand me the first time?

Fucking fuck. A shiver runs down my spine. Libby raises her brows and turns to me as I stare at Daemon. I blurt, "it is a right of passage for her family."

Daemon eyes me hotly.

I release Libby's hand and scramble to the bed where my clothes were folded into a small sack. I go through my things and pull out my phone, opening my gallery, showing Daemon a photo of Libby and our friends with bright colored hair. I lie, "these are her cousins."

Daemon pulls his head back at the sight of the photo on my phone; it was the exact reaction he had when I showed him a screenshot of the maps of this very place.

Libby blinks rapidly as Daemon comes to my side. The man basically breathes down my neck as he looks a the screen like a boomer. He narrows his eyes and pulls back his chin.

I point to Sandra, who had pink hair, "they do this to... commemorate the war-- of their people."

Daemon looks at Libby again, seemingly expecting more of an explanation. I look at Daemon and begin to panic at the aloof expression Libby held. I place my hand on his arm and rub it gently. Thankfully, he's still a simple man and it seems to diffuse his unbelieving demeanor, "it's hard for her to talk about. It was a war over dye and trading. A lot of her family... were casualties."

Fuck. WELL, real wars have been fought for WAAAY less.

Daemon turns to me, "I find it hard to believe such traditions exist two thousand years from now."

"And yet," I wave my phone, "you could not also believe you were listening to music with me moments ago."

He hums and turns back to Libby. He nods, "well, have her dress," he turns back to me, "I want to break fast with you before the tourney, dragonling."

I nod rapidly. Daemon gives a smile and heads for the door, "you remember your way to the solar?"

"I do."

He eyes Libby as he walks off then turns to me, "very good."

The moment the door closes, Libby explodes, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!

"WE'RE IN FUCKING FIRST CENTURY WESTEROS," I whisper-yell, "now keep your voice down, you stupid fucking bitch, and change!"

It took me explaining everything that happened in detail as she got in her dress AND getting lost in the fucking castle then actually finding our way to the solar for Libby to believe I wasn't playing the most elaborate prank on her.

And when we got there, a servant informed us that the prince had been summoned by the king and that we should eat by ourselves.

Libby and I sit across each other. We decide to forfeit the fact the food could be poisoned because we were way too hungry not too eat. This blue haired rat, however, couldn't fucking stop saying the food could use salt and pepper. We were mortified when a servant came to us with a mortar of just that.

Before we could even say thank you, she runs off.

I snap at Libby, who scratches her headscarf for the nth time, "do you fucking understand you're a terrifying aristocrat right now?!"

"I'M SORRY!" Libby makes a repentant expression.

"You should be!"

"It's just that everything is fucking boiled and-"

The sound of the door opening ends Libby's yapping. We both snap to see who was entering.

In walks the dark haired man from the night before. Gold cloak, armor, and all. He steps in front of us and bows, "good morn."

"Hubba hubba," Libby tucks imaginary hair behind her ear.

"Fucking," I snap to her, "stop."

I look back at the man trying to remember his name, I can't seem to.

"Wait! Is this the madly good looking guard you were talking about?!" Libby speaks WAY to loud for a conversation between two people across each other.

The man makes a sound as he wipes his lips. My eyes widen and I sink in my chair.

"You clearly have a type," Libby mutters as she unabashedly eyes him. He is undeterred. She tilts her head, "he looks like your ex."

I snap back at her, "w h a t?"

"Or I mean he would look like him," she points her thumb, "if he wasn't so whiny, short, and pathetic," Libby turns to me.

"He literally looks nothing like Jon."

"He does!" she leans in, "dark curls, thick brows!"

I shove a bread roll into her mouth.

"Prince Daemon tasked me to be your chaperone for the day," he says, clutching his hand in front of him.

"I've always wanted a hot bodyguard," Libby smiles and leans back on her chair, "well, don't just stand there," she beckons him, "come join us for breakfast."

I pretend to fix my silver hair as I clear my throat, "breaking fast."

"Breaking fast," Libby corrects with a grin, "and what was your name again, pretty boy?"

I groan as I shove a bread roll into my mouth.

"Harwin Strong, my lady," Harwin mutters with another respectful nod, turning to me, "and please, forgive me for last night's encounter, Lady Gryffindor."

Libby titters and slaps her hand on her mouth.

"If I came off as impertinent or-"

"No, please, sir Strong," I raise a hand to him, "you were doing your job-- I mean your duty. Nothing needs to be forgiven."

"By the way," Libby raises a finger, "I'm Lady Hufflepuff and I would love it if you sat down next to me."

Harwin turns to Libby and I resist the urge to facepalm. My face twitches and I watch as Harwin shifts in his spot. I blurt, "you can call her Lilibet."

"Fuck you," Libby snaps.

I snap back, "well, that is your name, is it not?"

"I'm not entering my nun era."

I make a throaty sound and grab a goblet, "clearly," I take a sip, "but with that getup-"

"Hey!" Libby bangs on the table, "you're the one who made my cunt levels drop with this milkmaid outfit."

Harwin begins to cough.

"What? Like I chose that for you?"

"No," she props her elbow on the table, "but Daemon gave you a city girl-"

"Prince Daemon."

"-outfit and he made me look like your ugly handmaiden."

"Again," I brush my platinum hair out of my face, "that wasn't my choice, Lilibet."

"My ladies-" Harwin interjects, making us both turn to him. He clears his throat and offers pinched smile, "I am honored by the invitation, but I will stand watch out-"

"Oh, don't be rude and just sit down already," Libby presses with a playful look, "there's way more food than the two of us can eat."

And though she was correct, I kick her underneath the table.

Libby yelps and eyes me. I dodge her when she kicks me back.

"I don't think it appropri-"

"Nonsense!" Libby calls, turning back to Harwin as she fails to kick me again, "please, just join us."

"LILIBET!" I whisper-yell.

"UGH!" she turns to me with disgust and whisper-yells back, "stop fucking calling-"

"You do know he could literally be like your great-great-great-great-"

She raises a hand and cuts me off with a guttural groan, "oh miss me with that bullshit! You're LITERALLY a Targaryen!"

"I will wait outside," the man calls, making us turn to him.

Harwin walks off and Libby raises the bowl of bread rolls, "THE BREAD ROLLS ARE ACTUALLY REALLY NICE THOUGH!"

I wipe my face, "Libby, we're going to fucking die."

"Not before I try myself some Harwin Strong."

"SIT BACK DOWN."

"I'M SAT!"

When we finished eating, Harwin escorted us to the arena to watch the tourney.

"Are you married, Harwin? Can I call you Harwin?" Libby asks.

I shoot her a look, "Lilibet."

Libby ignores me. The man we were following keeps walking, not bothering to look back at us, "you may call me whatever you like, my lady."

Libby and I turn to each other with a gasp. No, cause why he playing like that?

"And I am not married," he looks over his shoulder, eyes locking with mine momentarily.

Libby's jaw drops and begins to shake me. She mutters loudly under her breath, "bitch. why he looking at you, and not at me?"

"Probably because you're fucking stupid!" I retort quickly in the same manner, unable to mask my giddy tone.

Harwin clears his throat again as he looks front. Neither of us catch this.

"Libby, be so fucking real though," I grab her arm and whisper, "that's someone's grandpa."

"Yeah, well, today, he's my daddy," she mumbles then bites her lips, as if it could minimize her grin.

Harwin makes a face and whispers under his breath, "daddy?"

When we get to the arena, the sound of the cheering crowds make both of us excited, up until someone screamed in terror and the crowds continued cheering anyway. Harwin gave us spots quite near the front, and the sight of the horses and their long-ass sticks left me feeling uneasy.

Libby shoves into me as she points to the far right. I, in turn, collide into Harwin's bulky armor. Before I can apologize for it, she squeals, "LOOK, IT'S DAEMON!"

"Libby, he's the prince!"

"TAKE A PHOTO! He looks so good!"

I give her a look as I straighten up, "girl, shut the fuck up."

Without another thought, she pulls out her phone from her bosom and wipes the moisture off the screen.

Harwin looks away, eyes wide, pretending he did not just see that happen.

"Stop it! You have no idea how bad this could-"

"Oh, shut up, you showed Daemon your phone!" Libby makes a face.

"THAT'S BECAUSE HE WOULDN'T LET ME GET REUNITED WITH YOU IF I DIDN'T CONVINCE HIM I WAS FROM-."

"Shush," she opens her camera and begins to take photos of Daemon. She shouts his name along with the other spectators and I beg her to at least call him prince.

"What is that contraption," Harwin asks, eyes glued on Libby's cracked screen.

I turn to Harwin, to Libby's phone, back to him, "it's, err... an image capturing... box."

Harwin nods at me though his face is visibly confused. He furrows his brows as Libby switches to front cam and puckers her lips out, "SAY CHEESE, DADDY!"

The color in Harwin's face drains when he sees himself on the screen. I clutch his arm and give him a look, "it's okay. It's not dangerous."

"Will it capture my image?" he mutters and covers his face. He mutters under his breath, "I'd like to keep my face."

Fuck. "N-not like that. It's... it's not black magic."

All the while, Libby is pressing the buttons on her phone, rapidly taking photos no one asked for.

A few people around us begin to mutter to themselves. I find myself looking over my shoulder, catching a bunch of men staring right at us. I eye Libby, nonverbally telling her to quit it. She gives me a look and snaps a few more pics of Daemon before shoving her phone back in her cleavage.

I release a breath when she does, that, and ser Harwin's arm that I did not realize I was still latched on to. I offer a look, "sor- apologies."

He nods, "all is well, my Lady."

And yeah sure, maybe it was. Maybe all was well. Daemon was winning the tournament-- or tourney, I guess; I have no idea what the difference was. I mean I could barely watch because they were fucking gladiator-ing each other, but I knew he was winning because after every crash, came a trumpet and the announcement of it.

So yeah. Maybe it was fine then, in its own sick way, but then Libby pulled me by the arm and said, "I have to take a shit."

"What?"

She gives me a look, "I need to take a shit."

"Libby," my eyes widen.

"I know!" she grabs my shoulders as the crowd cheers over whatever barbaric brawl was happening this time, "you think I want to know what their loos look like?" she shakes me, "am I going to have to shit in a river?"

I wipe my face and turn over to Harwin. His eyes turn from the match to me when I pull at his cloak, "mmm.... Lilibet has to... ... to poop."

Libby slaps my arm. I turn to her, frazzled. She hisses, "he doesn't know what poop is."

"You think I don't know that?!"

"I beg your pardon, my lady?" Harwin shifts to us, his thick brows knitting.

"Yeah, one second," I raise a finger at him, looking back at Libby, "I don't fucking remember the word."

Libby sighs, "Just tell him I need to sh- I NEED TO SH-"

I slap my hand on her mouth, "QUIT IT!"

Libby pushes my hand off, "WHAT?!"

"HE'S NOT GONNA KNOW WHAT THAT-"

"EVERYONE FUCKING KNOWS WHAT TAKING A SH-"

"NO, THERE'S A TERM THAT THEY USE! Think about it! Have you never watched a BBC period drama?!"

"BITCH, YOU KNOW I ONLY WATCH NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC!"

"OK, THEN THINK OF WHAT DAVID ATTENBOROUGH SAYS WHEN THE ANIMALS ARE POOPI-"

"DO YOU GENUNINELY BELIEVE THEY SHOW FOOTAGE OF ANIMALS POOPING ON TELEVISION?!"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. IN ALL TV HISTORY THERE HAS TO BE AT LEAST ONE TIME WHERE-"

"HARWIN," Libby shoves me to the side and grabs the man, "I HAVE TO SHIT."

Seven father fucking hells. I dig my fingers into the roots of my light hair and to Harwin, whose lips part and brows furrow. He nods, "I will lead you to the privy," he turns to me, "stay here in the meantime."

We both nod. Libby walks to Harwin's and makes a face at me, "they call it a privy on the BBC, do they? Sounds like an office."

"Libby- Just- if push comes to shove, tell him you'll shit in the river."

Libby groans as Harwin leads her off. She shoots me a glare, "I am not shitting in a river with Harwin watching!"

I shriek in shock when there is a loud crashing sound. My hands dart to my ears just as the crowd roars. A loud voice announces the victory of Prince Daemon from House Targaryen.

I drag my hands down my cheek and clutch my chest.

I dare to look at the casualties on the playing grounds, but to my horror, I see something far worse. Daemon's horse is galloping over to me. He rips his helmet off, tosses it, and sighs through a grin. He points his stick to me and loudly calls, "might a fair woman like you reward me something sweet?"

My eyes widen and I feel the entire stadium turn to me. My heart races and my jaw loosens inch by inch.

Daemon shoves his stick to the side and reaches his arms out to me, "a kiss perhaps?"

Rat, I wasn't even watching you play. Why should I reward you for winning a game I didn't watch?

I cannot help the sound that leaves me when the other audience members begin to spur me on and nudge me. Fuck. I hate peer pressure. I walk towards the railing and eye Daemon as if I had laser vision.

"I CANNOT REACH YOU!" I scream back, momentarily shocked by the ferocity and fury of my voice. I gulp and clear my throat, rubbing my neck that I would so like to keep. I raise my hands, "I must then stay here!"

Daemon, face shining with sweat, colored with dirt and blood, beams as he looks up. He chuckles and dismounts his steed. He walks closer to me and begins to remove his armor, "then come down to me, woman!"

The crowd loses it. The women around me scream that I should come down to him.

Maybe if I jump head first, I'll be done with all this bother.

Fuck, but then Libby would be all alone.

I groan under my breath, "fucking Libby. This is all her fucking fault!"

I look back at Daemon, who had two men helping him out of his armor at this point. His eyes are on me; they probably didn't leave. His lips are curved higher, "fear not," he smirks deeper, "did I swear to protect you?"

The crowd is feral. I glance around the place. Isn't the fucking king right there?!

"No!" I look down at him and shake my head, "you swore not to harm us!"

Daemon laughs, "is there a difference?"

"YES!" I blurt, eyes wide.

Daemon stands alone bellow me, free of his upper body armor. He raises his hands up to me, "then believe me when I say you will not be harmed when you jump."

"Oh gods," I grip the railing and screw my eyes shut, "I fucking hate this man."

"Will you make all of King's Landing wait days for you, girl?"

I growl as the people around me continue to pressure me to jump. Had there not been people around, maybe I would have spit at him. And yet - I climb the railing - I am nothing against peer pressure.

Daemon steps forward, arms higher, laugh louder.

The stadium gasps while heart leaps into my mouth when I let go of the railing and drop straight down. The collision is just as messy as I had dreaded it to be and the next thing I know, I've smack dabbed atop the fucking prince of the realm, crushing into the fucking dirt. So much for catching me.

Yet somehow, Daemon manages to let out giggles while the crowd cheers. His arms tighten around me as I push myself up on his chest, "my," he blows silver hair out of his face, "I didn't actually think you'd do it."

"Fuck you," I snap and shove myself off him.

I don't even know where I'm even going, but I storm off anyway, feeling like the biggest idiot in the known galaxy.

But of course, Daemon is quick to get up and grab my arm. He speaks some High Valyrian bullshit, but I care little for it and pry my limb out of his clutch.

It seemed that was the wrong course of action though, cause the next thing I knew, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. The audience flourishes over the way he took me like a piece of meat.

I fucking hate it here.

Make no mistake, I did my due diligence and tried to wrangle out of his grip. But he was pumped with far too much adrenaline, and his inflated ego would not let him let me go.

Eventually, I got tired and just let it happen. The moment he put me down when we arrived at his chambers though, I shoved him off and distanced myself as much as I could, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Daemon responds in High Valyrian, which effectively pisses me off more.

"I don't have TIME to decode your dragon-heir bullshit, so quit it! I am not a toy!"

Daemon chuckles as he takes a towel and wipes his face, "no?"

"Look," I snap, "I know you're, like, touch deprived and emotionally constipated," I stretch my arm out, "I mean, your family-- our family is a fucking wreath, so you're bound to be fucked up in the head, but please," I press my palms together, "PLEASE just be normal until the end of the day, Dae- Prince Daemon."

Daemon laughs as I go off on him. He watches me for a moment, throws the towel to his bed, and tilts his head.

My chest heaves as we stare at each other. Instead of relaxing, I begin to grow more tense with every passing second. I take a deep breath, but it does nothing for my nerves when Daemon walks forward.

"The truth in the matter is," he raises a hand, "you need me."

My stomach drops when he yanks me by the waist. His violet eyes dart down to my heaving chest. He places his one hand on my collarbone, "shhh."

The feel of him pressing onto my flesh does the exact opposite of what he wants. But no-- with how the corner of his mouth curves upward, I think it's actually the exact reaction he wanted.

When I try to push him off, he pulls me tighter into him and repeats, "you need me."

My nostrils flare but I stop repelling him.

"You need me," he lifts his gaze, "but I don't. I want you, but you need me."

I clench my jaw tightly. I am unable to contain my flinch when his hand strokes my side. He continues, "you need me to open the gate for you and your friend come midnight, do you not?"

I turn away from him.

He nudges me and asks louder, "do you not?"

"Yes," I whimper as I shut my eyes.

He hums, "then," he takes my chin in his fingers, "you'll be what I want, riñītsos." Little girl. He raises his brows. "If say you are a toy, then you say, 'yes, my prince'. If I say you are a rug, then I expect you under my heel. If I say you are my dog, then you ought to bark," he releases my chin, "now, bark, my sweet."

I glare at him, "if you want a dog, I suggest you go up North." I push him by his chest.

He laughs. He grabs my arms and pushes me back. I panic when I fumble on my feet and find myself pressed against a wall. "You're right, riñītsos. How wrong of me to liken dragon fire to dog breath."

I gasp when my back hits the wall.

"A shame," he tucks my silver hair behind my ear, "your parents did not give you violet eyes."

I am frozen in my spot when his lips brush against mine. My breath hitches when he simultaneously presses me back with his chest and pulls me forward with his hands.

I don't kiss him back. My brain was in a glitch. He doesn't seem to mind and feasts on my lips. The moment I have the wits to move, he pulls away and whispers, "worry not," he kisses my jaw, "I'll give your babes violet eyes."

Hearing that really snapped me out of my trance.

I finally turn away from him. It does not deter him though, and he makes due with kissing my neck. He moans against me, "you smell divine."

"I-it's called," I push him back, "personal hygiene."

He snakes his arms around me, "you were sent to me by the gods."

"I travelled here by accident!"

"And I plan to make good of this happy accident."

I fight him off when he claws my skirt up. I weigh my chances with screaming and with talking sense into him. I ponder of telling him my vagina is cursed, but then I think he'd be into that.

"Don't fight it," Daemon grabs my wrists, "I will quench the fires of the Targaryen blood in you that calls out to me."

"My blood does not call out to you!" I whimper.

"You may be Gryffindor by name, but you will be a Targaryen once I am done with you."

And then the doors slam open. "Your grace!"

"Harwin," I call out to the man that burst in.

Daemon growls and but does not pull away or turn, "I'm busy."

"It's Lady Hufflepuff," Harwin speaks through strained breath.

"Who?"

My stomach drops, "wait!" I push Daemon harder, "what happened to Libby?"

Daemon finally looks over his shoulder with annoyance, "what happened?"

Harwin takes a moment to respond. The dread that courses through me makes me strong enough to shove Daemon off. He grunts as I do so. I walk over to the dark haired man, "Harwin."

He clenches his jaw and turns to his feet, "I took her to the privy. She said she was having... trouble using it and that I should call a servant to help. So... I fetched a servant, but when I returned," he clears his throat, "she was gone."

I bring my hand to my mouth.

Daemon walks up behind me, "you lost a woman in King's Landing, Strong?"

"I- I did not think much of it at first," Harwin turns to Daemon, "at first I thought she may have just finished and was playing a trick on me," he glances to me but looks away at once, "but then I saw her contraption on the ground-"

I gasp.

"And then I saw a shoe... and then her headscarf-"

"Dear gods, Libby," my voice strains.

"She was taken by a group of three men," Harwin speaks sternly, "I know not for, but they've since regret their decision."

"And Libby!" I jump and grab his arm, "where is she now?!"

Harwin feels guilt eat away at him when he catches my distraught expression. He turns to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "she's being attended to by the maesters in the ward-"

I dash to the door, intent on reaching her, though I had no idea where I was going.

"It's this way!" Daemon calls.

When I turn to see where he meant, he was already right behind me. He grabs my arm and leads me down the hall.

The moment we get to the ward, I run around and look for Libby. I am shocked solid in my place when I see the cot she is laid upon. My hands slap to my face upon catching her messy hair, dirty skin, and tattered clothes. Her waist was bound in bandages, but that didn't prevent the red to seep through from her side.

I drop to my knees and crawl all the way over to her. I yelp when I feel how cold her hands are. Hot tears burn down my cheek, "Libby, please!"

My breathing becomes more erratic.

"I've spoken to the maesters," Daemon's voice sounds from behind.

"Fucking tetanus, fucking bacterial shock-"

"They said she lost some blood but she will recov-"

"SHUT UP!" I snap and get to my feet, "YOU GET A FUCKING FEVER HERE AND YOU DIE!" I point an accusing finger, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

"ME?" Daemon snaps back, "that Strong fool was the one that took his eyes off her!"

"If you had just let us stay in your chambers like I begged you to-- but no! You wanted us to watch your stupid fucking game, you EGOTISTICAL BASTARD!"

He steps forward and barks back, "she still would have needed to go to the privy, you whining nitwit!"

"Why did they even take her?!" I whine.

Daemon does not respond.

"I do not contest that the fault is mine," another voice speaks.

Daemon and I turn to Harwin. His hands are linked in front of him, and only then do I realize they were bloody. More tears gush down my face when the man continues, "it was my duty to keep her-"

"It doesn't matter now, does it!?" I wail, waving my hands around. I fall back on my knees and turn to Libby. Her blue hair was stuck on her sweaty skin. And as I wiped her forehead, it felt like a rehash of last night, except worse. I sob, "nothing's gonna change the fact she got fucking stabbed."

Daemon looks from me to Harwin, "what of the men that took her?"

"I killed them."

My expression drops as I turn to Harwin.

The two stare at each other for a moment.

"Well, we can't question the dead, now can we," Daemon mutters, "feed their corpses to Caraxes."

"W-wait," I feel bile rise up my throat, "did- did you actually kill them?"

Harwin looks at me but doesn't respond. He walks off when Daemon orders him to get a chair. I turn to Daemon and whimper, "he didn't actually kill them... did he actually kill them?"

Daemon nods, "he did," and grabs my arms, "do not insult yourself by sitting on the floor."

For once, I do not fight him back. I let him bring me to my feet. The moment I'm stood before him, he takes my cheeks and wipes my tears.

I shake my head, "I have to take her back."

Daemon raises his brows, "you would dare to move her in such a state?"

"It's the only way she will survive," I mumble through trembling lips.

The prince looks at me for a moment. Harwin finally brings a chair. He places it beside us then stations himself by the door. Neither Daemon nor I make a move for the chair. The former asks, "and you think you can carry her all the way back?"

"Daemon," I grab his arms, "I just have to get her back. Once I'm there, it'll be half the work done."

Daemon releases a breath. He takes my silver locks and fondles with the ends, "and what if I do not want you to leave."

Fuck. "Please," I beg, "please. We both know I don't belong here."

I can see it clearly. It was so clear that those words meant nothing to him. It was talking to a brick wall. I sigh and wipe my face, "I'll do what you want. Whatever it is, I'll do, as long as you let us go by midnight."

Daemon narrows his eyes.

I muster up the most sincere expression I am capable of.

"You will give me whatever I want?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, "yes... my prince."

He does not respond. Daemon turns from me to Libby. He pulls away and calls, "Strong."

"Your grace," Harwin responds.

"She could manage on the back of an ass, could she not?"

Harwin thinks for a moment then nods, "she could."

"Then fetch me an ass," Daemon says. Harwin promptly complies.

Daemon doesn't make me do anything besides sit on his lap while we watched Libby for the rest of the night. I knew in my gut that was not what he wanted out of me, but he didn't say otherwise and I didn't bring it up. Soon enough, it was midnight and there I, Daemon, Harwin, and Libby, sat on a donkey, stood before the open gate of the castle.

Rather than thinking this was stupid and it wasn't going to fucking work, I prayed under my breath to the Seven that we be delivered from this nightmare.

But every time I felt tranquil, the donkey made a sound and I just knew it had to go. What the hell was I going to do with the donkey when I got back to the city anyway?

I clutch the satchel containing our things around my shoulders, "I'll carry her instead."

Daemon and Harwin turn to me and mutter at the same time, "what?"

"I don't want to be responsible for the donk- the animal when I get there."

"Just leave the ass behind," Daemon mutters, rather annoyed.

I grab Libby, who I was already keeping upright, and wrap her arms around my shoulders, "I can carry her."

"No, you can't," Daemon mutters.

Harwin adds, "you are not in the right mind to do this."

"Just," Daemon add, "set the beast free when-"

"I can't just let a donkey loose in King's Landing, Daemon!" I snap, "now please! Help me-"

The bells begin to ring.

I immediately panic.

A surge of adrenaline helps me gather Libby onto my back. "Fucking hell," I grunt and try to fix her on me.

Daemon shakes his hand, "here, let me-"

"I GOT IT!" I scream as the sound of the bell tolling makes my entire body burn with agitation.

I shift Libby on my back one last time and beeline to the gate.

Harwin and Daemon watch. It's impossible to tell which of them is more skeptic in the moment.

I begin to struggle and nearly trip on the annoying skirts hindering my feet. Harwin steps forward, "watch your step."

Daemon eyes him in annoyance, "how helpful."

"Fuck," I panic and begin to walk faster towards the gate, "fucking hell, it's not even that far!"

I reach the large, tunnel-like gate and can't help but close my eyes, afraid that if I could see where I was going, it wouldn't work.

Then SPLAT! I fall face down on the ground.

I scream and immediately roll Libby off me, uncaring that it hurt me, that it hurt her, and quickly get on my feet. I drag her corpse-like body across the expanse and cry as I do so.

I was manic. I was delirious. The sound of the echoing bells did not help the situation at all. I couldn't stop pleading to the gods as I tugged my best friend across the ground. I couldn't even open my eyes because I didn't think my prayers were heard.

"Enough!" a voice calls.

No. NO! That was fucking Daemon. GET THE FUCK AWAY!

I feel someone mess with Libby's body. I screech and refuse to let her go, "LET US GO, DAEMON!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"NO!" I squeal, finally opening my eyes. I release Libby and lunge at Daemon when I spot him. We crumble to the ground. Once he's on his back, I begin to beat him. It unfortunately doesn't take long for him to overpower me.

"ENOUGH!" he barks, both my hands now trapped in his.

"LET US GO!" I cry.

Daemon shakes his head, "STOP IT!"

"WE'RE GOING BACK!" I try to punch my way out of his grip. It doesn't work.

"Look at me!" Daemon yells, "you dragged her through."

"Get off me!"

"You've done it!!"

I flinch when he shakes me.

"You did it!" Daemon exclaims as he sits up, hands cradling my shoulders, "we're in your time now."

I finally register his words. Daemon looks around, "when you said ruins, I expected an empty castle, not... ruins."

A gasp leaves me when I hear a loud roar from the sky. Daemon looks up when I do, and I calm down when I realize it was only an airplane.

"Was that a dragon?" Daemon asks.

"No," I pull away from him, "that's an-" wait. I stare at him. Daemon fucking Targaryen came back with me?

[cepetriwrites]

How to Tell Your Best Friend You're Fucking Her Uncle in 10 Easy Steps Chapter 4

Who's ready for delulu Alicent?

[luthien-under-bough]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

Tagged by @girlwithakiwi

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

97! I am scratching and clawing my way toward 100 this year.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

537,646 *probably at least 400k of that is Daemyra

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Almost exclusively House of the Dragon/ASOIAF since HOTD s1 aired and Daemyra consumed my life.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

i got a bad desire (baby i'm on fire) - Daemyra modern AU multi-chapter (WIP)

ain't nobody hurt you like i hurt you  - Daemyra modern AU multi-chapter (complete)

better not touch (i want it too much) - Daemyra modern AU multi-chapter (complete)

...anyone noticing a theme? 👀

I found some hate for you, just for show - Daemyra canon divergence oneshot

do you feel the hunger? - Daemyra canon divergence oneshot

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to all of them! Sometimes I get behind, but I usually get to them by the time I post a new chapter, at least.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhh probably i've looked at clouds from both sides now. Even though only one of the major characters dies, it somehow still feels angstier than the literal necrophilia fic where they both die.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I feel like most of my other fics have a happy ending? Both of the completed multi-chaps I linked above definitely do.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I occasionally get a rude comment, but I have no qualms about being a dick or just deleting/blocking. I have gotten a few tumblr anons that made me roll my eyes, but any hate I get has been firmly a THEM problem and not a ME problem. Haters stay pressed. 💅

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

It's a rare day when I do not write smut. I write all kinds. Since writing in the Daemyra fandom, my list of "hard no's" when it comes to writing has rapidly diminished; it seems like every other day I discover a new kink that makes my brain do a record-scratch. I started writing fic again in 2020, and published baby's first smut shortly thereafter, but it was fairly standard stuff. Now I'm like "well if you aren't literally digesting your lover, is it really romance??!"

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

The only crossover I've written is a House of the Dragon/Naked Attraction crackfic that infected my brain during the depths of binge of the latter show.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Only one that I know of - someone copy/pasted all of do you really feel alive without me into different chapters of their ""fic"".

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

for our blood is restless was translated into Russian here.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. My writing process is chaotic and inconsistent and I would not inflict that on another writer. I'm also very particular about what I do and do not want to write, as well as my prose, so I don't think co-writing is for me. If we don't like to break the rules of English grammar in the exact same way, I'm afraid we won't be able to get along.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I mean, I think it's pretty obvious. 😅 Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen (House of the Dragon) has only been my OTP for <2 years, but they are already my all time favorite. Prior to that, it was Dramione (Harry Potter), Cullen Rutherford/Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age: Inquisition), and Aloy/Avad (Horizon Zero Dawn).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Not technically a single WIP, but I always meant to add more stories to my collection of Cullen/Inquisitor Dragon Age fics (most of which I posted during Swoon June 2022). It's possible I'll experience another burst of inspo for that fandom when Dragon Age: Dreadwolf finally comes out, but I'm pretty firmly entrenched in Daemyra for the foreseeable future.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, characterization, ANGST. I think my smut is pretty hot. Idk I generally like everything about my writing. That's why I keep doing it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Uhhh anything to do with plotting or planning. We thrive on vibes here. ✌️

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Beyond the occasional word or phrase in High Valyrian for my HOTD/ASOIAF fics, I cannot be bothered. Italics and a dialogue tag do me just fine.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

This changes semi-regularly, but my current favorite is one that I'm actively writing - a Daemyra early marriage canon divergence (milk teeth). Also because I just re-read this the other night - surrender (a rare non-Daemyra HOTD fic).

No pressure tags: @anamazingangie, @ar-feyniel, @grandlovescheme, @crimson-tulip, @bluegoldrose

[lya-dustin]

I should be writing my wips and that crackfic where corlys claims the cannibal before the great council, but those aemond shitposts of him having the hots for daemon has made this conversation between Aemond and Aemma in shock and delight:

Aemma: so i noticed you got a little 'excited' whem Daemon beheaded that guy.

Aemond (who's hiding a boner as best as he can from his fake girlfriend) : what gave it away?

[zmediaoutlet]

Happy WW! Hope you're having an amazing day :) Question- do you have any fics that you love, that use a unique trope or circumstance that you never would have thought worked?

happy wincest wednesday, anonymous bud!

I'll try to angle at this two ways --

trope I never would have thought worked: marriage. I dooooo nooooot waaaaant a literal actual Sam-Dean wedding ever unless it's crackfic or a curse or something. If they're in like a band gazebo softly smiling at each other -- nononononono, no thank you. But! This one's a classic and I love it despite myself: Road to Shambala, by astolat. I have some thoughts about astolat's writing which I will keep mostly to myself, but this particular Sam just knocks me down with a feather. With how he's realized that there's no way out and he's determined to make that a good thing instead of a burden. It really presages a s10/11/12 Sam in a way that I love. Now, is an exchange of rings somewhat A Lot? Sure! But this is the only way I've ever seen it done sincerely that made me get all verklempt, and so I love it.

(Honorable mention goes, as always, to the very silly A Nice Day to Start Again, which is pure crack until it's not and also has a warm place in my heart.)

However, as far as unique trope or circumstance... That's really hard to think of, sunglasses friend! One thing about Supernatural as a fandom is that the text itself posits tons of insane AUs and circs and ways for Sam and Dean to be, and the thing is that Sam and Dean are wholly coherent inside those treatments. If someone asked me, I would never in a million years read an unrelated office AU -- like the idea fills me with sneer -- and yet there's the Smith/Wesson episode, just working perfectly and firing on pretty much all cylinders, right there in canon. So if someone is like 'ooh what if there was a fic where Dean turned into a whale' then like. Yeah, the show could do that. They turned Sam into a car. (And indeed that fic exists, thanks to kalliel.) So I'm less interested in trope 'innovation' but mostly in how fics can take things that I would not necessarily want for S&D, i.e. marriage, and twist and turn them around to a place where it feels in character and reasonable for the Winchesters that I know and love. And so many scenarios work! Make Dean a girl! Make Sam a tentacle creature! Make them Men of Letters or cowboys or give them daemons or make them dead! The show affords so much tapestry to find the threads of our boys in and read them true. It's very cool. :)