#ally's quick line

[fanwarrior321]

one of my favorite parts from the enwoodening quangle was this very quick interaction between amanda and caramelinda:

C: there is only one way for us to undo the quangle and save calorum

A: kill everyone

C: what??

[wildflowercryptid]

WHY YOU SHOULD VOTE FOR GORDIE IN THE PKMN TRANS SWAG BRACKET!

hi, gordie was one of the characters i submitted to the bracket so i'm here to explain why you should support him in the @pkmntransswagbracket!

not only is he one of the few examples of fat rep in the bracket (and the pokémon franchise in general,) he's canonically one of the strongest trainers in galar — so much so that many believe that he has the potential to become the region's champion. (he even typically beats raihan when facing him in the champion cup rematches.) very swagful.

he's also has a massive fanbase in-universe and is super dedicated to making them happy by doing fan events and giving out autographs, showing how much their support means to him.

a major element of his character is his history with his mother, melony. despite being raised with the expectation of him becoming an ice-type trainer like his mother, he rejects this in favor of training rock types in the hopes of finding his own path to greatness outside of her influence. a heated battle between the two results in their relationship becoming strained and them rarely speaking to each other, which melony herself admits is due to her making assumptions as to what is right for gordie and forcing those assumptions onto him. this could be seen as an allegory for the trans experience and the struggles of dealing with well-meaning, yet nonunderstanding parents.

it's a very common headcanon amongst gordie lovers that he is trans.

have you seen how he dresses? would a cis guy mod their shirt so that it has a deep v-neck? no, my man has had top surgery and wants to show that off. as he should.

he does back flips before every battle he participates in, do you know freaking cool that it? only a trans man can be that cool, let's be real.

besides all the other examples i've given... he just has those trans masc vibes, ya know?

and those are the major reasons why i think you should support gordie in the bracket! honestly, i really love gordie and having him a comfort character has actually helped me in my own gender journey so i hope ya'll can appreciate his trans swag as much as i do. even if you don't vote for him, i hope that this post might encourage people to look into him more. he's a super underappreciated character and i'd love to see more people come to like him.

[youaremysunshine-court]

can't wait till June 4th to find out whether the new government is going to be further oppressing minority religions or chucking money at them in a vague attempt to "help"

[entitled-fangirl]

When it matters most.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!wife!reader

Summary: Aemond goes to Winterfell to recruit his sister and her dragon for the Greens. Cregan will not allow that.

A/n: based on an ask!

Masterlist

...........................................

"DRAGON!"

Y/n and Cregan make eye contact, immediately standing from their seats at the table. 

Y/n runs to the window, while Cregan makes quick work of tying his cloak and moving to the door. 

Vhagar. 

She rushes after her husband, not caring for the proper clothing to shield the cold. 

She makes quick work of falling in step with him, grabbing his arm. 

Cregan's jaw clenched, a fear evident in his eyes. "Stay indoors."

"No."

Cregan's eyes close and he stops walking. "I said. Stay. Here."

"It is my brother. I will not let you go alone."

He takes a long and steady breath as he turns to her. His hands cup her face, "My beautiful wife, I do not care if it is our fiercest enemy or our greatest ally, you will stay indoors until I deem it safe for you."

A defeated look came to her eyes as Cregan released her. He gave her a final look before continuing on his path.

She watched him go, her gut wrenching with each step that he took.

Cregan had declared the North an ally of the Blacks only two moons ago. It made no sense for Aemond to suddenly appear in enemy territory.

She moved back to the dining hall, watching with bated breath from the window. Though she could see nothing now, she hoped that perhaps she'd gain a glimpse of what was to happen.

Soon, a servant entered the room, "Princess, Prince Aemond is within the castle walls."

Her blood ran cold. She turned her head to the servant. "In… Indoors?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Where?"

"I do not know." "And Cregan?"

"I am unsure."

She rested a hand on her forehead. "Very well, thank you."

The servant left, shutting the large doors behind her. 

If something had happened to the Queen, Jace would have written to her. She was sure of it. Someone would have.

But to ride straight to Winterfell was bold of Aemond regardless.

Riding into any enemy territory was bold. 

"Where is she?" Aemond's voice echoed down the corridor. 

A shudder ran down her spine at the sound of him so near. 

She abandoned the window, moving to the door. 

Does she dare try to leave? Or would that place her right into his hands?

In the skies, she would never run. Even against Vhagar, Silverwing was quicker. More agile. She'd have a fighting chance. 

But in the halls of Winterfell? She had nothing. 

She moved away from the door, looking around in panic. 

Without thinking, she ducked under the table, pulling her legs to her chest in hopes that she'd go unseen.

Sure enough, Aemond threw open the doors to the dining hall. 

She could tell it was him by the pace of his stride alone. 

The clicking of his boots neared, and she found herself holding her breath. 

The boots came into her line of sight, pausing in front of her. 

She wanted to scream when his knee hit the floor and his eye was suddenly trained on her. 

"Sister," he hummed lightly.

"Aemond," she whispered.

"You must get better servants," he mused. "Yours sing like canaries."

"Where is my husband?" 

His brows shot up, "Dunno. I haven't seen him."

Where was Cregan?

"Come out from there, dear sister."

"No."

A hummed resonated in his throat before he spoke, "Still stubborn as before. I had thought the North would drive that out of you. C'mon."

She shook her head, anger rising her her. "Leave, Aemond."

He sighed, "Be difficult then."

His hand encased her ankle, dragging her out with ease. 

She let out a scream as she sat up and began to pry his hands from her. 

Aemond was used to combat and seemed completely unfazed by her fighting. "Listen to me, sister."

She continued to fight until he straddled her, holding her arms above her head.

"Why must you always fight me?" He seethed.

She stilled, a fire lit behind her eyes, "The North has only hardened my heart to you, brother."

"īlon share ānogar, mandia," he growled. (We share blood, sister.)

"Nyke northern." She whispered. (I am Northern.)

He grunted in frustration, pushing himself off of her and standing. He pinched the bridge of his nose in anger, "You fight against your family. Against me."

She sits up, brushing off her dress, "I fight for the true heir. You and I both know we were not made out of love. Father did not care for us. Rhaenyra is to be Queen. Not Aegon."

"Watch yourself-"

"Aegon did not wish for this!" She yelled. She then used the table to help her stand as a thought came to her. "You are only here for my dragon. I thought you'd come to fight for Aegon, but no." She neared him, daring him to do something. "You only fight for yourself."

A hand shot out, gripping her throat tightly as the other rested over the handle of his dagger. He spoke through gritted teeth, "Do not speak of what you do not know."

"Might I remind you of the same?" Cregan's voice suddenly chimed in. 

Behind Aemond stood Lord Stark, Ice poking into the Prince's back.

"Tell me why I should not spear this sword into you now and end this war entirely?" Cregan threatened.

Aemond's jaw clenched as he stared at his sister who remained motionless. 

Finally, he let her go, cursing himself lightly when she dropped to the ground and coughed. 

"Turn yourself around and face me properly," Stark commanded.

Aemond did so with a look in his eye that could kill. "You command your prince-"

"I command the Green traitor scum that dared invade my home and threaten my wife."

"I still hold the fiercest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms," Aemond taunted. "What will stop me from burning all of the North down?"

"Then your war will be lost before it even begins," Cregan said lowly. "For I will hunt you down. And where a Stark leads, the North follows."

When Aemond stepped forward towards the Northernman, the tip of Ice rested against his stomach, the threat still there. "I am only here to return my sister to King's Landing."

"You touch her, and you die by my hands, Prince."

Aemond's head tilted, "So scared you'll lose the war?"

"Hardly," Cregan reasoned. "You're just not touching my wife."

"She," the prince pointed, "Is a Princess and a dragon rider first. Not your little northern wife."

"And yet she didn't choose you, did she?" Cregan mocked softly, enjoying the anger radiating from the man. "She chose to stay."

"She has no choice," Aemond gritted his teeth.

"And still she didn't choose you," He smiled. He looked past the prince, "Alright, pretty girl?"

Y/n looked up at the two, her fingers massaging her neck where bruising had already begun to show, "'m fine."

Cregan took that for an answer enough before turning his attention back to Aemond, "Leave before I change my mind."

Though filled with hatred, Aemond had no defense. He stepped away, his eye not leaving the Lord. "You'll regret this." He turned to his sister, "You'll wish you'd chosen differently."

She spoke up, her voice hoarse, "I shall see for myself."

Trying to force a unbothered tone, Aemond hummed, "Very well."

He then turned back on his heel, retreating from the hall.

The moment he was gone, Cregan abandoned Ice, kneeling in front of his wife, "Gods, what did he do to you?"

She held his hands, keeping them from wandering over her is panic, "Just some bruises. I promise. I'm alright."

"Forgive me. He had snuck past us men entirely and through the doors before any of us had even spotted him."

She shrugged, "You came when it mattered most."

"Aye," he smiled. "I always will, my girl."

She leaned forward, connecting their lips gently.

He groaned against her. "I always will."

..............................................

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[pushingdaisies1]

ok so i'm new to your blog so i'm not 100% sure how you usually do requests but I would kill for a fic where the reader gets an injury (not life threatening) patched up by another character. Dae-ho came to my mind first tbh but you could literally do whoever. i'm not sure if you do multiple characters in one post or not so take this request however you like!

"Dont look at me with those eyes" . . . ♡

. ⟣ㅤㅤ˳ㅤㅤ︵︵ㅤ ୨ ୧ ㅤ︵︵ㅤㅤˑㅤㅤ⟢ ,

-> PAIRING: Kang Dae-Ho (Player 388) x Reader! -> SUMMARY: Falling into these games was like a hard-hitting reminder of your status on the food chain. Always the one to sell yourself out and break yourself completely to help loved ones make it up to the top. You were the lowest of the low, a runt. A runt with a big and burning heart. But meeting Dae-ho was like a soft blanket being wrapped around you. In your first interaction alone, even though you were playing with your lives, he was like a beacon of strangely placed hope. Soon becoming acquainted with the "quickly assembled" team Mr. Player 456 (Seong Gihun) had formed, you had found quick allies with the group of men and Jun-hee. After the third game, you had taken a pretty bad blow to your leg from another scattering player. Dae-ho notices, and knows that he can't let a partner limp back without lending a helping hand. That made you like him so much, he was a helpful, hopeful fool. It made your teeth grind against other teeth as you watched him care for you so carefully. You were almost like glass in his hands. -> WARNINGS: Descriptions of violence (mingle was brutal), Not entirely proof read.., Descriptions and talks of injured/dislocated ankle, I use y/n like once LOL, I kinda fudged the "rules" of the second game don't mind that heh, I don't know how to treat wounds so it WILL be incorrect!, angst(?), Dae-ho being a cutie patootie!! -> AUTHORS NOTE: Aghhh first ever request, I love this idea, and tysm for sending one in! Dae-ho became a quick favorite of mine, especially after the fourth episode. He's so sweet and the most gentle character in the show. I love his vulnerability and warmth as an ex-marine and clear victim of toxic masculinity in his life. He's genuinely a top favorite of mine. I do apologize if this is a tad bit too long for anybody's tastes. I had a lot of fun with this request as you can see heh. I'll be using him (Dae-ho) for this one, but yes for reference next time ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗I don't mind doing multiple characters in one request <3!! Don’t be afraid to send in other characters , enjoy.. ^_^

. ─── ୨ৎ ─────── ୨ৎ ─────── ୨ৎ ─── ' . The fact that you had survived past the first and second games was shocking. You hadn't expected to see players littered down with bullets when playing a game calling back to your younger days. One by one it was like watching chickens be plucked from the coop. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you tried your hardest to stay as still as possible. Thank the heavens you didn't end up in front of the so-called "rap legend" who was pushing people left and right. In your held-back panic, you had found a point of focus. A specific player amongst the herd had more so shouted for people to stand behind others taller than them.

Stay crouched down behind the back of another and the doll shouldn't recognise your movement. As hurried steps padded against the sandy ground, you found yourself lined up behind a taller man. His hair was pulled up halfway, with a tiny ponytail atop his head. If you weren't in a life-or-death scenario you would've had a nice quick chuckle about it. His stature was easy to hide behind in the hurried chaos. As others were being shot down among the organized crowd, your feet had almost lost footing. Your stance had faltered after someone directly behind you had gotten shot by one of the sniper perks. You felt your legs begin to tremble as your back was littered with the victim's blood.

You were so close to ruining this somewhat assorted line when you felt a hand clasp your wrist. Shockingly you didn't jerk out of line, it was in actuality a steadying grip. In quick succession, he'd murmur to you, a stranger behind him. "I got you, just keep l-looking ahead." Even though his voice was trembling he still sounded like a courageous hero to you. So quickly you were able to steady your legs, and before you could hesitate anymore it was time to move. Reaching across the finish line was like a breath of fresh air. Pretty much getting all the air knocked back into your lungs. You couldn't have fallen harder against the ground after you had thrown yourself over. Locking eyes with the young man that was standing beside you. He was almost cracking a carefree smile as he soon realized that he'd too made it out alive.

Seeing you on the ground he immediately offered you a hand. If this was all in a different context, you would've been feeling more butterflies in your chest than you already had. But you had almost died just a couple seconds ago. You were grateful for his steady hands, so you hopped at the opportunity to have him pull you up on your feet.

In hindsight, you probably looked like a nut job as specks of sand littered the jacket you and every other player adorned. His grip was firm as he excitedly shook your hand. "You were a tough one out there! I'm glad to see you make it." He said with a beaming smile. The announcements drowned out your thoughts as players' numbers were being called out with their eliminations.

Your eyes were a lot more shaky as you nodded your head in response and recognition. "It's in all thanks to you. You practically saved my life. I am forever in your debt.." Words trailing off as you didn't know his name, at all. He probably had the name of an action hero or a true trailblazer. Was luck finally on your side? Did you make a friend in this horrifying ordeal?

Everything was buzzing all around between the two of you. The doll Young-hee repeats the same two phrases over and over again. As your surroundings became pure noise, you found comfort in focusing on his face and its features. His grip on your hand with firm, giving you one final good squeeze as your hands fell to your own respective sides. "Kang, Kang Dae-ho." He had this almost palpable warmth. It made you feel all mushy on the inside for unknown reasons. You'd let out a sigh of almost relief as your lip quivered. "Thank you for saving my life, Kang Dae-ho." Your eyes grew glazed over with unshed tears. No regular person has ever been this close to death. A completely and utterly helpful stranger just saved you. Your chest was pounding with emotion but there was no time for that. The timer was quicking ticking down and both of your attentions were collectively drawn to the scene in front of you.

The "freeze" man from before and a woman both tried to carry over an injured player. The triumphant moment was killed as people erupted into cheers, and the injured soul was shot for the final time in the head. The first game came and went. The prize money was introduced and soon the stakes were raised. Voting amongst the players was almost coming too close to starting a fight. Some people wanted to leave off the bat.

After witnessing the carnage and violence being displayed in only the first game out of six. So many lives were lost, and the prize money shined like a golden nugget. It was like the largest golden ticket out of tremendous piles of debt. Which you were suffering with.

So even with protests and bated breaths, your fist firmly pressed down onto the 'O' button. You wore it like a badge of shame on your chest. A reminder of your shameless greed, judgemental stares burned into the back of your head. When people dispersed and went to different areas around the room, you were somber. You felt shameful as you contemplated your decision.

It was so close to a tie. Your vote could've done so much. But your debt wouldn't have been fixed. You would still have creditors hounding after you for your money. You were screwed either way. The jacket was large enough for you to be able to burry yourself inside of it , in both shame and fatigue.

You were shocked that they were handing out containers of food. With how sightly sickening the first game was. But ya' know, have to keep the prized pigs well-fed to continue on. You slunk back as you immediately dug into the food you were given. You weren't focusing on taste or texture. It tasted like home, so you didn't hesitate to scarf it down in quick succession. Your eyes looked in front of you, examining the walls and the layers of beds. Players either sat by themselves eating what they had , or were already starting to make connections with other poor unfortunate souls. Something caught your eye as you were people-watching. A group of game participants, who had voted the same as you did were walking over to the previous player. You could remember the desperation that clung to his voice. Especially when other players were brushing off his words during the voting. You saw that same familiar face who also risked his life to save yours. It was the most commotion in the room. Leaving your tin and your half-drunken water bottle on your mattress, you scooted off and gently found your footing. You placed one shoe in front of the other as you watched players dispersing away, the sounds coming from them not pleasant ones. What could've been said to make that many people storm off with such unpleasant looks on their faces?

You approached the men with skittish hands and determination in your mind. Alliances and teaming up with players may be the utmost needed in these games. Making friendly with someone whos played these children's games before could give you and others the boost needed to survive. Player 390 sounded determined as well. Especially talking up his friend as a previous player. Or... were they friends? The man just seemed like a friendly soul.

As Dae-ho was addressing the men with profound respect and camaraderie, you sort of appeared beside him. "I'm sorry to interrupt but..." Dae-hos eyes expanded when seeing you, his hand meeting your back in a rather firm pat. "Ah! , Have you come to join our team as well?" Your cheeks grew warm as suddenly you were on the spot. But admittedly that was your fault. "I-I- I heard the commotion over here, are you looking for one more person?" Your voice was small and meek. '456' looked at you, his eyes cold with glimpses of warmth in those pupils. To the looks of it, it appeared like he was trying to give you room to speak. "No matter the game, having allies is always good to have. You seem like a group of good men... I don't want to die so soon. Please, your consideration would mean the most."

'001' cracked a small smile. "I don't have a problem with it." His voice was smooth ... almost hollow. You didn't focus on demeanor, only happy to see such graciousness. '456' bit back a sigh, his face a little less solemn after watching the scene in front of him between Dae-ho and player '390.' Both their sleeve rolled up, showing off their similar Marine tattoos. Before he could get a word in, you spoke up once again. "I voted to continue on because of you. You surely have enough wisdom to carry the players participating. My vote wasn't one out of malice. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place-" He put a hand out to stop you from talking anymore. "You don't need to explain yourself to me. I have no problem with you joining us, you seem to be a good kid." You took his words and ran with it. Dae-ho couldn't help but chime in. "I ran into them in the first game! They are as courageous as an ex-marine like myself." Your eyes expanded in utter confusion, no? "I'm flattered but-" '390' cut you off with a broad smile. "It's settled then, we are a full team! It is nice to meet you." The conversation was pulled away once so quickly a fight broke out. Player '001' stepped in to stop the fight once player 390 and Dae-ho stood back. You felt even safer grouping up with the four as you watched the older man quiet up the so-called 'Thanos' and his friend. Maybe you would leave the next game with your head still on your shoulders. In the dead of night, Dae-ho made sure to remind you about what the next game most likely would be. You tried to be the most quiet you could be as you made your way out of your bunk.

Why was he being so nice to you? You didn't expect to find somebody with such a welcoming atmosphere in the surroundings you were.. momentarily stuck in until the next vote. Sleep came and went, the first game haunting your mind. You may have been only able to get one to two hours of sleep at most. Trying to be as positive as you could be for this new day. Dalgona shouldn't be so bad.

When the second game was officially revealed your mind took a sharp turn to "I'm screwed." But still, your team stuck together. It couldn't be Dalgona if they were having players pair together in teams. Still though, with a previous player in the team mix, everything should go off smoothly.

Since he has seen this all before one way or another. The trust was already palpable amongst each other, you make this game your bitch. Player '222' was a happily added addition. You couldn't help but immediately clamor at having her join. The clock was already down to one minute. There was little time to spare to find one more person to finish up your group. She looked to be very capable, and it was immoral to leave a pregnant woman with no team. Soon the game was explained, as well as the inclusion of minigames in between.

You were one of the last teams. So you all took the time to watch every person's strategies and techniques. Especially the teams who actually.. made it out alive.

Victory at all costs! , player '390' had you all say as you joined hands atop of one another. Finally, you were brought up to have your ankles latched together. Since you were one of the last teams competing, there was no audience. But fewer distractions meant more focus for minigames that needed ample attention. Right beside player '222' you made sure to help her when she was losing her footing. Her eyes always glanced back to you when along with the others you'd ask if she was okay. Especially having a mighty hand at ddakji! With barely any time your team made it out alive. Once again the moment was killed by the sound of gunfire. Watching as the guards lay bullets into the team you were expecting to see finish alongside. You all were just glad you made it out alive. Coming back into the main room, the energy in the room was bubbling for conflict. You and your fellow teammates fell back to the side, introducing yourselves and getting closer to one another. When the vote was incoming you knew you weren't going to pick the option you had picked yesterday. But, if you were stuck playing one more game with these people, you felt your odds were better than before. As the masked guards came in to congratulate the players on the game, voting started up soon after. The piggy bank was a still painful reminder of what was at stake. All the money that equaled people's lives. Something in your gut was telling you that the vote wasn't going to end in your group's favor. But still, you walked up to the box, your hand pressing firmly on the 'X' button. Your hand quickly yanked off the patch on your chest to trade it out. You felt like some of the guilt lifted off your shoulders. The money was at least enough to pay off a good chunk of your debts. Getting out of here would mean you could find a way to spend your money smarter while your heart was still beating.

Filling into the 'X' side of the room, you saw that the 'O' vote count only went up and up. It made you feel almost queasy seeing the blue side of the room get larger and larger.

You stood right beside Dae-ho as your hands lingered towards his. His pinkie wrapped gently around yours, almost like a comforting gesture.

Maybe it was out of pity you had no clue on your mind. The bunched-up group waited with bated breath to see if maybe the vote would change in favor. Your face showed your shock and hurt, similar to the others on your side. One more game meant more bodies to be left astray. The air was palpable with hurt as the guards pulled back, announcing that a third game would be happening soon. Even though Jung-bae was a part of the major vote, you all still tried to stay positive. Especially on Young-Ils intervention as Gi-hun lamented about the ferociousness of the potential third game. Lights out soon came, the piggy bank in the middle giving the dark and depressing room a warm glow.

Your team had made a fort amongst the empty beds of the fallen players. You found some sort of peace as you and Dae-oh slept side by side in that compact space under the bed. Having a warm body next to you was nice in these trying times.

Morning came quicker than you had expected. Young-Il was already awake as you all arose from sleep. Like clockwork, the guards came in and escorted all the players to the next game. Some were more excited than others, you were currently just trying to keep your head steady. The pleasant conversation was killed once you all got higher up the long and winding staircases. After taking all that time you were finally brought to the third game. The doors in front of you opened as the guards filled out into the room. This new room was large and almost too grand. Its walls were a warm pale yellow with grand designs. You had all pretty much walked inside a large music box. In the middle of there stood tall a carousel. The PA system introduced the game, Mingle. Jung-bae had familiarity with the game, describing it as a game to pass the time on school trips. The team began to talk about potential strategy and game specifics. "What if it is smaller than five? Like three ... or four?" Dae-ho croaked out in response. You'd turn to him with a focused look in your eye. "We should be able to split off evenly if it's three." Everyone in recognition as Young-Il spoke up. "No matter what happens don't panic. Let's stay calm." "We'll all make it out together, here." On queue, his hand fell out in front of everyone huddled up. One by one all your hands fell atop of each other. The last one to finish up this was Gi-hun, and soon came the "One - Two - Three."

Quickly everyone was ushered onto the platform, and then the game would officially begin. The lights in the room would become harsher and more dramatic as the music started up, and soon would the spinning platform. As the PA system explained beforehand, numbers started to be called out. Ten was easy as you and another familiar group consisting of the older woman, her son, and the two other girls rushed into a room. Relief took over your bones and your bunch had made it in a room just in time. Horrified screams and shouts for mercy could be heard just outside the door. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest cavity as the locks rhythmically unlocked. Soon all players were now back atop the platform. The slow spinning motion of the large circle was almost sickening; when your eyes focused on the littered blood. But feeling Dae-hos hand firmly hold your shoulder, you snapped back into reality. The whirring motions abruptly stopped, causing you to barely lose your balance. The familiar monotone female voice of the PA system clicked to life, "Four." Immediately the lights started to flash, and your head jerked around to look at your other teammates. Counting heads, you all wouldn't have fit into one room of course. Without getting gunned down by the eventual guards. Gi-hun tried to say something but Young-Il already was grabbing your hand, shouting for two more people. Jung-bae already took the initiative as he pulled Jun-hee and guided the others into a vacant room. A scuffle happened amid the panicking players. You and Young-il had found two other players able to fill the room. But another man tried to push in, inevitably shoving you out of the room. Young-il looked like he was able to do something but in the scuffle, your leg met the man's chest. It was a swift kick with a pop ringing in your ears. With seconds to spare, Young-Il dragged you into the room and slammed the door shut. His eyes looked to you showing some semblance of pity. Even with the mortified voices outside and gun fodder, he looked towards you. "Are you alright?" You nodded as you readjusted your back pressed up against the wall. "Yeah, I'm okay ... he wasn't letting up." Trying to crack a joke clearly didn't work for the mood in the room. The two other players stayed silent, lips trembling with fear as a nightmare happened beyond the door. Young-Il gave you a glimpse of the smile before offering you a hand. "Here, that didn't sound pretty." He replied calmly as he helped you keep steady on your better leg. Soon everyone was let out of their respective rooms once again. The counter on the wall is now down to "168." On the other side of the room, you and Young-Il excited. Even as much as you tried to resist his help your leg was stinging like hell. The distant voices of Jung-bae and Dae-ho could be heard. "Brother Young-Il, Y/n!" Along with your other fellow teammates. Young-Il flashed his teeth in a smile as he called back. "Gi-hun!" You two rushed back together, you slightly lagging behind him. But he didn't seem to take any mind to it. In fact, trying to make sure you didn't damage your injured leg any more than it already was. You were met with the sight of your relieved friends. Jung-bae was immediately joyously welcoming the two of you back. "I was worried, I'm glad you two made it back." Gi-hun addressed the two of you. Young-Il had the biggest charismatic grin on his face.

"I'm a social guy, so I'm pretty good at these kinds of games." You chuckled alongside Jung-bae as the air around you all settled. This calm was weird but it was welcomed by you. "I just kinda held on tight and hoped I wouldn't get trampled along the way, seems like it works." Jung-bae nodded firmly as he patted your back, the wind leaving your lungs. "It sure did! I knew you two would make it out in one piece, I did." Dae-hos eyes wandered to your limp. He frowned at the sight of you holding back simmering pain. It all kinda just mixed into the worry already present on his face. But the joke Young-Il made definitely eased up tension. "Ohh... In her tummy?" It was a perfectly timed response to even get Gi-hun to let out some tension with a laugh. You felt well about this entire ordeal, seeing the warmth in everyone's faces. The next round was about to begin. Dae-ho turned his attention to you, pointing down to your leg. "Eh? - what happened with you?" His eyes showed genuine worry. He didn't want to lose you... maybe. "I'm fine, I just got caught up in the crowd when me and Young-Il were trying to find others." You tried to wave off his concerns, but he would place a reassuring hand on your arm, gently squeezing the bicep. "Your leg looks pretty torn up, on second thought don't look down. The sight before him was a bone prodding at the skin of your ankle. This wasn't good, you needed to be able to run! His breathing was panicked as his eyes darted around. "I-please be careful, it doesn't look so good. L-let me help you relieve pressure on it, hop." His arm extended for you to hold onto it. You gritted your teeth as you linked your arm with his. One foot, two foot repeated in your head as every remaining player returned to the platform. The numbers continued to be announced. Three, Six, and then Two. You didn't expect yourself to survive the last one. But a girl... You had seen her before hanging out with the guy who called himself Thanos. She had practically thrown you into a room. As the door clicked shut you finally could relax your one leg against the wall. She didn't really say much to you. "Thank you... thank you." You repeated, and your head nodded also repeatedly. "We saved each other, so thank - you." She replied.

Her tone was brief and almost bitter but who wouldn't be after witnessing what they had witnessed. Finally, it was all over, this game of doom. The walk down the stairs was brutal on your ankle. Your mind was so focused on the burning pain that you could only listen to somewhat of what Dae-ho was saying ... for ... moral support?

Quickly he swooped his arm back under yours. As players filled into the room , this was a moment of rest. Jung-bae was already counting the heads of players. So at the moment it was best to lay low and wait at the side lines. Perfect for Dae-ho to help you. Bringing you off to the main steps of the beds , he ushered you to sit.

“Okay! Thank you mother hen…” , you’d joke as you sat yourself up straight. Clearly the joke didn’t land as Dae-ho looked at you sternly. Slowly you extended your ankle out to him as he kneeled down in front of your , with an awkward chuckle in between. Immediately assessing your leg you couldn’t help but butt in as you heard him wincing. “What-“

Your eyes expanded seeing what Dae-ho was seeing. Comically you held a hand over your mouth as you gagged. Dae-ho immediately once again tried to calm your nerves. “I can fix it. If I remember correctly.. here.” His hands reached to unzip the zipper of your own jacket to your “tracksuit.” Your hands and his hands collided but by the way he was gesturing to your sleeve , you got what he was putting down.

Your teeth gnawed down on your sleeve. You pulled your eyes away immediately from the sight of your busted ankle. Dae-ho had his hands firmly set around specific points of your ankle. “Breathe in.. and three , two-“ Your ankle sounded off with a loud pop. You felt like you had gotten air brought back into your lungs. A pleased smile grew on his face. His eyes were so kind as he watched you be filled with pain relief. Rolling your ankle to keep it set. You saw him gripping at his shirt sleeve. “Dae-ho.. what are you doing?” You could not get another word as he ripped his sleeve off.

Accidentally you’d gasp as he quickly wrapped the fabric around your relocated ankle. “This should help ease your pain.” You were left speechless , which left him chuckling at your dumbfound-ness. “How did you know how to do that?” You asked him curiously. I mean he was an ex-marine , not just anyone knew how to set an ankle , even a marine. He shrugged his shoulders with a clueless nature. “I’ve had a bone injured one too many times. We also learned it when needing to help tend to fellow injured marines on the spot.” You gave him a look of recognition as you kept that in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you realized your ankle was still in his gentle grip.

“You’re too kind to me Dae-ho.” You humbly remarked as you once again glanced away. What he responded with was… shocking? Well it’s not like he had let out a bomb of truth on you. But just by the way he responded to you made you feel the biggest of emotions. “We’re friends by now , and maybe I like taking care of you.”

Okay , was he flirting with you? No that was impolite to think. Your mind raced as you were only able to utter out a measly , “I appreciate you.” His head would triumphantly nod. “I appreciate you too , my friend!” In quick succession , you were already being called over by Gi-hun. Him and Young-Il were standing in a sort of corner of space behind empty bunks.

Dae-ho quickly stood up , offering you a hand. “We’re needed.” He’d surmised with an unmistakable grin on his face. Maybe he was feeling butterflies just like you. Repositioning your body , you began to sit up as your hand clasped with his. “We most definitely are.” You remarked in response. Odds be damned , Dae-ho was too good for you.

[perilusjax]

Dp x dc

The Warrior of Hope

A spear thrusted into the creature, the weapon glowed a neon green. There were swarms of them all over the city. Standing in the middle was a lone figure. He wore greek styled armor with a pteruges. His muscular figure peaked through his unarmored portions.

A spear in one hand and a shield in another. He battled through the horde, not stopping for a moment. With a yell, the warrior slammed his foot onto the floor, a blast of ice speared into the beings.

Taking a quick breather, the warrior's head snapped up. A figure flying towards him at extreme speeds.

After a few seconds, the person slammed into the concrete, picking up dust and cracking the ground. As the person stood, they were a woman. Her flowing black hair was held back by a starred tiara. She was none other than Diana of Themyscara, also known as Wonderwoman.

She looked towards the warrior before her, the princess taking in the warrior before her. Yet before she could say anything, ice cracked.

Quickly turning around she socked the being Lunging towards her, sending it flying into others. She took a step back, meeting another body. Quickly turning her head, the saw the warrior in a similar position his shield raised.

Their eyes met, one a crystal blue the other an emerald green. They nodded in understanding, and the new allies began their battle.

The fought side by side, slaying the monsters surrounding them. Cutting through their enemies like nothing, they were completely in sync. They fought as if they were dancing, twirling around one another.

A bright flash spread throughout the battlefield, the creatures disappearing as it washed through them. The two warriors finally able to breathe in relief.

They sized each other up, taking in their appearance.

Diana barely reached his chest, the amazonian having to look up at him. His armor was well fitted, the cloth hugging his frame, while the armor left room for flexibility.

His amor was pitch black except for lines of blue scattered throughout. He wore a pair of leather sandals, the strappes going up his to his knees.

"Well met warrior, what is your name," Diana asked the man.

Looking down at the Princess of Themyscara, the man's cold eyes softened as if looking at an old friend.

"I am Elpis, Diana of Themyscara the spirit of hope and son of Nyx," the now revealed Elpis replied.

Diana's eyes widened in surprise not expecting such a warrior to be the embodiment of hope.

"It is an honor to meet you lord Elpis," Diana greeted the being with a bow.

"No need for the false subservience Diana, I am no Olympian. Now come, there are many who need the hope of heroes," Elpis said, dismissing her attempts to appease him.

The two began two fly, searching for citizens to help.

[crepezinhos]

Bohemian Rhapsody

POV: Ever since you found out that your boyfriend’s nickname has been mentioned in one of your favorite songs, Bohemian Rhapsody, you’ve not let him have a single minute of peace from it yet. You’ve been sliding puns, jokes and commentaries in every single conversation you two have had yet, and when you finally realized how cutely grumpy he’s been acting recently, he’ll finally out you back to your place by sliding something else inside you.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Really quick oneshot

— Degradation, praising, usage of toys, bruising, hair-pulling, overstimulation, creampie and usage of nicknames such as “toy” and “pet”.

“When will this end?” That was the only phrase that has been running in your head for the last minutes.

Because how is this taking so long to end?!

Yeah, Bohemian Rhapsody is 6 minutes long, but you’ve been in this position for barely an hour! You want to rest so bad, but you’re barely in the middle of the song and Scaramouche is going to make sure that you’re 100% done with every syllable of it.

Wrists tied behind your back, legs and feet tied shut together, leaving your ass hanging in the air vulnerably to him, Scaramouche, who was sitting down at the bed with 2 pillows behind him with your chest laying down in his lap and fucking your brains senselessly like he was playing a game.

One of his hand was checking his phone for the lyrics of the music, while his other hand messed with the vibrator’s controller independently. The vibrator was shoved deep down in your pussy long time ago, thrusting you in and out over and over, and you’ve had an orgasm already, which explained your inevitable exhaustion and the creampie hanging in your folds, which he thought made you look twice as beautiful as you already are.

“Mama… ooh-ooh-ooh…” You repeated the lyrics, genuinely using the ‘oohs’ to moan your pleasure out of your body.

“Good…” He praised you while gently tapping at your buttocks with the same hand holding the controller.

“Just killed—” You were immediately shut down by his palm brutally slapping your ass for the tenth time and turning the strength and speed of vibrations to a higher level than before, causing you to scream and whimper in the spot.

“Wrong!” His tone was very ironic, but still very demanding. “Start from ‘Mama’.” He caressed the same spot of your buttocks he slapped, trying to relieve it, although his mean grin told you otherwise.

Every time you made any sort of mistake, he’d punish you just like that. Make you repeat the entire line, sometimes adding the line before it, while being brutally bruised by his hands and overstimulated by the vibrator’s intense waves around your gummy walls.

“Mama… ooh-ooh-ooh… I don’t wanna die…” You paused for a quick moment to process all the pleasure you’ve been trying to condense for the sake of your life.

“I..?” He tried to incite you into continuing with an enormous grin, enjoying every little corner of your pathetic face, whimpering, shaking and mewling with his torture.

“Sometimes—” He sighed and interrupted you again with the same punishment he’s been using, but this time you felt your hair being pulled in his direction right after bruising your ass.

“Word. By. Word.” He leaned closer and whispered in your ear in that dominant tone of his that turned you on.

“I sometimes…” You breathed in and out to process all that pleasure he was giving you. “Wish I’d never been born at all..!” You screamed as loud and quick as you could to make him stop with his punishment on your poor, abused pussy and hair.

“Good, good… Oh, look! Now is your favorite part!” Scaramouche thankful lowered the intensity of the vibrations and the force he applied to your hair, which relieved you so much, you threw your head down to his leg, drooling on his pants pathetically to grin Ally breathe properly . “Oh, no, no, no… you’re not going to relax now, not when we’ve finally arrived in hour favorite part.” He sounded more genuine with his dominance this time, pulling you back to his face by your hair, but this time using your roots instead, managing to control your head too.

So he used that newest power to make you directly stare at him.

“Say. It.” He grinned at you with a maniacal, sadistic smirk, although his other hand, which he used to begin cleaning your drool out of your chin was extremely caring and gentle.

“I see a little silhouetto of a man…” You closed your eyes and begun saying it.

“Which man?” He asked, trying to incite you to continuing as quick as possible.

“Scaramouche, Scaramouche… will you do the fandango?” You opened your eyes again, knowing that it would turn him on like hell to see you filling his ego so submissively and pathetically.

“And am I gonna do the fandango?” He asked, barely blinking in excitement for more of your self-degradation.

If only you hadn’t pissed him off by repeating that verse over and over throughout the entire week… maybe you wouldn’t have to be being so brutally punished like this.

“N-No… you are not…” You shook your head side-to-side, despite his brutal hair-pulling.

“And who’s gonna do any sort of fandango-lap-dance on my dick as soon as we’re done with this?” He touched your foreheads together.

“Me… I will…” You felt Scaramouche other hand move from your cheek to your head immediately after you said such submissive thing.

“So, let me repeat this verse...” He prepared his throat before beginning singing too. “Y/N, Y/N, will you do a fandango-lap-dance on my dick and worship it like the beautiful classic it is?” He sang the verse but in an extended, satirical version of it to degrade you.

“I will…” You nodded. “I’m sorry for pissing you off with my jokes… They weren’t even funny in the first place. From now on, I’ll be a better good girl for you and not piss you off like this again…” You said the words he’s been aching to hear ever since you began moaning the song.

Do you think he hasn’t been preparing this whole punishment and apology session for you when you realized you fucked up? He even made you rehearse that line a couple of times before doing the actual act. You’re dating Scaramouche, girl… what did you expect?

“Good fucking girl.” He slapped your ass in the same spot again, but in a more praising tone. “Now, continue, please…” And despite his satisfaction with your proper apology, he will always prefer to have you more than apologetic…

Also known as… broken.

“Thunderbolt and lighting… very, very frightening me…” You said it, but Scaramouche couldn’t hold his will to giggle at you once again.

“You’re mine… my worthless little fuck-hole to use and dominate whenever the fuck I want…” He commented while admiring the beautiful view he had of you. “Of course you’re forgiven, my love, but you’ll still have to show me just how much you regret being such a naughty, annoying girlfriend this week! So, be a good little pet f’me and keep singing the song like the pathetic, regretful and obedient whore that you are.” You nodded to every single degradation of his and swallowed all your exhaustion down.

“Yes, my mas—” He slapped your ass again, looking more serious than ever.

“Ah, ah, ah, what did I say? Keep singing.” He increased the intensity of the vibrator, chasing your whole body to tremble and arch in his direction.

“Galileo, Galileo…”

Taglist: @amoyanderes @the-stinky-winky @shyentsfoundherink @kindofshyent @bigmantiddys @luminieee @alatusorrow @goofy-ego

Sorry, the fluff is nowhere to be seen!

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[januaryembrs]

Congratulations on 3 thousand🎀💫 May I please get a hot chocolate with Jacaerys Velaryon

RUEFUL | Jacaerys Velaryon x Pregnant!Reader

description: Jace says goodbye to his pregnant wife as he leaves for the North

length: 600+wds

warnings: afab reader, fertile reader (if that's the correct terminology idk, basically able to conceive and carry a baby), I pictured Harry Collett's current age of 20 when I wrote this since

“You won’t be gone long, will you?” You asked, your lip pulled between your teeth as he loaded a few days supplies onto Vermax’s saddle. He looked up at you then, the worry in your tone enough to set Jace on edge. 

His gaze drifted to your stomach, pulling at your day dress that was possibly the only one that fit you anymore. Four months had flown by since you’d realised the two of you had conceived, and it seemed in the last week or so your prince or princess had made more than enough room for themselves inside your womb, judging by all the nudging you’d felt. 

“A few weeks at most, my love,” He hushed, stuffing the last of his rations into the bag and wasting no time taking your shaking hands in his own. His curls stroked at his neck where the salty, sea air bristled between the two of you, and Vermax groaned in annoyance, his scaled prickling against one another as he shook himself out, “Mother needs the North secured as our allies if we have any chance of taking the advantage,”

You nodded quietly, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a long, warm and much needed hug. “I understand. I wish I could come with you, though,”

He sighed, his face pressing against your collar bone as you squeezed him tightly. “I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you,”

Jace and your Queen Mother had been quick to forbid flying the second the maesters had declared you to be with child. You’d put up a fight for it when it had just been Jace being overprotective, but when Queen Rhaenyra was the one to tell you no, you were quick to listen, no negotiations. 

“I know, just..” You replied in a sombre cadence, drinking up as much time with your husband as possible, “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I swear by the thousand Valyrian gods I’ll come back to you,” He murmured, and you leaned in to kiss him then, not caring that the wind whipped around the two of you, a storm brewing off the shore line as the sea sprayed against the cliff face. 

You felt a large, warm head press into your stomach with a feather lightness and the two of you chuckled, pulling apart from one another to see Vermax rubbing against your swollen belly affectionately. 

“I’ll keep them safe,” You reassured with a gentle hand rubbing over the creature's nose, because it wasn’t unnatural for dragons to become incredibly territorial where their rider’s offspring were concerned. The gelding had all but tried to rip a guard limb from limb when he saw him standing too close, and since then Jace had to accompany you to the dragon pit whenever you wanted to visit. You’d always said they were two sides of the same coin. 

The dragon chuffed in his mouth, sounding like a small wail, and Jace knew he shared the sentiment of it as he pressed another kiss to the side of your head. 

“You stay safe, my mother and Daemon will take care of you,” He said, his brown hues unlike any Targeryen or Velaryon you had ever seen, but the ones you fell in love with nevertheless. Because it never mattered to you where he had come from, only that he was yours, “You stay with them at all times, yes?” 

“Yes, yes of course,” You shook your head with a smile, because he always did fuss over you, and it had only gotten worse since you’d become pregnant, “Nothing could ever take me from you, Jace,”

He smiled, somewhat ruefully, because both of you knew that wasn’t entirely true when you lived in the epicentre of a war, pressing another kiss to your hairline and heading for his saddle. He only hoped you were right. 

[shotmrmiller]

someone should write a ghoap x reader roommate situation where they'd brought you in for a reason: an ad somewhere or you're a friend of a friend, whatever. it works because they're never home, being active military men and that's fine. whenever they are, it's alright. johnny's a great guy; amiable, social, easy to get along with. simon's complex. he's reserved, keeps to himself, haunts the corners of the room (he's given you a fright a couple of times already. why he insists on standing around so late at night the way he does is a mystery) johnny's told you to not take it so personally, that with their line of work, especially simon's, there's got to be a certain level of detachment.

what do you mean, especially like simon's?

if ah told ye, ah'd have to kill ye. <- probably not joking

and it works. everyone's happy, even the borderline misanthrope. it works for a long time. maybe you bring it up, one day. "happy anniversary, babes." (johnny's eyes sparkle at the pet name, simon simply looks at you over the morning paper) "it's been a wonderful near decade with you two."

your mistake. johnny's quick to ask how many years has it been exactly, and poor ol' unsuspecting you tells him seven. lucky number seven.

married by common law seven :)

whoops. why bother courting you when they can just wait it out lmao. they're both snipers, after all. patience is their ally.

[afloweroutofstone]

The inevitable downfall of the violent, dictatorial, neoliberal government of Assad is itself a moment worthy of celebration; yet the future of Syria is now up in the air. The hopes of the Syrian people now depend on the answers to many questions that we cannot conclusively predict right now. These unknowns include:

How will HTS function as a national government? Has their signaling towards a more moderate strand of Islamism in recent years been sincere, or was it just a show to allow them to function as the center of power in a rebel movement ranging from jihadists to secular socialists? Are they either motivated to or capable of making good on their promises of reconstruction and national institution-building out of the ashes of what now constitutes Syrian politics? Will they be a theocratic monolith like the House of Saud, a weak pluralist semi-democracy like Lebanon, a diverse semi-autocracy like Turkey, something more reminiscent of Assad’s secular nationalism, something else entirely?

Will HTS be able to establish unified control of the security situation? There is currently a lack of centralized authority, a rapid formation of new organized criminal syndicates trying to either loot or establish control over slivers of territory, and dozens of ideologically-motivated armed rebel groups with only loose loyalties to the HTS government. The Taliban government in Afghanistan is still fighting Islamic State rebels for full territorial control to this day. How long will this fighting last in Syria, and what forms will it take?

If HTS can establish control, will they be willing to be restrained in their monopoly on violence, or will they attempt to rule purely by force? This can often be a make-or-break moment for the evolution of new post-war governments.

How will the interventionist powers with a vested interest in Syria react? Russia owns a naval base and just lost an ally; the US owns a chunk of Syrian territory; Israel is already making offensive moves; Turkey is now the closest ally and sponsor of the new government; and Iran has its own proxy forces in the conflict (not to mention supply lines to other proxies in the Middle East). Is Turkey getting its first puppet state in the region (besides Northern Cyprus)? Will the new Syria be pressed in from all sides? Is it even possible for an independent Syria to emerge from this?

How aggressively will Israel pursue control over the Golan Heights? What has long been a frozen conflict is already turning hot now that Israel's sending troops in to expand its effective lines of control and double down on its (illegitimate, illegal) occupation of the area. What does HTS do in response, and more generally, how do they deal with the fact that they're now neighbors with Israel?

There are already some early signs of refugee inflows returning from the diaspora-- how widespread will this be, how quick will it be, and how it we be distributed geographically? Will states with large refugee populations pressure them into returning? There are perhaps 10-15 million Syrian people living abroad, with more than five million just in the countries immediately surrounding the nation- what happens to all of them?

Will the Kurds be allowed to participate in the post-war political process? This might seem to imply some form of formal break with the PKK in order to appease Turkey enough to participate in the official deliberations on Syria’s future. I'd be interested to hear what kind of arrangement they might pursue- maybe some form of autonomous zone comparable to that of Iraqi Kurdistan?

Will there be retaliatory violence against the Alawite minority who were favored by Assad’s dictatorship? Against any of the other ethno-religious minorities who faced violence by virtually every side of this conflict? Wars of this intensity do not vanish overnight, especially in a nation like Syria which is fractured along ethnic, religious, and political lines. HTS has made a point of noting that they believe in protecting minorities in Syria, but the test will be in how they now treat Kurds, Yazidis, Alawites, Druze, etc., etc.

[goldenxshine]

☾⋆｡°✩ The Silent Gaze ☾⋆｡°✩

aegon ii targaryen x high-born!reader

summary: Shy and reserved, Lady Y/N secretly admires the confident Prince Aegon Targaryen from afar. At a feast, an accidental spill brings them together. From that moment, Aegon begins seeking her out, and an unexpected bond blossoms between them.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The grand hall of the Red Keep was alive with light and laughter. Torches lined the stone walls, casting a warm glow over the gathered nobles, knights, and courtiers.

Aegon Targaryen, eldest son of the king and heir to the Iron Throne, stood among his family’s closest allies. His silver hair, a mark of House Targaryen, glinted in the torchlight, and his easy smile made him the subject of many an admiring gaze. He laughed often, a sound that seemed to charm everyone in its reach, his presence drawing people to him.

Watching from the edge of the hall was Lady Y/N. She stood out not only because of her colorful attire - she always wore colorful dresses. But also for her quiet, almost invisible presence.

Unlike the other young ladies vying for the prince’s attention, Y/N was shy and preferred not to mingle. She knew that her social skills were somewhat lacking. Words often failed her in conversation, and she was quick to retreat into silence, hoping her quiet demeanor would shield her from the gaze of others.

But she found herself unable to keep her eyes off Aegon. She was fascinated by him - by his confidence, his humor, his personality, and the way he could make everyone around him feel noticed.

She often caught herself glancing his way, watching how he interacted with others, how he laughed. There was something comforting in just being near him, even if he didn’t know she existed.

Over time, her fascination had blossomed into a quiet, secret admiration. She never dared approach him, of course, knowing that someone like her, a shy, a bit socially awkward lady had no chance of catching his attention.

But she found solace in just observing him, letting her thoughts drift as she listened to his voice carrying across the hall. It was a voice she had come to know well, though he had never spoken a single word to her.

The feast tonight was in celebration. The Red Keep was filled with cheer, and goblets of wine flowed freely. Y/N sat at a table off to the side, a safe distance from the center of the revelry. Her friend, Lady Joanna, chattered beside her, but Y/N’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Unconsciously, her gaze drifted across the hall to where Aegon stood, deep in conversation with a group of knights.

Aegon seemed to feel her gaze; he paused mid-laugh and glanced around the room. Her heart jumped, and she quickly looked down, her cheeks turning red as she realized how close she had come to being caught.

“Y/N, are you even listening?” Joanna teased, nudging her friend.

“Of course, I was just… thinking,” Y/N murmured, her voice barely audible over the din.

Joanna gave her an exasperated look, following her gaze to the prince. “Oh, I see. The famous Prince Aegon. You should just go talk to him, you know?”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No! I-I couldn’t. He… he doesn’t even know I exist.” Her voice trailed off as she toyed nervously with a bracelet on her left wrist.

“That’s only because you’re always hiding over here” Joanna replied. “You’re lovely, Y/N, and anyone can see you’re a lady of grace and intelligence. You just have to give him a chance to see it too.”

Y/N couldn’t imagine it. Her heart raced at the thought of speaking to him, of somehow capturing his attention. But she dismissed the thought. A prince and a girl like her? It was impossible.

The evening went on, and Y/N tried her best to enjoy the company at her table, though her gaze still drifted now and then to where Aegon mingled among the guests.

Finally, she reached for the pitcher of wine, hoping to calm her nerves a bit with a small sip. But as she poured, her hand trembled, and the cup tilted in her grip.

She heard someone approach the table and shifted to make way, but her movement was too sudden. Her hand caught on the pitcher, and before she realized it, her wine had splashed across the sleeve of the person beside her.

She gasped in horror, her heart sinking as she looked up to apologize - only to find herself staring straight into the eyes of Prince Aegon himself.

“Oh! I-I’m so sorry, Your Grace!” she stuttered, her face turning red as she reached instinctively for a cloth to dab at his sleeve. She felt clumsy and foolish, knowing that her worst fear had come to life. Of all the people she could have spilled wine on.

Aegon chuckled softly. “There’s no harm done, my lady. It seems the wine wanted to find its way to me tonight.”

Y/N froze, hardly daring to breathe as she looked up at him. His expression was surprisingly kind, his violet eyes sparkling with amusement. His voice a bit drunk. She was mesmerized, her embarrassment momentarily forgotten as she realized that he was looking at her - not just a glance, but with interest.

“Y/N,” the lady mumbled, hardly trusting herself to say it. “Lady Y/N.”

“A lovely name,” he replied. He tilted his head, studying her in a way that made her heart race. “I haven’t seen you much at these feasts, have I?”

“No,” she replied, feeling awkward under his gaze. “I… I tend to stay out of the way.” She looked down, unable to meet his eyes, her cheeks again flushing with color.

Aegon chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that seemed to ease her tension. “That’s a shame, Lady Y/N. You don’t seem like someone meant to stay hidden.”

He held her gaze, and for a moment, Elara felt something shift between them - a spark, faint but undeniable.

The moment was quick, but it lingered in her heart long after he had moved on. She replayed their conversation in her mind many times, feeling the weight of his words and the warmth of his a bit drunk gaze.

For the first time, a spark of hope flared in her heart. Perhaps Joanna had been right. Perhaps she wasn’t entirely invisible.

In the days that followed, Y/N found herself crossing paths with Aegon more often. Whether by chance or fate, she was never quite sure. She would catch him glancing her way during court gatherings, a small sly smile gracing his lips when he saw her. He seemed to have a way of finding her, even in a crowded hall, and each time their eyes met, Y/N felt her heart flutter.

One afternoon, she found herself in the castle’s gardens, enjoying the peace among the blooming roses. She hadn’t expected anyone to join her, so she was startled when a familiar voice broke the silence.

“Lady Y/N,” Aegon said. He sounded surprisingly sober, smiling as he approached. “May I join you?”

She nodded, trying to hide her surprise. She wasn’t sure why he had come, but she was grateful for his company.

They walked together in silence for a moment, neither quite sure what to say. Finally, Aegon spoke, his tone gentle. “You know, I often find myself in these gardens. They’re… peaceful.”

Y/N smiled softly. “Yes, they are. It’s a place where one can think without interruption.”

Aegon glanced at her. “You must have a great deal on your mind.”

She hesitated, uncertain how to respond. But something in his eyes encouraged her to speak. “It’s just… difficult, sometimes, to be in a place like this. Everyone here is so confident, so sure of themselves. I often feel like I don’t quite belong.”

Aegon looked at her with an understanding she hadn’t expected. “I think you belong more than you realize, Y/N.”

She looked up at him, her heart racing as she took in his words. She could feel the warmth of his gaze, the softness in his tone. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that he might truly see her - not as just another courtier, but as someone worthy of his attention.

Over the following weeks, their paths continued to intertwine. Aegon sought her out at feasts, engaged her in conversation, and even invited her to accompany him on walks through the castle grounds. They talked about everything, and Y/N found herself opening up to him in ways she had never imagined.

Each time they spoke, she felt her feelings for him grow. She found herself captivated by his kindness, his intelligence, and the quiet strength he displayed. And slowly, she dared to hope that he felt the same.

One evening, as they strolled through the gardens, Aegon stopped and turned to her, his expression serious. “Y/N,” he began. “I… I’ve come to realize something.”

Her heart pounded as she waited for him to continue.

“I find myself thinking of you more often than anyone else,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering. “There’s something about you, something… genuine and beautiful, that I can’t ignore. You make me want to be a better man.”

Y/N felt warm as she listened to his words and that was the moment she realized, the prince felt the same way about her as she felt about him.

[starkeysmuse]

Good Graces | 01

Rafe Cameron x Princess!Reader | series masterlist.

summary; Being the son of the President of the United States came with its fair share of responsibilities, but none as infuriating as this. To secure his father's re-election, Rafe Cameron was forced to spend weeks under the same roof as the Princess of England. Diplomacy, they called it. Torture, he thought. The last thing he needed was a spoiled royal ruining his summer. But between gala events, unexpected conversations, and stolen glances, Rafe realized the line between hate and attraction was thinner than he'd ever imagined.

warnings; no smut. reader is two years younger than rafe. english is not my first language. the images are for the aesthetic. 'forced marriage au' by @rafecameronssl4t inspired<3

author's note; this is my first series!!! hope you liked it, reblogs and comments are appreciated<3

The presidential ballroom was impeccably decorated, a display of luxury that Rafe found unnecessary and pretentious. He leaned against one of the high columns, watching the political and royal elite move like chess pieces on a board. Ward has talking to the King, your father, about something he wasn't paying attention and didn't bother to pretend to care about.

The ride over had been torturous enough. For the thousandth time, Ward lectured him on how to behave in front of the Royal Family, reminding him—again— not to embarrass him in front of "the most powerful allies we could ever have."

Now, as he stood there, arms crossed and mind elsewhere, he saw you enter to the ballroom. Your entrance was impossible to ignore, your dress shimmering as if the stars themselves had been woven into it. Everything about you was poised, practiced and perfect, from the tilt of your chin to the way you greeted the room with that ever–diplomatic smile.

When your gaze finally met his, your expression shifted slightly, and an eyebrow arched. You approached with purpose, the polite smile on your face as cold as the champagne being served.

"You should bow", you said, your British accent cutting through the noise around them.

Rafe didn't move, instead crossing his arms tighter. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I'm royalty" you replied matter-of-factly, through your smile remained polite.

"And I'm the President's son" Rafe shot back, his tone dry. "I'd say that makes us even, wouldn't you?"

Your smile tightened ever so slightly, but you didn’t back down. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when you’re forced to interact with people far more important than you?”

"Only when those people are wearing a crown and an attitude." he countered, smirking.

Before you could retort, a voice interrupted.

“Ah, there you are, Rafe!” Ward’s tone was overly cheerful, drawing both your attention. “Why don’t you and the Princess take a photo together? A perfect opportunity for the press, don’t you think?”

You exchanged a quick, reluctant glance with Rafe, silently agreeing on one thing for the first time: this was going to be a long night.

Rage groaned internally, but this well-practiced fake smile was already in place. He extended an arm toward you in mock politeness, his smirk sharp enough to cut glass. "After you, Your Highness. Don't want to break royal protocol now, don't we?"

You rolled your eyes, but your own diplomatic farcade never faltered. "How thoughtful of you, Mr. Cameron."

As you both moved toward the photo backdrop, flashes from cameras already began to light up the room. Rafe leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Smile big, Princess. The world’s watching.”

“I'd rather choke and believe me,” you replied through gritted teeth, “I’ve been smiling through worse company than yours.”

The photographer barked instructions as if posing next to someone you couldn’t stand wasn’t awkward enough. “Closer, please! Let’s see some warmth!”

Rafe, ever the troublemaker, slipped an arm lightly around your waist. “Anything for the press,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You stiffened at the gesture, your eyes shooting daggers at him. “Get your hand off me before I make you regret it,” you hissed quietly, though your face maintained an air of perfect grace for the cameras.

“Relax,” Rafe replied, his grin widening. “I’m just playing the role your family paid for.”

“Paid for?” you echoed, your smile faltering for just a fraction of a second.

“Sure. Isn’t that what this is? A transaction? You play nice with us so my dad looks good, and in return, we keep your little kingdom relevant.”

Your eyes narrowed dangerously, and for a moment, you wondered if anyone would notice if you stabbed him with your heel. “Your arrogance is truly astonishing.”

“And your entitlement is truly exhausting,” Rafe shot back, his voice just low enough to keep your verbal sparring private.

“Perfect!” the photographer called out, breaking the tension. “You two have such natural chemistry. Just lovely.”

You stepped away from Rafe the second it was socially acceptable, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if even proximity to him had somehow wrinkled it.

“I need a drink,” you muttered under your breath.

“Make it a double,” Rafe quipped, already heading toward the bar.

A few minutes later, you found yourself stationed next to Rafe at a small table as your families chatted about alliances, trade agreements, and other topics that seemed infinitely dull. You weren’t listening, of course. You were too busy internally debating whether it was worth the scandal to excuse yourself entirely.

Rafe, meanwhile, was stirring the ice in his glass with a look that screamed disinterest. His posture was casual, legs stretched out slightly under the table as if he were deliberately trying to take up as much space as possible.

“Enjoying yourself?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Immensely,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “I especially enjoy sitting through conversations about ‘strengthening ties’ and ‘mutual benefits.’ Thrilling stuff, really.”

“Perhaps if you paid attention, you’d learn something,” you countered, keeping your voice neutral as possible.

“Perhaps if I wanted to listen to lectures, I’d go back to college,” he shot back.

You arched a brow. “Ah, yes. How could I forget? The prodigal son of the President, gracing the Ivy League with his presence. Did you even finish?”

Rafe’s smirk returned, though this time it was edged with something more genuine. “Touché, Princess. I did, actually. But I guess the finer details of my resume didn’t make it across the Atlantic.”

“Oh, I’m sure the tabloids covered it thoroughly,” you said. “Right next to your exploits at frat parties and your extensive collection of speeding tickets.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve done your homework. Impressive.”

“Unlike you,” you shot back, taking a sip of your champagne.

“Touché again,” he said, tipping his glass toward you in mock admiration. “You’re sharp. I’ll give you that.”

The conversation, sharp and biting as it was, didn’t go unnoticed. Across the room, Ward exchanged a glance with the King, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, Is this really going to work?

STARKEYSMUSE — do not plagiarize, translate or copy my work.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[diejager]

I love your Only Human fics 😭😭 I can’t help but think what Monster AU 141/Kortac would do if their only human got hurt during a mission….

A continuation maybe please?

Only Human pt3

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x reader

CW: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, gun violence, flash grenade go boom boom, explosion, tell me off I missed any. wc: 2.4k

Only Human masterlist

previous

They fucked up, they really flicked up. It was a simple mission, simple enough that you were sent with only three operators. Alejandro with his witness, slinked between enemy lines, shooting up and creating chaos once he shifted, his large body ripping through enemy lines like a hot knife through butter. Gaz with his aerial insights, flew over trees and spotted the soldiers you were shooting through and giving pointers to where they split up and where they collected. And finally, Horangi, stalking between the buildings, jumping from shadow to shadow with a slow sway of his tail, pouncing on his prey with the stealth of a tiger. 

Laswell had promised that it was a quick in-and-out op, slipping through the village at night and taking out the leading figure of this hastily-made gang that was blocking the transport route between two important, allied towns. The shared intel was that it was a gang of ragtag rebels, raiding police stations within the mass, overwhelming the officers with their vast numbers of followers. They stole police equipment, vests, guns, batons, and ammunition, using them to power through the lines of officers and breaking through blockades built by the townsfolk. 

While they weren’t trained in military warfare or had prior training with specialised weapons, they had the advantage of numbers, overwhelming any joint forces with their vast numbers of rebels. It was nearly astounding how many people were being paid and supported by Russia's wealthy Ultranationalists wanting to disrupt the trading routes and hurt the opposing team by prying them of a source of gas and material. 

The few joint forces had slimmed down their numbers, leaving Task Force 141 to clean it up and take over their base of operation within the region. You were told that their numbers rounded a skeleton crew of twenty men, twenty-five at most. That’s why Price sent you four for quick and efficient disposal of the enemy. 

That’s what Laswell gave you, the information burned into your mind from habitual memorization to ensure that your team would be prepared, and yet the data was wrong. Gaz had reported twice the promised number, not as well armed as you were warned but their number brought a changing tide to your mission. You wanted to turn back, to regroup and form another plan, but everyone was already in place and calling them back could be as much of a risk of being caught as storming in. 

Perhaps that’s why you were all so careful and conscious of the dangers, moving in two, Alejandro and Horangi in one part and you walking under Gaz’s protective shadow. The initial plan was to box them in, working through both exits to snuff out any runaways and once you entered the compound, Gaz would drop down and lead ahead. 

That was the plan, until, of course, all hell broke loose. It was chaotic, they were trigger-happy and within untrained hands, their guns were as leather as a trained one with how quickly they spent their magazine, cycling through one and spraying the wall you used for hiding. Soap’s wild clean-up would’ve been extremely helpful in a time like this; Ghost’s hungry haze would’ve swallowed them all up, opening up a way for you to pass; and König’s reckless and unpredictable shift that sent him into a wild frenzy while he tore through the base. 

Unfortunately, they were back home, the little base they called their own when you first joined, yet you still had experienced and protective soldiers by your side, all special forces. Gaz led you with a strong hand and clear head, stopping at every corner to look at all sides before moving forward and you watched his back, looking out for any enemy rounding back. 

Your situation would be - at best - organised chaos, made from what you were given at the moment, faced with a group over a dozen times and without backup waiting behind. There were hushed orders and observations sent back and forth between your groups, cautious warnings on your side and growls from the other. Nick had been informed in case of any immediate evacuation and Laswell, of the sudden change in the plan. You did your best with what you had, leaving bleeding corpses in your wake, slumped over the bloodied floor and against the stained walls, but you hadn’t expected the rapid change of shift in the enemy. They weren’t such men with guns and knives, they were trained - albeit sloppy - in ferality and ruthlessness, jumping at you and Gaz without a second thought.

Every lunge was met with a bullet, rifles firing at the advancing numbers holding a gun, a knife or both, leaving you with a graze or scrape, the skin under your clothes bristled and bleeding. They flooded like moths to a flame, one taking the place of a fallen, and two other taking his place. You were pushed back to back, Gaz’s wings fluttering in stress between you, fighting the need to cover you in a protective shield of muscle and feather. 

“We’re compromised,” Gaz hissed into the mic, sending the message to any open coms on your connected line. “Victor-01, moving your way.”

“Copy,” Alejandro huffed.

Gaz tried leading you away, feet moving fast and steady around the halls you had to memorise for this Op. He tried to lead you safely, but they swarmed you like flies, appearing from every corner in an unending flood of shouting, thumping and firing. Gaz was bound to get hit at this rate, with his big wings and broader shoulders. It worried you that he’d take a bullet for you - you knew he would, as would the others - and get dangerously hurt. Through one door was a group waiting for you, gun trained forwards and ready to fire, but they were slow, sloppy, and they lacked the training and reflexes of a specialist. 

You had time to push Gaz through a door and into a room, you hid on both sides, hiding from the straight line of fire. You unclipped a flash from your belt, waving it at him to catch his attention. It did and his lips broke into a grin, wild and electric at your idea. You had him count down the seconds, his fingers lowering until he balled his fist, shaking it as you pulled the pin out and threw it down the hall. Veering away from the door, eyes closed tightly and hands around your ears, the flash grenade blew up with a loud, ear-piercing screech. It sent them into a blind panic, weapons falling from their hands to rub the burning pain in their cornea, ears deaf to your quick-moving steps towards them, down they went, like those behind you. 

Adrenaline pumped erratically through your veins, bubbling and warming your body to an uncomfortable heat that had you sweating under your gear. You turned another corner and you were closer to Alejandro and Horangi’s location, meeting up with them was your current objective, to regroup and take over the base in one group. They were just down the path, behind the sprinting men in jeans and t-shirts holding guns like it was a big, heavy toy. You could see their tense shoulders relax when they caught sight of you, guard still up and cautious, but glad that you were safe. 

“Hunter,” Horangi hissed, his figure trembling as his nose twitched under his mask. He stared at your shoulder, the damp jacket stained with your blood. “You broken?”

“No, the adrenaline’s keeping me going,” you nodded back, trying to soothe his worry. Being the 141’s medic, you knew the benefits of adrenaline, it numbed the pain, the cold and the burns, but once you calmed down, you’d feel every little scratch.

You limped out of the building, body leaning against Horangi for support, his tail curled around your thigh and body tense in a possessive mood. He kept glancing your way, his golden eyes swirling with worry, pupils small and attentive to every wince you made. He moved according to your pain, urging you to put more weight on him when you walked on your bad leg, where a bullet shot straight through your thigh, bleeding through the quickly put gauze you covered it with and wrapped tightly in bandages. You promised them that you’d properly patch yourself up in the helicopter while they watched before you worked on them. 

With your body riding off the adrenaline that kept you going for the past fifteen minutes, you jerked and winced when you walked on your left leg, the white bandage around your thigh staining red on the side. You were sure Horangi and Alejandro could smell your blood, or they'd been able to smell it before you even saw them, the irony tang wafting around them like a haze of their failure. The failure to let you get hurt and unable to properly protect you, you could feel the tenseness in their shoulders, their lowered head at your smile and the jerky movement when they moved around, seemingly pulling themselves back from doing something. 

Nikolai waved at your group, ushering you in from his seat, strapped safely with his headset on and communication clear between everyone. With a short affirm from Alejandro, Nik took off, the bird curving to the left when he turned west, towards the UK. You waited until the flight was stable, flying through the air softly and steadily before you opened up your pack, searching for items to clean and reward your wound until you returned to the infirmary. You checked your tourniquet, tightening it when you saw that it was slightly loose, ripping open the wrapping around your leg, you reapplied the gauze, adding pressure to it to stop it from bleeding even more. 

You winced and hissed under their watchful eyes, between Alejandro and Horangi, their tails swaying and occasionally curling around your forearm. Gaz, however much he’d like to sit beside you, to fuss and worry openly about your wounds, sat across from you, strapped in with his wings spread wide across the seats. 

“Looks rough, Охотник,” Nik called to the back, light glinting off his glasses. 

“Nothing new, Nik, you know that,” you replied through the coms, a lop-sided smile curling the corners of your lips.

He cackled, a full-belly laugh that had all of you smiling in your own ways. Nikolai was rambunctious, loyal and a big bear of a man. He was human, the other human in the Task Force apart from you (Laswell might’ve been the one sending you across the earth and gathering information, but she - regrettably - wasn’t truly a member.). 

“Да! I do!”

When you landed, the rest of the TF was already waiting outside, arms crossed and shoulders tense. It seemed they got the news of your Op, showing their displeasure with deep frowns and deeper glares, none directed at you or the hybrids, it was some sort of self-hatred and anger at the person that gave Laswell the intel, their promise of it being factual and not sending them any updates on the case. Laswell, herself, was fairly mad, her stressed face pulled sombrely down. 

Soap and Rudy rushed to you, voices low and tones raspy, they hovered near your group, fussing about the blood that caked Alejandro’s forehead, a slight graze from a rifle’s butt and other bruises from slamming into obstacles; Gaz’s slight pinch in the back from being slammed into a wall by a bulldozing enemy when he ran out of ammo; Horangi’s ripped sleeves, gashes bleeding lightly from attempts at slashing and stabbing knives by inexperienced hands; but what worried them the most was you, limping and hanging from Horangi’s shoulders. 

Your eyes were hooded, equal parts exhausted and blood lost, placing all of your weight on the Haetae hybrid. While your upper half was unscathed - apart from the slight bruises forming on your skin - your leg, wrapped tightly in a tourniquet and bandages drowned in red. The amount of red would’ve been worrying if they hadn’t known you, but you’ve survived far more dangerous and life-threatening wounds, bouncing back with revenge. As truthful as it was, it didn’t stop them from worrying. You might’ve been more resilient than most - hybrids credited their resilience to their human parent - you didn’t have the healing ability of hybrids or the immortality of spectres. 

“ ‘m fine, Rudy,” you smiled, so bright and reassuring when you were the wounded one. “Nothing a few stitches and rest won’t heal.”

“Si, but-”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not worried, love.”

Like his callsign, he walked in on your little group silently, peering over Rudolfo’s shoulders, his warm, brown hues meeting yours. His voice was strained with concern, croakier than when you left this morning, waving at them. Rodolfo moved over when Ghost brought his hand forward, Horangi passed you to him with careful and tender hands so that you could be brought to the infirmary without having to walk. You hooked your arms around Ghost’s neck, arms crossed lazily over his back and chin propped up on his shoulder. He held you against his chest, one arm under your ass and another carefully tucked under your knees, watching your wounded leg without touching it. 

You looked at Price and Laswell from your perch, their hushed discussion with shrugging shoulders and crossed arms, but neither looked pleased with the outcome of your mission. You blinked owlishly when you couldn’t find König beside them, head turning from side to side to find the 6 '10 Austrian hybrid, but you still couldn’t find him. Just as you were going to ask Ghost where König was, a hand reached out to grip your forearm, thick fingers softly rubbing your strained muscle. You were met with a veiled face when you turned, brilliant, red eyes stared at your wounded thigh in distaste, his mind throwing him into the scene of the moment, turning and ripping the men that dared harm you to pieces, bloodied and unrecognisable parts of a human. 

“Hey, König,” you called out, pulling him back from his violent daydream where his eyes turned crimson, glazed with bloodlust and rage, promising doom. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Ja,” he replied moments later, snapping to your face with blank eyes, now his regular, ice-blue colour. “To the infirmary first and mess all later. You need to eat and rest well to heal quickly, Schnucki.”

“What about the-”

“You need to rest, lovie. Let them deal with the debrief,” Ghost’s voice was stern and commanding, ending whatever protests you had. 

As if to prove his point, he turned to face Price, his head nudging you to look at your captain, the imposing and dominating figure of Price’s horned head, thick, swaying tail and powerful wing. Price replied with a quick nod, curt in a way that shut down any voice, landing the hammer on the gravel with a resounding boom. You sighed, grumbling lowly about them worrying too much about a flesh wound, exaggerating your condition (in your mind) and threatening them with insubordination that had your commanding officers glare your way.

next

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 11: 1997 y/n’s version promo series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 11! i’m sorry for starving y’all, hope this makes up 💀💗.

july 22, 2023

By Glamour

july 22, 2023 8:16AM

Just a few weeks ago, Charles Leclerc seemed to be shimmering with joy about his relationship with Lola Ransdell. “He’s happier than he’s been in a long time,” one insider told Us Weekly. Friends of Leclerc and Ransdell were texting a New Yorker writer who profiled Ransdell to say, off the record, that “this time, it’s real.” 

Close insiders  were reporting that the Ferrari driver and Youtuber were even planning to share Leclerc’s estate in Monaco, a house he once shared with singing scarlet ex, Y/n L/n.  In a recent youtube video, Ransdell herself told her fanbase, “I’ve just never been this happy in my life, in all aspects of my life, ever before.” 

Just weeks later, Leclerc’s and Ransdell’s relationship is over. So how did things go from sparks flying to their last kiss so quickly? Let’s hear from the sources.

Shortly after TMZ first reported the breakup, without a reason, a source had more for Entertainment Tonight. “They are both extremely busy and realized they’re not really compatible with each other,” they said.

That checks out — Leclerc had been off the road when their relationship went public, but the summer season of formula one recently kicked off a marathon in Britain, early July, leaving little time for their rendezvous between Ransdell’s own schedule. 

But immediately, Leclerc’s split looked and sounded like a bit of image rehabilitation given the multiple controversies following Ransdell. Their relationship became controversial as soon as it began, as fans were quick to note that Randell shared uncanny similarities to ex, Y/n L/n.

Left to right: Ransdell, L/n via instagram

As more insider comments poured in post-split, a narrative seemed to form that their relationship was just a low-key rebound all along.

“It was always casual,” a source told People. “It was never serious,” another told Us. And in an instantly memed quote, another insider told People, “They were never boyfriend-girlfriend or exclusive.” If you read between the lines of the reporting during their relationship, though, this doesn’t seem too far off. 

That source who told Us how much “happier” Leclerc was with Ransdell did go on to add, “It’s hard to tell if they’ll go the distance.” And another seemed to tell People that Ransdell was just Leclerc’s sidepiece while he was away from his main squeeze, the Hungary Grand Prix  itself. “He’s very focused on his job but is enjoying hanging out with Ransdell when he is off,” they said.

Sure, not all the insiders saw things that way. The source who initially confirmed their relationship to the The Sun said Leclerc and Ransdell were “madly in love” at the time. (Maybe they even said as much themselves.) Another had told Us that the couple was “moving fast,” adding, “They really enjoy each other’s company and want to spend as much time together as possible.” And even we saw the public kissing, cuddling, and late nights at Leclerc’s apartment.

Leclerc and Ransdell spotted at a beach in Malibu last week via@tmz

Nearly every source who confirmed Leclerc’s breakup added that he was just having “fun” with Ransdell. “He wasn’t ready for another serious relationship just yet,” a source told Us, after his previous split from six-year girlfriend Y/n L/n. 

Leclerc and L/n spotted at the same beach in malibu, just a year before Leclerc revisited the spot with the Australian Influencer via@tmz

Crucially, that source added that his friends weren’t surprised by the split, echoing a detail from that initial ET report. “Charles’s friends want what’s best for him and aren’t shocked that their relationship fizzled out,” the ET source said. “In fact, some of them even encouraged him to break up with her—his family included.”

So, the classic case of friends and family supporting a relationship in the moment even though they can already see the end. Take it from a “Page Six” source: “Everyone who really knows him has been saying all along that this was a fun, good-time thing that would last as long as it lasted and would be no big deal once it was done.”

 That insider went on to call the relationship “a summertime thing,” comparing it to his 2015 fling with Charlotte Siné.

Leclerc and Sine back in 2015, via @charlottesiine on instagram in now deleted posts.

To this unusually chatty and surprisingly profound insider, this wasn’t even a proper breakup. “It’s a natural evolution of a fun little thing whose moment is over,” they said.

Or, at least, whose moment is over for now. As one of People’s sources added after the split, “Who knows what could happen again.”

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• Lola Ransdell seen leaving Charles Leclerc’s Home crying moments before news of breakup.

• Charles Leclerc and Lola Ransdell have unfollowed each other on instagram

• A look back at Charles Leclerc’s Relationships..so far

TWITTER, july 22

INSTAGRAM, july 22

liked by sabrinacarpenter, aarontaylorjohnson, gigihadid, and 8,829,184 others

yourinstagram good in goodbye. single & music video out 7/28. meet me behind the mall.

View all 17,828 comments

y/nserastour GIRL WHAT THE FUCK

lovinghimwasred i understood that reference ☝️

peteparkerml WHAT IS DREW STARKEY DOING HERE???

madisonbaileybabe my favs in one room omg

obxstarkey it’s just a music video 😀 it’s just a music video 😀 it’s just a music video 😀

obxscenes the devil (and kris jenner) work hard but y/n l/n works harder.

drewstarkey so much for summer love

y/nswizzle i just know this song is abt charles..

charlesleclercfan11 y/nswizzle she needs to leave him alone atp like it’s so obvious and embarrassing. she’s just so obsessed and using his name to stay relevant.

yourinstagram charlesleclercfan11 if you listened closely, you'd know my music's about my life, not a single person. but hey, i guess 'obsession' sells records, right?

madelyncline lowkey offended u didn’t chose me as your love interest

yourinstagram madelyncline dw babe you can be it in the next one 💘

libray/n yourinstagram WHAT DO U MEAN NEXT ONE???

TWITTER, july 22

INSTAGRAM, july 22

liked by landonorris, bejeweledleclerc, and 789,174 others

tmz_tv #Y/nL/n appears to have confirmed the dating rumors about her and #AaronTaylorJohnson! See video of Y/n and Aaron driving the getaway car from dior’s backstage after party to a private dinner near the singer scarlet’s manhattan apartment.

view all 137,929 comments

landonorris OH SHIT

szasbutterfly the 1997 y/n’s version promo is insane

kardashianclips I dont understand why it's a big thing ...like she's always dating somebody

kanye_ontop she wrote 10 songs that night

goatwest kanye_ontop 1. "London Love Story" 2. "Stage Lights and Tea" 3. "Theatrical Love Affair" 4. "Leading Man" 5. "Behind the Scenes" 6. "Silver Screen Across the Sea" 7. "Cinema Nights" 8. "West End Serenade" 9. "Take One" 10. "Scene Stealer"

salvatoredelrey this relationship is so 2010s coded

bellyxconrad the beginning of another beautiful song for us #your/fandoms/name

user31 maybe y/n should focus on her music and less on her love life. It's getting old 😒

TWITTER, july 22

ally's radio 📻 : HI GUYS IM BACK! sorry for the two month hiatus 💀 anywyas, SECRETS OUT ATJ IS THE NEW LOVERRR (bless up) (henry was so, so close) drew isn’t going to interfere w the story, just thought it’d be fun to throw him in there bc he’s hot😍. what do we think? also what do we think charles’s reaction is gonna be? lmk bc i’m so curious how y’all think this is gonna play out. i have an idea, but i’m welcome to others ofc.

taglist:@incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr

[autonomousroboticorganism]

you get jealous (TF Prime)

featuring - Optimus Prime x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader, Knock Out x F!Reader, Smokescreen x F!Reader, Wheeljack x F!Reader, Soundwave x F!Reader, Shockwave x F!Reader

summary - a new female recruit makes you feel inferior and insignificant, though your Cybertronian lover is quick to reassure you

warnings - slight angst

*(R/F/N) - random female name

a/n - i tried to make Knock Out's angsty like the others, i really did. but we all know that bot is too interested in himself to be interested in another 😭 also, i had no inspiration for Soundwave's or Shockwave's so theirs might be bad this time...sorry!

OPTIMUS PRIME

For a while there was nothing for you to be worried about. The only femme in the group was Arcee and she didn't even entertain the idea of romance, especially with any of the mechs currently in the team. So as far as you were the concerned, jealousy was never an issue in your relationship with the Prime.

Until a certain arrival changed that.

"Ratchet," your boyfriend's voice came through the comm-link, "Set a groundbridge for our coordinates. We will be arriving with a new recruit."

"Another one?" You asked, surprised. "They're coming in fast now."

You and the other human allies of the Autobots lined up at the railing to get a look at the new Autobot as the groundbridge opened. The usual suspects came through, before someone you had never seen before followed Optimus through.

A female Autobot. A very pretty one.

"This is (R/F/N)," Optimus introduced you all, then told her your names one by one, finishing with you. "And this is (Name)."

"Pleasure to meet you," you smiled up at her.

"The pleasure's all mine," she replied, though she didn't seem to be very interested in you or Jack, Raf and Miko. She turned to Optimus, smiling at him sweetly, "So this is your base? Would you like to show me around?"

You felt sick to your stomach. It was very obvious that this femme was interested in Optimus, whether or not her intentions were true or she just liked the idea of dating a Prime. You turned away from them, Optimus starting to agree to show her around when he noticed how upset you were.

"Actually, I believe Smokescreen would be better suited for that task," the Prime told her, before his footsteps drew closer to you. As she left with the younger bot, you felt him tap your shoulder. "Are you alright, (Name)?"

"Yes," you replied in a small voice. "I'm fine."

Optimus looked at Jack and Miko, who shook their heads to tell him you were not fine. You didn't turn to look at the Prime, which also indicated you were bothered by something.

"May I speak with you in private?" He asked hopefully, wanting to sort this out as soon as possible.

"...Fine."

You didn't mean to give him attitude, you hated snapping at Optimus. But you were jealous, no doubt about it, because he finally had a shot at a partner of his species.

"What bothers you?" He asked when you were in his berthroom.

Now that you were alone with him, you couldn't stop the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you, and your eyes became glassy.

"Do you like her?"

"Who?" He frowned. "(R/F/N)?"

"Yes."

"She is skilled in combat," he responded, "But I sense that is not what you mean."

"No, it's not," you confirmed, sighing and sitting on his berth dejectedly. "We both know you've never really had a chance to find a partner that's your species. Now that there is one, who seems interested in you, where does that leave me?"

"I have no need for a partner of my species," the large bot declared, coming to face-level with you. "I do, however, need my human partner. Who underestimates just how much I feel for her."

You looked up at him, surprised, "Really? You don't want someone like you? Someone you don't have to be gentle with?"

"(Name)," the Prime picked you up and placed you on his chassis, "You are what I want. That will not change, regardless of how many of my kind arrive here. You have nothing to worry about, for you will remain my partner regardless."

Your tears stopped brimming in your eyes at his words, and a shaky smile formed on your lips, "Thank you, Optimus. That's exactly what I needed to hear."

He smiled and held you close, aiming to prove to you that he will only ever want his sweet little human girlfriend.

BUMBLEBEE

It was no secret that the Autobots needed more bots. It was undeniable that the team has long since required new members to assist in the fight against the Decepticons and the battle to protect earth. So when another beacon alerted the base to its presence, you were excited to meet whoever else had arrived on your planet. Especially since Smokescreen had turned out to be so cool.

That excitement dwindled when you got your first look at the new arrival, who was a femme. A really pretty one, too. She was also young, much like Bumblebee, and it looked like the two knew each other.

That was confirmed when Bumblebee came over to you excitedly and beeped and whirred so fast you only caught 'old friend' and 'glad she's here'. You started feeling queasy, but you forced it down because he was just so cute when he was excited and you didn't want to ruin the mood.

"That's great, Bee. I'm glad she's okay." And you meant it. You would welcome any friend of Bee's with open arms, and she was just so nice you understood why Bee had made friends with her.

"Is this your human?" She smiled at you. "She's so pretty1"

"Thank you," you smiled back, forcefully. "I was just about to say the same to you."

Only Jack and Miko were aware of how you really felt, and to get you away from the awkward and uncomfortable situation they called out to you to join their game.

"What are we playing?" You asked them, trying not to look at where Bee and the new recruit, (R/F/N), were standing and talking.

You didn't have the heart to tell them you didn't really want to play. Though they could already tell, from how distracted you were by your thoughts.

"Earth to (Name)!" Miko waved a hand in front of your face.

You snapped out of it, "Oh, sorry...I think I'm just going to take a walk." Before any of them could reply, you got up and walked away.

Bee noticed you leave, his optics following your figure as you retreated down one of the long hallways of the base. He wasn't worried about you getting lost, you knew your way around, he was worried about the forlorn expression you had on your face.

He found you sitting against the concrete wall, your knees pulled up to your chest and chin resting on top. Your eyes had a faraway look in them, but what really struck him was the slight frown on your lips. He beeped in concern, earning your attention.

"Oh, hey Bee. I'm fine, don't worry. Where's (R/F/N)?"

More beeps led you to find out she was with Smokescreen, as Bee had followed you out of concern when he noticed you looked down. Another beep asked you what was wrong.

"You've got a great friend," you told him, looking down. "But wouldn't she also make a great partner?"

The scout looked confused, then asked you what made you think that.

"It's just...you guys have a good friendship and I can see you've known each other a while...a lot longer than I've known you. And she's Cybertronian, a relationship with her would be so easy..."

Bumblebee disagreed, telling you that even though he's known you for a shorter time, his relationship with you is as easy and natural as transforming because you fit with him in a way she doesn't. He went on to say that he likes his relationship with you, and he loves you, so nothing and no one will change that and you don't have to be jealous because she can't compare to you in beauty, and she doesn't have your personality which he absolutely adores. In essence, she's not you.

"Bee..." You smiled up at him, his words warming your chest and maoing your heart swell. "That's really sweet...I didn't know you felt that strongly." You slowly stood up and beckoned him down so that you could kiss him. "I love you too, my cute scout."

He whirred happily and lifted you up onto his shoulder, relaxed now that he's made you feel better. He walks back to the others with you, but instead of going to talk to (R/F/N) again, he went with you to watch you beat Miko and Jack in their video game.

You soon forgot why you were even jealous in the first place, and when (R/F/N) told you that you and Bee made the cutest couple, all your worries were put to rest. He was yours, and would always be yours.

KNOCK OUT

You'd never had to worry about sharing Knock Out's attention before, because he was only worried about two things. His paintjob and you. Everything else was sidelined and not as important as you or his finish, especially if it had anything to do with the other Decepticons. And there had never been any female cons apart from Airachnid, so that wasn't ever an issue either.

Until now.

Starscream had been sent out with a few Seekers to investigate a signal that was coming from what seemed like a Decepticon stasis pod. He came back with the prettiest Cybertronian you'd ever seen, or maybe the second prettiest. Knock Out would always top the list. Nevertheless, you were a little intimidated, to say the least.

Especially when she started flirting with your mech. Insecurity welled up inside you, it would be so easy for him to just leave you for someone who's the same species.

"What a stunning finish," you could hear the femme saying, "I can't help but keep staring at it. Share your secret, Knock Out."

The mech was flattered by the praise, but he was too busy being pleased with himself to notice that she was flirting, "Why, thank you. That's the nicest thing any con has said to me."

"Well, there's more where that came from," she smirked at him, leaning in a little too close for your liking. "Would you buff mine?"

Her words ignited an ugly feeling in you, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms. She apparently didn't like this, turning to glare at you.

"Does your little pet have a problem with me?"

Knock Out was between the two of you in a second, shielding you protectively, "Has anyone ever told you that insulting someone won't earn you any favours?"

"I insulted the human-"

"And that's an insult to me," he cut her off. "She is my little girlfriend, and if you wish to speak ill of her, I'd be more than happy to schedule a dissection for you." For added effect, he morphed his servo into a scalpel.

You smiled when he did this for you, jealousy now replaced with admiration for the mech. You stared at him, a little in disbelief and a little in awe.

"You would pick the lowly human over one of your own?" She was stunned by the idea.

"I would pick her over anyone."

You felt your cheeks burn at those words, your heart thumping so wildly you feared it would break out of your chest. You felt giddy, the idea that you were his first choice always sending your heart soaring.

"Suit yourself then," she huffed and left the lab.

Knock Out turned to you, smirking, "Was my little human jealous?"

"Jealous?!" You protested. "Me? No way."

"Uh huh, and I'm blue," he replied sarcastically, chuckling. "I think it's rather cute that you were jealous of a femme that isn't even half the woman you are."

Your cheeks burned again, "Stop! You can't do that!"

"I'm not doing anything," he replied innocently, though his smirk told you that he knew very well what he was doing.

"Did you mean what you said earlier?" You asked him, serious now.

"Every word," he didn't hesitate to answer. "There was never a reason for you to be jealous of a femme, I can't date someone with a nicer finish than me."

You knew he meant well, but you face-palmed. Of course he had to say that, of course that had to be a factor. Nevertheless, you were comforted by the fact that he preferred you over femmes, for any reason at all.

"Now do I get a reward for being so sweet?" He asked you, tapping his faceplate with his long, sharp digit.

"As many as you want," you smiled and leaned up to kiss his faceplates multiple times.

SMOKESCREEN

When Smokescreen falls for you, he falls hard. He devotes himself to you, in a similar fashion to how he devotes himself to being the best he can be. When he does something, or when he loves, he puts every fibre of his being into it. There's no room for doubt with this bot, because he's so affectionate that sometimes it's hard to get away from him to do other things. He has once locked you in his vehicle form and pretended to be in power down to keep you from going home because he'd miss you too much.

So when an Autobot life signal pops up, you don't think much of it at first. And when the team brings back a new femme, you're not alarmed or anything. You're eager to make another friend, and that's all that's on your mind.

You think nothing of it when the femme comes in through the groundbridge a little too close to your Cybertronian boyfriend. She's smiling and chatting animatedly to him, but as soon as his optics found you in the base he's rushing over to introduce her to you, the most important thing he's ever had.

"(Name)! Look who we found!"

You found out that she used to be friends with Smokescreen before they got separated, although she seemed to have a different version of the story.

"Smoke, dear, you forget that we almost became sparkmates."

She said it so casually that one would think it's a meaningless comment, but her optics told you she'd mentioned it with malicious intent. That being to upset you, a human she didn't know but decided she didn't like just for being Smokescreen's girlfriend. You assumed he must have either rejected her or they'd been separated before they could begin to date.

You narrowed your eyes, but you couldn't deny that a part of you did feel jealous at the idea. Truth or not, you despised the idea of your loveable bot with anyone else. It hurt to even think about, so you did your best to not imagine Smokescreen with a Cybertronian lover, even though it would make more sense.

"Oh yeah, I remember that..." He mused, then launched into the story of how he'd met you, "And no one understands me better than she does!"

You smiled at the young mech, chest filled with warmth, until (R/F/N) decided to chime in with another dubious story.

"I miss our spot on Cybertron," she pressed, "It was such a nice view of Iacon." She sighed nostalgically, and then went on to describe how she missed meeting him there to just relax from the stress of the constant fighting, when they'd had breaks.

You realised then that you didn't have a special spot with Smokescreen here on Earth. That did dampen your mood a little, and a small frown formed on your lips. You had been together a while now, but the only places you ever went to with him were your house and this base. Maybe some recon missions, but nothing romantic.

"(Name), what's wrong?" Smokescreen asked you, ever the observant lover.

"Was it something I said?" (R/F/N) asked innocently.

"I'm just going to get some air," you got up and headed for the elevator that would take you the top of this rock.

"Wait, don't go!" Smokescreen went after you. "You have to tell her about-"

"Maybe later," you waved him off. "Enjoy reminiscing."

You had never gotten mad at him before, so this confused him. Of course, being the worried bot he was, he abandoned his conversation with (R/F/N) to join you up top.

"Seriously, did I do something?" His tone implied he was afraid it might be his fault.

You sighed, "No, Smoke. You didn't do anything." You pressed your thighs to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. "Your friend is the problem, actually."

"(R/F/N)?" He asked, sitting beside you, "What did she do?" He easily picked you up and set you down on his leg.

"She kept going on and on about how you almost dated and how you guys had a special spot and everything," you admitted, "And it just occurred to me that we ARE dating and don't have a spot..." You looked up at him, eyes glassy. "And I can't help but think it would be more natural for you to be with one of your own kind."

He blinked once, twice, confused. Then he started to speak, and everything he said was exactly what you needed to hear, surprisingly.

"(R/F/N) and I never 'almost dated'. I don't know why she said that. She and I were always just friends, and the spot she was talking about was where we met so she could update me on the war, considering I was stuck on guard duty. I never looked at her in any other way, I promise. But when I met you...I don't think I've ever loved or will ever love anyone as much as you. You take up a lot of my thoughts, and I'm pretty sure it's obvious but I love your company. She may be my own species, but she's not the one that makes me feel special, she's not the one that makes me smile and she's not the one that I want to be around all day. You are. And I absolutely adore my little human girl, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Thanks, Smokey," you smiled, climbing up to give his faceplates a loving kiss. "That means a lot to me. I love you too."

And the two of you sat there and watched the sunset, the view better than anything Smokescreen had ever seen on Cybertron. He decided then and there that this would be yours and his special spot, and he held you even closer.

WHEELJACK

When Wheeljack left to explore your planet to see if he'd stay, you both kind of left things up in the air. You'd shared one spur-of-the-moment kiss, and nothing more. So you weren't really sure where that left the two of you, especially since he was Cybertronian and you were human. That and he was unpredictable and you didn't know when he'd come back.

When he did come back, though, you hadn't expected it to be with a very pretty femme that only Bulkhead recognised, so you assumed she had been a Wrecker too.

"Hey, (R/F/N)!" The big green bot yelled excitedly, rushing over to greet her. "You found another one, Jackie!"

"Yeah, turns out she's been exploring this rock for a while, doing the same as me. Trying to see if it's worth staying to join Team Prime," Wheeljack explained, grinning at them both.

"And?" Bulkhead prompted.

"I think it's worth it," (R/F/N) grinned. "The native life forms are cute too."

Miko, who had been rooting for you and Wheeljack to get together ever since you had met him, looked at you in concern. You just took a deep breath and walked away, failing to hide the jealousy bubbling to the surface.

"I'm fine."

Wheeljack looked over when he noticed Miko chasing after you, and for a moment he was confused. You were usually happy to see him, and after that kiss he thought he'd earned more than a greeting. Then he dismissed the thought, but your sudden departure nagged at him until he decided to follow you too. He stopped when he overheard you and Miko talking.

"But he likes YOU, (Name)! I'm sure of it!"

"Doesn't seem like it," you replied, and your voice sounded... sad. "Look, if he wants someone that's the same species as him, I'm not going to stand in the way. Plus, she's a Wrecker too. He probably spent lots of time with her so she knows him better than I do. She'd be a perfect fit...everything I'm not." You looked down, sighing heavily.

Wheeljack had no idea what to do with this information. He couldn't approach you now, he wouldn't know what to say. So he decided to go to Bulkhead, who knew more about humans than he did.

When you returned to the main area of the base, where everyone was still gathered, you walked right past Wheeljack. Again, no greeting. You headed towards the other humans, but Wheeljack scooped you up before you could get there.

"Hey! Let me go!" You protested, struggling against his grip.

"No," he denied, transforming and locking you in his vehicle form, "You and I need to talk, and you need to stop avoiding me." Then he took off, out of the base.

"There's nothing to talk about," You insisted, crossing your arms. "But your Wrecker friend, she's nice. Good choice."

He sighed, "I'm sure she'd approve that the human I want has such an attitude. I've always known you were feisty sweetheart, but this is something else. You angry about something? Or maybe jealous?"

You scoffed, "Jealous? Why would I be?"

"Because we both know that neither of us has forgotten that kiss," he suddenly came to a stop. "Now come on, admit it. And then I'll tell you who I really want."

"Annoying as ever," you grumbled, "But fine, yes I'm jealous. Can you blame me? She's not only a Cybertronian, but a Wrecker too! She's the obvious choice for you, it just makes sense. You and I...we don't make sense."

"When has that ever stopped me?" He questioned. "Look, I brought (R/F/N) back because I thought Bulk would be happy to see her. And maybe I was looking for an excuse to see you."

"Why?"

"Because my choice is you, (Name). I want you."

Your eyes widened at his confession, your heartbeat picking up pace. You found yourself getting flustered, cheeks burning.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately I want you too."

SOUNDWAVE

Soundwave keeps to himself, with only you and Laserbeak as his companions. He only needs your company, so you never have to worry about his attention being divided or shared. When he wasn't busy doing tasks for Megatron, he spent his time with you, teaching you about Cybertron and its culture while you did the same for him about Earth and humans.

That changed when Starscream found another femme for the group, one that instantly recognised your lover. He didn't know her, but she seemed to know everything about him. While it was kind of creepy, you were also a little jealous.

Soundwave never got irritated, he was a very patient bot. So her hanging around him and constantly chatting to him never got to him, but it was getting to you. It was harder to spend time with him alone now that he had a fangirl around the ship.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Oh, I know about that!"

"I can accompany you to retrieve the relic, if you'd like."

At each remark or suggestion, you became increasingly annoyed. And maybe a little jealous, because she could join Soundwave on missions without the risk of getting hurt too badly. You were always stuck on the ship, never allowed to go anywhere.

"Fine. Go with Soundwave."

You heard her start rambling excitedly after Megatron gave her permission, and you sighed from where you stood and made your way back to Soundwave's berthroom.

Now you trusted Soundwave more than anything, and you never doubted him. But you didn't like the way this femme felt as if she could invade his personal space, just because he couldn't verbally tell her he didn't want her to. And you didn't like the fact that they would be alone for majority of the day while you sulked in the berthroom without a clue what was going on, or what she was doing.

They came back a few hours later, as you had gotten comfortable on his berth with a book. You didn't look up as he came in, and didn't even speak even though he knew you were aware he had arrived. He sat down next to you, using a slender digit to push your book down to reveal your face, and his screen lit up with a question mark.

"Nothing," you told him, putting your book back up.

He wouldn't give up, and pulled the book out of your hands instead. Placing it down gently next to you, he brought his large visor close to your face and again displayed a question mark. That was then followed by a heart, meaning he's worried because he cares.

You sighed and curled up with your legs against your chest, "It's really nothing, Soundwave. Nothing important anyway."

His screen suddenly showed a picture of (R/F/N), and then an angry emoji. You struggled to hide your growing smile, his method of communication never failing to make you giggle.

"Okay, yes, I don't like her. She's too...excited, especially around you. Not to mention, she can go on missions with you and I can't..."

He started to type on his visor now, showing you when he was done: She is too eager, but I do not pay any attention to her. ANd when we are out on missions, I only think about you.

As you read this you smiled, feeling a little better. He always knew just how to comfort you, and what to tell you when you were feeling down. He continued to reassure you that you didn't need to be jealous because he would much rather prefer your company on missions than her, but he also loves you just the way you are. He told you he adores his little human, and that he finds you cute. He also reminded you that you were special, because he usually leaves humans alone, and assured you that no femme was going to change that.

You beamed up at him in response, "I already knew that, I guess I just get worried sometimes that we can't do everything together because we're not the same."

He typed out that you never had to worry about that because he's actually glad he can keep you out of harm's way, and this way he can never lose you. He also typed out that he doesn't care that you're not like him because his affection for you was not based on your species or form, but rather who you were and how you treated him.

"Okay," you finally relaxed, smiling fully now. "Thank you, Soundwave. You always know just what to say." You kissed his visor, and a heart popped up, making you smile even more.

SHOCKWAVE

Shockwave was a unique Cybertronian. Not only did he absolutely terrify both Autobots and Decepticons alike, not only was he physically imposing, but his intelligence far outshone that of any of the bots you knew. He was also emotionally detached, from everything and everyone except you. He only showed emotion to you, and others got the steely glare of his one red optic. He was content with just you in his lab, keeping him company, and he liked to show you his experiments and explain what he was doing. He never minded sharing his knowledge with you, and he never cared that you weren't as scientifically inclined as he was.

It also never truly bothered you until Megatron found a femme partner for him in the lab, after Knock Out's and Starscream's blatant failure with the zombie Breakdown. He wanted someone to keep a close eye on Knock Out while helping speed up Project Predacon, but instead got a femme much more interested in your boyfriend.

"Can I suggest a more prudent path?" You woke up from a nap to hear her asking Shockwave. She then went on to say a bunch of scientific words and terms that you didn't understand.

"I see. That would be most logical."

You looked at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend the fact that he was outsmarted by this femme. If he was so intelligent, how intelligent did she have to be to come up with a different solution? And why did you feel so jealous that she was that smart? Why was it making you feel so inferior?

Shockwave seemed to notice your silence. He would usually enjoy your chatter while working, secretly listening to everything you said while maintaining his focus. But right now you were just sitting there staring at him, or maybe staring at his new lab partner. And he did not like the expression on your face. It was a mixture of hurt, embarrassment and sadness, none of which he ever wanted to inflict on you.

"(R/F/N), could you please show this to Lord Megatron?" Shockwave asked her, handing her a tablet.

"But-" She tried to protest.

"It is our status report," he cut her off, "He will require it."

When she was gone, the scientist came over to where you were sitting and lowered himself so that he could be eye-level with you. His face was just his optic, but his voice showed concern.

"Little one, why do you look so upset? Have I done something?"

"No," you shook your head, "It's not you."

He paused, waiting for you to continue, but you didn't so he spoke again, "Would you like to inform me of the reason?"

You sighed and finally met his gaze, transfixed almost instantly by his glowing red optic, "I've just never felt more inferior or more dumb than I do now. She's so smart and she knows everything you do and seems like such a perfect match for you. I'm a human who knows very little about Cybertronian science and can't physically help you in the lab..."

He listened intently, not moving an inch as you told him about your insecurities and how you were jealous of how easy it was for them to work together.

"I do not require any assistance from her," Shockwave told you, "But I sometimes require assistance from you. Your company helps to remind me that I am not alone anymore, and even though you cannot physically help me with my projects, you make them easier for me to bear. When it becomes overwhelming, you are there to calm me down and ease my tension. You console me in ways that no one else can, and I hold an affection for you that I will never hold for anyone else. Including (R/F/N). You do not have to worry, I do not consider you to be less intelligent than her, you just have a different kind. However, intelligence alone does not matter to me. You are attentive to my needs just as I am to yours, and I can ask for no better romantic partner."

His words may sound monotonous and meaningless the way he said them, but you knew better. To you, it was basically a love confession, and he was basically pouring out his spark to you. You appreciated every single word, and it worked to make you feel better.

"Thank you, Shockwave," you smiled and climbed onto his servo when he held it out for you. "That's all I needed to hear. I'm glad I can be helpful to you in any way."

"Now that your illogical thoughts have been dealt with, I shall take a break from my work to indulge in that cuddling you like so much," he told you, going to his bethroom and laying on his berth. He placed you on his chassis, and placed his single hand over your smaller body. "Are you comfortable?"

"Very," you smiled and curled up on his warm chassis. "With you, always."

And as you relaxed, you heard him say quietly, "As am I with you."