WetDog

The Hunger Games SI

The King Who Bore the Sword

Same old, someone from our world ends up in asoiaf, only to end up in the body of Daemon Waters - better known as Daemon I Blackfyre, the absolute Chad who should have been king. Some info for you readers: There is no magic, if there is a dragon it would start out from an egg no promises about adding one though, there is no others, or some other bull shittery, this fanfic follows the time period of when Daemon is born so yes you will watch him start out as a baby and what not. Our mc who ends up as daemon is not a Einstein, he won't be advancing the world, only thing he has is his bloodline being a (Targaryen) and his prowess, plus a few smaller things, he does not have a system but he won't need it as you will see why in the first chapter. Really going for that knight vibe here mc will wield a Bastard sword as his main weapon and will be a demon with it, for the people that don't know the sword Blackfyre is a Bastard sword. For the nerds, bro we don't have the full story about most of the life so a lot of this shit will just be yoloing it also due to the fact that the mc knows what is going down a lot of the history will be altered. Pretty much it, can't forget about the battles either they will be a big thing. Enjoy the G.O.A.T

The Greatest Dragon - HOTD/DOD

A sixteen-year-old Australian farm boy lies about his age and joins the war, chasing glory and escape. What he finds is a trench soaked in blood and silence, where orders mean death and courage is just another word for slaughter. He’s thrown into the third wave at the battle of the Nek, thirty metres of open ground between him and Turkish machine guns. The first two waves are butchered. His wave is called off mid-charge. Too late. Bullets tear through him. Shoulder. Leg. Gut. He drops in the dirt, bleeding out beside the bodies of men who never had a chance. His final breath is bitter. “Fuck this.” But death doesn’t take him cleanly. In the blackness beyond, something twists. Pulls. Stretches. His memories burn. His body unravels. And when he wakes, it’s not in Gallipoli. Not in Australia. Not even in his own world.