#me and lucy just casually creating these shenanigans

[throneshq]

          the  recent  attack  has  left  a  sour  taste  in  the  mouth  of  every  person  that’s  found  themselves  stuck  within  king’s  landing’s  walls.  as  to  be  expected,  of  course,  with  so  many  dead  and  so  many  more  facing  serious  injuries.  something  needs  to  be  done,  the  people  say,  someone  has  to  pay.  and  though  eyes  scrutinize  every  move  of  their  dragon  hosts,  fingers  are  eager  to  lay  blame  on  anyone  that  might  dare  to  say  the  wrong  thing  to  the  wrong  person.  no  one  knows  who’s  to  trust,  who  is  truly  friend  or  foe  and,  tired  of  walking  on  eggshells,  the  new  queen  regent  of  the  southern  kingdom  has  begun  a  series  of  interrogations  in  search  of  answers  for  the  death  of  the  king,  for  the  burning  of  her  kingdom.  every  noble,  lowborn,  and  member  of  staff,  including  the  targaryen’s  themselves  will  stand  before  her,  one  by  one,  in  great  hall  and  answer  her  questions,  and  she  will  not  rest  until  she  gets  the  answers  she  deserves.

         queen  regent  selina  targaryen  sits  square  upon  the  iron  throne,  flanked  on  either  side  by  the  hand  of  queen  and  the  lord  commander  of  the  queensguard.  their  questions  have  been  thought  out  carefully  and  there  is  a  heavy,  somber  feeling  as  the  first  person  comes  to  stand  before  her.  it’s  hard  to  say  if  they  will  offer  the  truth,  or  simply  more  lies,  but  there  is  only  one  way  to  find  out  and  the  interrogations  quickly  begin.

general information .

while  this  task  is  not  mandatory,  it  is  strongly  encouraged  that  you  participate  with  each  of  your  characters,  as  it  may  give  them  the  opportunity  to  get  something  off  their  chest,  or  point  their  fingers  in  someone  else’s  directions  to  get  the  attention  away  from  them.

you  will  have  approximately  two  weeks  to  answers  the  questions  below  in  whatever  kind  of  post  format  you’d  like.  consider  march  5th  to  be  a  tentative  end  date,  though  an  update  will  be  given  to  members  closer  to  this  time.

all  questions  should  be  answered  in  character,  and  each  character  should  have  their  own  standalone  post.  how  your  characters  answer  the  questions  is  entirely  up  to  you,  as  there’s  no  right  or  wrong  way,  merely  what  they  think  of  in  the  moment  !

be  sure  to  tag  your  tasks  as  #thronestask01  and  #thronesinterrogation  so  that  we  can  all  enjoy  your  answers  !

if  you  have  any  questions,  don’t  hesitate  to  reach  out.

the questions .

please  note  that  when  creating  your  posts  and  answering  the  questions,  each  question  must  be  answered  in  the  order  they  are  listed.  while  most  questions  pertain  to  this  plot  drop,  some  questions  do  pertain  to  the  previous  attack.

what  were  you  doing  the  morning  before  the  coronation  ?

did  you  leave  the  coronation  at  any  point  prior  to  it  beginning  or  during  it  ?  if  not,  did  you  see  anyone  that  did  ?

did  you  know  any  of  the  deceased  from  the  first  attack  ?  if  so,  please  describe  your  relationship  to  them.

where  were  you  at  and  what  were  you  doing  at  the  time  that  the  wanderers  aligned  ?  did  you  see  anything  suspicious  ?

what  action  did  you  take  when  the  fighting  broke  out  ?  did  you  run  and  hide,  or  did  you  fight  in  defense  of  the  southern  kingdom  ?

how  do  you  think  that  the  assailants  managed  to  get  over  the  walls  and  into  the  city  ?  do  you  believe  that  there  are  spies  living  among  us,  helping  them,  or  did  they  manage  it  of  their  own  accord  ?

what  do  you  know  about  the  murders  that  occurred  ?  do  you  have  have  any  reason  to  believe  they’re  tied  to  anyone  currently  within  the  capital  ?

did  you  know  any  of  the  deceased  personally  ?  if  so,  tell  us  of  your  relationship  to  them.

what  about  in  the  aftermath  of  the  attacks  ?  did  you  hear  or  see  anything  that  can  help  us  identify  who  should  be  held  responsible  ?

did  you  have  any  reason  to  want  king  lucaerys  dead  ?

did  you  have  reason  to  want  anyone  dead  ?

is  there  any  house  or  kingdom  that  you  suspect  has  a  hand  in  all  this  ?

is  there  any  other  information  you  have  for  us  ?

[qqueenofhades]

Ahem. As discussed, a prompt my good lady...Lucy and Flynn + fake married in Dubrovnik + the inevitable shenanigans...

Okay SO. On the plane over, there was something in the magazine about a website where tourists can go to Amsterdam and fake-marry a local for a day, so their new “spouse” can take them around the non-tourist parts of the city, and then they go their separate ways at dusk and it’s fun etc. I immediately decided that this needed a Garcy AU, for obvious reasons.

Lucy Preston wasn’t really planning on going to Croatia. In fact, she wasn’t exactly planning to go anywhere. But it’s been a rough few months to say the least – tenure meeting cancelled at Stanford, breaking up with Noah, Mom has to go back to the hospital for more tests and it isn’t looking good – and in a fit of late-night frustration, she decided to just fly somewhere over Thanksgiving break and forget about the clusterfuck that was her life for a bit. Somewhere warm, she wasn’t picky. She suggested that Amy go with her, but Amy had work and couldn’t get away, and by then, Lucy had already booked a ticket. She’s heard that Dubrovnik is beautiful, there is a university and a state archive there so she can theoretically disguise it as a research trip, and when she was running through the apparently deeply cursed Frankfurt airport to catch her connecting flight, a text popped up from Amy. Something that she thinks Lucy should try, just for shits and giggles. Some kind of app called Untourist.

Lucy took a look at it and decided that it was basically Tinder for tourists, even if the premise tried to be more classy than that. In short, you can pick a European city from the list (More Locations Coming Soon!, promises the popup), fill in some brief preference Q&As, and be matched with a local, who will fake-marry you in a ceremony complete with photos and then take you on a “honeymoon” for a day in the city. The idea is that you get to have a personal guide, explore places off the main drag – and presumably, if you hook up at the end, that’s a nice bonus, but not one that the app strictly advertises. It sees itself as promoting intercultural connections and lived experiences, rather than anything so ignominious as arranging casual sex with a hot foreigner. Apparently it got its start in Amsterdam, though, so this would not be surprising.

The split with Noah is still raw, and Lucy isn’t planning to use the app for that purpose – or indeed, at all. But after she has landed at the surprisingly tiny airport and has boarded the bus for the drive along the coast road to the city, she downloads it on a whim that she shouldn’t think through and decides it might be fun to have someone to travel with, even briefly. After she’s signed up, created a profile, and filled in her details, she is given two options to match with, and ends up going for the latter: Garcia from Dubrovnik. She thought about Marko from Zagreb, but his profile says that he’s a Dinamo Ultra, and she decided that she didn’t want to spend the day getting a crash course in the finer points of Croatian football hooliganism. Garcia it is, apparently.

Dubrovnik is insanely beautiful, with crystalline turquoise water lapping at towering medieval city walls (souvenir shops every few streets will proudly remind you that they filmed Game of Thrones here), palm trees, red-tiled roofs, old golden-stone buildings, winding side alleys, and sunlight that pours down as rich as olive oil. Since it’s November, it’s not quite as hot as in high summer, and the tourist rush is somewhat dimmed. Lucy sleeps late at her Airbnb high on a very steep side street, as the city is spread out over several hills on the side of the tall blue mountains that rise out of the water, and almost forgets that her fake wedding is today. She jumps out of bed, puts on some makeup (just because she’s not actually marrying the guy doesn’t mean she has to look completely trollish), grabs her bag, and heads down into town, following a winding alley of staircases that are probably going to be a pain to climb back up. She hopes this was a good idea. It was mostly to appease Amy, anyway. Can she cancel, or would that count as leaving Garcia at the (fake) altar?

What the hell, she’s here now, and maybe if she shows that she’s receptive to new experiences, the universe will give her a break. Lucy trots along the palm-treed square above the city walls, finds the door with the Untourist logo by the bell, and steps inside. “Dobro jutro,” she says, which is about all the Croatian she speaks, and most people have been happy to use English anyway. “I’m Lucy Preston, I have an appointment today?”

The slick Unreceptionist greets her, gives her a waiver to sign (bad experiences and/or unsatisfactory spouses are not their fault, any meeting beyond the day is done on personal terms, etc) and they await the arrival of her dashing groom-to-be. It is twelve minutes past their scheduled start time, and the Unreceptionist is making apologetic noises, when the door opens with a bit of a crash and a man who must be Garcia ducks in. He’s tall, dark, and craggy-handsome, probably in his forties, wearing aviator sunglasses, and clutching a takeaway coffee. He addresses the Unreceptionist in rapid Croatian, looks up, sees Lucy, and nods shortly. “Ah,” he says, switching to English. “Right, you’re here. Let’s go.”

“Sir,” the Unreceptionist says, looking as if he’s wondering if Garcia himself read the details and/or the release forms before signing up. “You’re supposed to…?”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to have the wedding ceremony first?”

“I’m supposed to have the what?”

At that, Lucy winces. Feeling as if this might be an opportune moment to interrupt the conversation, and wondering if it’s too late to switch to Marko from Zagreb and risk dying at an Eternal Derby game, she stands up. “Hi,” she says. “I’m Lucy Preston?”

“I know.” Garcia glances at her briefly, up and down, and then away. “What’s this about a wedding?”

“That’s the whole point of the app,” Lucy says pointedly. “Fake-married, take me to places that aren’t touristy, then at the end of the day, go our separate ways?”

Garcia looks briefly pole-axed, then seems to decide that right, well, this is on him for failing to read the terms and conditions. “Fine,” he says impatiently. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Lucy’s cheeks sting. Making a mental note to give him a zero of five stars on any feedback form that she might have to fill in to rate her experience today, she follows him into the back, where they are joined in a very non-legally-binding ceremony, have their photo taken (Garcia looks like this is a real funeral rather than a fake wedding) and finally are released into the wild, as Garcia (who is a good foot taller than her) strides ahead without waiting. When Lucy runs to catch up, he says, “Nobody told me there was a wedding involved.”

“Did you even read what they wanted?” Lucy’s tone is slightly waspish, but then, he isn’t exactly showering her in that supposedly famous Slavic hospitality. The sweet lady at the Airbnb was much nicer than this. “It was right there in the entire premise. If you don’t want to spend a day taking me around the city, fine, but maybe next time, try to actually – ”

“No,” Garcia says abruptly. “You’re here now. Let’s go.”

With that, he strides off toward the gate in the towering walls, down into the Stari Grad. Lucy thinks the view from up there must be spectacular, but she’s not actually going to get a chance to find out, because Garcia derides them as too touristy and refuses to pay 200 kuna to go up them. (This is something like $30, so it clearly is a lot, but the city sees no reason not to profit off all the Game of Thrones fans.) Nor does he think much of the main drag, the cathedral square, the rector’s palace, or any of the other usual sights. He says that Lucy can call him Flynn, but doesn’t explain why. She thinks it’s his last name, but honestly, she can’t be sure. He has the social skills of a broken-down dump truck.

Finally, since there isn’t much of Dubrovnik, at least the old town, that isn’t touristy, Lucy persuades Flynn to let them go up the walls, though by the face he makes at the cashier as he pays for their tickets, the poor man might be found floating face-down in the ocean later. They climb up to the winding ramparts, gazing out over the Adriatic to one side and the crowded, tiled roofs on the other, and on one steep section, Lucy loses her footing and nearly falls. She wouldn’t have gone over the edge, there are plenty of barriers, but Flynn flashes out a hand and steadies her. It’s the first remotely human or non-dickish thing he’s done, and she raises an eyebrow. “Thanks.”

Perhaps sensing by her acerbic tone that he has not been the world’s most satisfactory fake husband to date, Flynn has the grace to blush, or at least look somewhat chagrined. “I’d definitely get in trouble if you died.”

“Thanks,” Lucy says again, even more tartly. “Guess it’s a good thing for you that you have good reflexes?”

“I fought in the Homeland War.” Flynn glances away. It’s the first personal thing he’s shared about himself, in a casual, offhand way that makes it sound no more remarkable than getting milk from the store. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Lucy glances at him. He’s made it clear that he’s not here for the fake marriage, let alone small talk, but she paid a decent amount of money to be here with this tall idiot and he can just suffer it. “Are you from Dubrovnik?”

“I was born in Šibenik.” Flynn doesn’t break stride, obliging Lucy to trot to keep up with him. “Lived a few places around the country. It was Yugoslavia back then, though. War started in 1991.”

“I know,” Lucy says. “I mean, I’m a historian, so I was recently doing some work on 1989 and the U.S. response to the dissolution of the Iron Curtain. Technically, Yugoslavia wasn’t Soviet, right?”

“No,” Flynn says, with a sort of grim pride. “Tito and Stalin hated each other. It was…. sort of an in-between place, I suppose. We didn’t need exit visas, there was a certain amount of social freedom, and Tito liked to market it as neutral, a third country between East and West, combining the best of both and the worst of neither. Of course, he was a dictator, but supposedly a benevolent one. Most people liked him. My childhood was – ” He stops. “Well, my mother was American, anyway. Maybe that was what drew her here. Running away.”

Lucy glances up at him. She has a sense that Flynn doesn’t often talk much about his past, and decides that since they are, after all, only fake-married, she doesn’t need to pry. However, since the subject of his mother has arisen, she holds back as best she can, not wanting to dump the fraught subject of Carol Preston on a strange man who has only just met her and treated her one step above gum stuck to his shoe, but finally needs to talk about it with someone who isn’t Amy. She still isn’t sure Flynn gives a damn, but too bad for him. She mentions that it’s been hard, with the Stanford legacy and the cancer and the expectations that she would accept Noah’s proposal, and she just – well, she doesn’t know. Maybe Lucy understands a bit of Flynn’s mother, whoever she was, whyever she came here. Maybe she too was, or is, running away. Even if she has to fly all the way back to San Francisco at the end of this week, some part of her would be more than happy to fling all her responsibilities to the wind, move into some picturesque old flat in one of those tiny streets, and stay.

They descend the walls after completing their circuit, and Flynn deigns to buy her lunch at a small cafe where the menu is only in Croatian and a sign informs customers that they don’t take euros, only kuna. Lucy allows him to order something for her, and they sit there eating in semi-awkward silence. Then Flynn says, apropos of nothing, “Maria.”

“What?”

“My mother’s name.” He shrugs. “It was Maria Tompkins. She was from Houston. She moved to Yugoslavia in 1970, after the death of her first husband and son. She was traveling through Europe, I don’t know that she intended to stay here, but she met my father, so she did.”

“Oh.” Lucy wonders what it would have been like here in the seventies. Probably still beautiful, though much less developed. So Maria Tompkins fell in love, that was what made a young American woman go Red, a move that must have been regarded dimly by her friends and family back in Texas. With that sort of tragedy shadowing her past, maybe it was easier to cut all ties, to get a new passport, to learn a new language, and never look back. Lucy feels a sudden pang of sympathy with this other woman, this unknown fellow traveler, who too found herself in this corner of the world wanting to leave it all behind. Lucy has responsibilities at home, not least her job (even if they didn’t give her tenure, or at least it’s very much in academic bureaucracy limbo), her sister, her sick mother, all the encumbrances and trappings of real life. She can’t do what Maria did, no matter how much she wants to. And for some reason completely unknown to her – it certainly isn’t the pleasure of Flynn’s company – she does.

They finish lunch and head out. It’s warm enough for November that Flynn suggests they can go for a dip, though he gives her a no-clearly-not look when Lucy naively thinks this will be at Banje Beach, the main spot just south of the walls. He leads her up to the street, where they find his car and get in. It’s an Audi, and she wonders what exactly he does for a living. He has a habit of scanning their surroudings, casually flicking his gaze at passersby, in a way that she doesn’t think stems from his military service alone. In fact, she’s starting to wonder if he joined the Untourist app to case the city and/or scope out people without it being too suspicious. Maybe it’s better for everyone if she doesn’t ask about his job. He might have to suffocate her and bundle her up in a black plastic garbage bag in the boot.

Flynn, it transpires, drives like a bit of a maniac, a habit he shares with most of the other road users (especially the scooters and motorcycles). Lucy has already noticed that Croatians seem to have a rather laissez-faire attitude toward personal safety, as evidenced by their tendency to stand outside guardrails overlooking steep drops, walk the wrong way along busy highways, dart across roads in front of oncoming traffic, and jury-rig anything that isn’t actively falling apart. When she mentions this to Flynn, he shrugs. “Slavs are like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Especially Croatians. Though if you think we’re bad, you should meet the Poles.”

Lucy laughs despite herself, since that’s the first time Flynn has loosened up to flash any bit of actual humor. Well, that’s not quite true; he is remarkably sassy, has a sarcastic comment for most occasions and especially anything involving a tourist making a fool of themselves, but this is the first time that his humor has seemed gentler, more like he’s actually enjoying himself and poking a bit of self-deprecating fun rather than lashing out at the world. They drive along the cliff road for several miles in silence, until Lucy asks, “When did you move to Dubrovnik?”

“About…” Flynn hesitates, and she senses that there’s more riding on the answer to that question than he wants to let on. “Well, I lived in Zagreb until 2014.”

“And you moved here after that?”

“More or less.” Flynn adjusts the rearview mirror, which doesn’t really need it. After a long pause he says, “My wife and daughter died in 2014. I came here for – well, I didn’t want to stay there anymore.”

“I’m….” Lucy feels taken aback, almost guilty that she’s been so derisive of his inability to read app terms and conditions, his clear aversion to the whole fake-married part. Not that they’ve really been acting like it, anyway, but still. She can imagine it wouldn’t be easy for her, if that ever happened, to stand up and play-act some stupid charade for an American tourist hiring you like a beast of burden, not when you’d had the real thing, not when it was gone. “Garcia,” she says, the first time she’s used that since he told her to call him Flynn. She has a sense that he prefers that, that Garcia is some place too personal where he doesn’t let people go, not any longer. “I’m sorry.”

He glances at her, and for a moment she thinks he’ll snap at her, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes on the road, navigating the tight turns with ease, until at last he says, “I’m sorry I haven’t been very much fun.”

Lucy opens her mouth by polite reflex to say that he has, and settles for a noncommital hum. Flynn seems to sense that while he might have worked his way up from zero stars, he’s still a way off from five, and parks the Audi in a pullout. They descend a narrow cliff path to the sea, he reaches out to catch her arm when her feet skid again on the pebbles, and Lucy decides she should probably warn him that she’s clumsy before she really does accidentally kill herself. But if she fell into the sea from here, she has an unaccountable sense that he’d dive in after her, no matter how odd and brusque and grumpy he is. It’s less clear whether this is because he’s starting to like her a little, or because it would be an insult to his professional competence. Maybe he’s in the Mafia.

They reach a small quay where a catamaran is tied up, Flynn strides to it and produces two life jackets, and once Lucy has climbed aboard, he swings on, undoes the ropes, and angles the sails out into the wide blue water, endless as a reflected sky. It must be a busy harbor in summer, and there’s still a decent boat traffic now: ferries, jet-skis, a few sailboats and pleasure yachts. Lucy holds on tight as Flynn carves an expert white wake. “Is this your boat, then?”

“No,” Flynn says. “But I borrow it from time to time.”

“Did you – ” Lucy gives him a very narrow stare. “Did you steal this boat?”

“No!” Flynn looks miffed that she would ask. “I know the owner, he lets me use it when I want to. What kind of man do you think I am?”

Lucy opens her mouth, starts to answer, and stops. Truth is, she isn’t sure. An hour ago she would have said a raging, self-absorbed dick with no social skills and possibly black-market employment, and parts of that are still true, but the rest, well… she can’t say exactly. He keeps letting slip these odd, vulnerable parts of him, almost in spite of himself. His past in the war, his mother running away from her old life, his dead wife and daughter, everything else. She isn’t certain what she thinks of him, exactly, but she isn’t wishing that she picked Marko from Zagreb anymore. If nothing else, Flynn is complicated, and challenging, and oddly easy to talk to, and he hasn’t told her to shut up about the family/work/life drama that she occasionally returns to venting about. Lucy thinks she’ll take that, at least. 

She looks at his hands, large and sun-brown and expertly pulling and tying the knots to trim the sail, as he pulls them to a bobbing halt in the sparkling water and asks if she wants to swim. Lucy didn’t put on her bathing suit under her clothes, but she doesn’t want to go to the bother of making him drive all the way back to the Airbnb. So she strips off her shirt and jeans, and, in just her bra and underpants (hey, they’re married, even fakely), she dives in.

The water is chillier than she expected – this is the southern Mediterranean, it’s never cold no matter the season, but it is November, and she splutters and gasps as she bobs to the surface. Flynn, observing from the high-and-dry comfort of the catamaran, smirks at her, and Lucy gives him the finger. “You dick,” she shouts. “You could have warned me.”

Flynn shrugs, apparently utterly untroubled either by this accusation or by her attitude; indeed, he grins as if he appreciates this feistiness, her willingness to talk back at him and tell it like it is. Lucy spends so much time biting her tongue around absolutely everyone else that this reaction is both unexpected and deeply liberating, and once she’s swum around the catamaran a few times and adjusted to the water temperature, she takes a deep breath and dives down under the pontoons. Then she surfaces on the far side, reaches up, and just as Flynn senses danger and whips around, she grabs him by the back of the shirt and jerks him backward.

He’s wearing a life jacket, of course, so he doesn’t go too far under, but the expression on his face is worth every penny that she paid to the stupid app. He shakes his wet hair like a dog as he surfaces, and she has to say, he looks really good while doing it. “Excuse me,” he says, in a tone of deep umbrage. “Who told you that it was a good idea to start a marriage off by throwing your husband in the drink?”

“Maybe if I’m drowning you for the life insurance,” Lucy shoots back, before she can stop herself. She has no idea who this woman is, who has gone from being exasperated and shut off with Flynn to – well, she did in fact just throw him in the ocean, but there’s definitely something different about their dynamic now. It wouldn’t be a stretch to call it flirty, whether or not this is listed in Untourist’s terms and conditions (and as well established, Flynn did not read them anyway). “After all, I think we can say that you deserve it. Tragic boating accident?”

Too late, she wonders if this is a bad idea to joke about, since she doesn’t actually know how his wife and daughter died (she hopes it wasn’t that, anyway) but Flynn actually laughs, and it transforms his whole face. They spend a very enjoyable forty minutes swimming around, splashing each other, and hanging onto the side of the catamaran and letting their legs sway in the current. They’re close alongside each other as they do, Lucy is conscious of only being in her wet underwear (it’s not like he can see anything while she’s submerged, but still), and something passes between them as their eyes meet. His throat moves as he swallows, and after a moment too long, he looks away.

They climb back on the boat, Flynn looses the sail and steers them back toward land, and they disembark, Lucy once more watching for investigative purposes as he ties up. They dry off and she pulls on her damp clothes, as Flynn decorously turns his back and waits until she is done. Then they tramp up the bluff to the car (Lucy was thinking about retiring here, since it’s warm and sunny and beautiful and all that, but if she is elderly, all the climbing might be too much) and drive back toward the town center. The sun is getting low, her paid-for day is almost done, and despite the total disaster that was it starting out, Lucy is oddly reluctant for it to do so. As Flynn pulls up in front of the Untourist office, she says convulsively, “Maybe we should… I don’t know. I think they’re closed, anyway. You don’t have to drop me off here.”

Flynn glances at her, then considers it. He could offer to just take her back to her Airbnb (those streets really were not designed for sane drivers, and Lucy can see why tiny Smart cars are popular around here, but Flynn would absolutely not fit into one) and he still might. Then he says, “Well, technically, the day isn’t over. Do you suppose I could take you out for dinner?”

“You….” Lucy coughs. “I suppose you could.”

They find parking, and walk down into the old town, as the moon is rising over the walls, the towers are floodlit, the city gleams in the cooling dusk like its nickname, the “Pearl of the Adriatic,” and they find another cafe where the clientele is mostly local. They linger late over dinner, and Flynn says that he will in fact drive her back when they’re finally done, and as she’s about to undo her seatbelt and get out, Lucy hesitates. Then she screws up her courage, leans over, and kisses him very fast on the cheek. “Thank you,” she says. “I had – I really did have a great time.”

Flynn looks as surprised as her to hear it, but somehow and shyly gratifeid as well. A fugitive smile plays at the corner of his mouth, tentative, tender. For a moment, she thinks he might be about to kiss her back for real, but he clears his throat and holds out his hand instead. “Er,” he says. “Thank you, Dr. Preston.”

Lucy hesitates, fighting her disappointment, and shakes it back. Then she steps out of the car and unlocks the door of the apartment, as he waits to see that she gets inside without random Ragusan fiends materializing from the shrubbery. Even when she does step in, the car idles a few more moments, and she glances back, wondering – or perhaps it’s only hoping – that he’s chastising himself for letting her walk away. Then the car starts again, she can see his dark figure sitting too stiff and straight at the wheel, and she watches until the taillights vanish around a steep turn, and fade into the night.

[hawkland]

Dear RarePair Creator

Thank you for offering one of my requests! I’m very excited to see what you will create, no matter which of my requested ships you go for.  It’s all under the cut.

General Likes:

Vacation/travel stories. Being unable to travel this past year+ thanks to covid-19 has me desperate to explore and live vicariously through my favorite characters! So I’d love a story involving travel to somewhere new (to them). It could be a romantic getaway/honeymoon trip to somewhere special - and I love it when an author “takes me” to a favorite city/place of their own. Or two friends just going on an escapade together, maybe one sensing the other needs some time away from a stressful situation or workplace.

Smutty likes: I love extended kissing scenes, frottage, light restraint play, sharing-one-bed-for-~reasons~-ooops-how-did-we-wake-up-cuddling, bathing/caretaking an injured partner-turns-erotic, desperate/reunion sex.

Canon-divergent AUs - I’m always good with fix-its, shifts in canon that only change one thing and see what happens next or instead.

Cooking & food as an act of caretaking/showing affection - I love it when a character tries to prepare a favorite meal for their loved one (whether they succeed or not!) Food as a symbol of love or desire, meals as a time for opening up/having heartfelt discussions, etc.

Hurt/comfort scenarios - caretaking, desperately trying to save a loved one, confessions brought on by altered states/fear of imminent death...love them all!

Wingfic - for any of my angel ships and requests. Love stories and art involving their wings - as erogenous zones, needing TLC after an injury or molting.

Do Not Wants:

A/B/O dynamics, mating heats. (I do like Supernatural fics that explore Castiel and the angels having bird-like behaviors and instincts, however.)

animal abuse/death

anything related to pregnancy/childbirth/kidfic

formalized BDSM relationships

scat/watersports

unrequested alternative-universe scenarios such as high school/mundane/genderswap/coffee shop/fantasy/etc. 

Completely sad endings/permanent character death or injury that isn’t part of canon

Rape/non-con between requested characters. Dubious consent is fine in situations like magic spells/possession/fuck-or-die, however.

SUPERNATURAL

Well, I’m a hopeless Casgirl if it’s not obvious from my requests. I just want my angel to be happy and get some of the love and affection he deserves.

Castiel/Indra (Supernatural) - This is kind of a silly one, but Indra the day-drinking playground guard was one of my favorite one-off angel characters. Poor guy stuck by his lonesome as Heaven is failing and not doing a good job of getting drunk. I kind of like the idea of Cas stopping by every once in a while just to talk to him, maybe try to get some gossip on Heaven but also simply for the company. Heck, maybe Cas drags him away for a little gay angel adventure! To show him he can have some fun on Earth too, beyond the play set (though, some kinky fun on the ladders and slide wouldn’t be a bad idea either.)

Castiel/Mick Davies (Supernatural) Castiel/Mick Davies/Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Cas and Mick absolutely deserved at least a one-off hot sex fling. Or even something more than that? I’d love to see them working some kind of case together and Mick slowly getting Cas to open up and trust him. Give me an AU where Mick doesn’t die, or perhaps Cas visiting him in Heaven? (Could be post-canon when Jack has brought back Cas to help him, but before Dean dies?)

For the threesome, would love Mick somehow working on getting Dean to admit his feelings for Cas by setting up a situation for them to need to have sex all together. Or a fuck-or-die situation where Mick is perfectly happy to be in the middle of a Dean & Cas sandwich while Dean is freaking out over the whole thing.

Castiel/Mary Winchester (Supernatural) - watching season 12 gave me weird Mary/Cas vibes at times, I don’t even know. But maybe it’s something about them both being “displaced” individuals - Cas always struggling to understand human behavior and emotions, Mary struggling to figure out the modern world and how to be a mother to two now grown men. I’d enjoy something exploring that, or seeking mutual comfort during the time when Dean & Sam are in prison and seemingly lost to them.

Castiel/Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester (Supernatural) - Can’t go wrong with Purgatory threesome smut, especially if there’s some jealousy and one-upmanship between Cas and Benny over Dean. It could have been fun seeing them interact post-Purgatory, too, maybe in an AU where Benny doesn’t end up dying/returning to Purgatory. Where it’s taken a long time for Cas to fully warm up to the vampire but eventually they find they have a lot in common besides loving Dean. (Both rejecting, to a large extent, who they are supposed to be as angel and vampire and instead choosing human connection?)

Anael/Castiel (Supernatural) - I like these two as casual (fallen) angel friends/fuck buddies. Just the idea that Cas has this one angel friend who is off doing her own thing, like he is, and they may not see eye-to-eye but they have a respect for each other’s choices and ways of doing things.  So I’d love a story where they’re maybe working some kind of case/investigation together and, oh yeah, just happen to have sex because they’re both lonely and enjoy the connection even if it isn’t anything super serious.  Alternatively, I wouldn’t mind something angsty set post 15x03 in the divorce arc—Cas goes to Anael when he’s at his lowest, maybe even hopeful that somehow she can help get Jack back? Or ease his pain? And it ends up turning into physical/sexual comfort.

Castiel/Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester (Supernatural) - I love the chaos twins Cas & Sam fucking around and finding out! And maybe needing Rowena to help them get out of some stupid bad sex/magic bind they’ve gotten themselves into. Or, Rowena and Sam are trying to work a spell together but they need a “special ingredient” that only an angel can provide...good thing they have their good buddy Cas around to help out...

CROSSOVER FANDOMS

Castiel (Supernatural TV)/Amenadiel (Lucifer Netflix)

This is one ship where I wouldn’t mind some bonding over being dads/kidfic surrounding Cas being Jack’s dad and Amenadiel being Charlie’s dad? Like, maybe they actually bond/work together as some dark force/being is crossing dimensions to kill nephilim? Otherwise any kind of situation where one gets transported to the other’s universe and is shocked by how different it is, and they grow closer while working to sort things out.

Castiel (Supernatural TV)/Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer Netflix)

Cas gets stuck in Lucifer’s world and can’t believe this version of Luci is actually...kind of nice? Understanding of why Cas didn’t want to just be a soldier for Heaven but found his own way with humanity?

Castiel (Supernatural TV)/Dean Winchester (Supernatural TV)/Lucifer (Lucifer Netflix)

More universe hopping shenanigans. Maybe Cas & Dean are tying to summon their Lucifer to trap him (or to get something they need for a spell to locate/save  Jack from something)...and they end up with this other Lucifer instead? And he’s so charming and different they just can’t resist a little threesome fun. Or maybe Lucifer orchestrates to get Cas & Dean together via a threesome when he sees how much they’re pining for each other.

LAW & ORDER: SVU

John Munch/Odafin “Fin” Tutuola 

Munch/Fin is one of my eternal OTPs so I’m forever happy to see something new featuring them! I’m always good for procedural/case-fics where they get together, or their established relationship is/puts them in danger. And this is one request where I’d love to read some AU-Genre or setting shift, reimagining them in some other situation besides police work. I’ve always loved the idea of John hosting a conspiracy/weird news radio show or podcast, and Fin as someone completely skeptical but who gets wrapped up in one of John’s mysteries. Or John as the owner of a bar somewhere that Fin is one of his regulars, and over time their friendship unexpectedly develops/deepens into something more.

THE POLICE

Stewart Copeland/Sting (The Police) Stewart Copeland/Sting/Andy Summers (The Police)

Yeah I’ll always request these ships even though I know it’s a long shot to find anyone else as obsessed about them as I am. Really anything at all whatsoever would make me happy for Sting/Stewart or S/S/A: Reunion Tour-era fic, early punk days before they grew successful, soulmate AUs… (soulmate trio, anyone?)

I’d also love a spooky story where they’re on tour/on the road somewhere and end up in a haunted hotel. Or their tour bus/van breaks down in the middle of nowhere and they have to seek shelter in an abandoned house or farm or something…and supernatural weirdness ends up affecting them or bringing them together.

HOMICIDE: LIFE ON THE STREET

Kay Howard/John Munch (Homicide: Life on the Street)

Kay/John is another one of my longtime comfort OTPs; I just love them both so much and the fun contrast they present. Honestly H:LOTS is one of my all-time favorite television series, period, and I’m always happy to see more fic for it! I’d love any kind of case-fic/action-type scenario where one or both of them is injured or in danger. The stress of the situation leads to a confession of or acting on feelings. Another idea would be a post-series fic where perhaps Kay comes to New York, needing John’s help to solve an old cold case (or one that’s crossed state lines to NY). Now that they’re no longer working together they have a chance to explore feelings like they never had before?

This is a ship where I’d also definitely love that food-as-comfort trope, too: I tend to see Munch as someone who has a secret knack for being a good cook, so maybe he makes something special for Kay when she’s sick/recovering from something and it reveals a side of John she never knew or saw before.