#as for scouting current banners

[tsubasagirl]

My sixteenth photo featuring Prince Gladion✨

(FINALLY GOT HIS SUPER FAN TITLE 🗣️🗣️)

[yume-fanfare]

do i want to do this to myself

[ellethespaceunicorn]

A Little Fresh Air

Title: A Little Fresh Air

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Prompts: Walter Marshall + Female Reader + Public sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut, requested by @enchantedbytomandhenry

Summary: Walter fulfills your fantasy.

Warnings: mentioned oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), public sex, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Sweet Treats Event 2024 Masterlist

My Masterlist

When you woke up this morning, you did not think you would be in your current predicament. Your knees are scuffed from kneeling on the rough ground, your hair has a few stray leaves entangled within, and your arms and hands are rubbed raw from holding onto the oak tree for dear life. His grip around your hips is almost too tight, but you don’t dare tell him for fear that he will let up on you. You are enjoying this animalistic act far too much to risk changing it in any way, let alone having it end.

Walter has you up against a tree in the woods, far from any prying eyes, fucking into you from behind. All because you had casually mentioned that you had never had sex outdoors. The man’s urge to satisfy all of your fantasies and curiosities is never-ending. He said nothing more other than instructing you to get in the truck. Within twenty minutes, he leads you through a thick brush to a hidden spot he scouted earlier.

He has already had you on your back, making sure to make you cum multiple times on his tongue before he pulled you into his lap to ride him. In the lotus position, he makes out with you while you slowly rock in his lap. The position, mixed with his tongue in your mouth, has your spirit dancing. 

With every orgasm he pulls from you, you grow less and less aware of the fear of getting caught. You look over your shoulder and make eye contact with Walter while you squeeze your walls around him. He fucking growls at you, pushing your skirt up even more so he can slap your ass. The sharp sting only drives you harder to push back into him, so he goes even deeper inside you.

“I’ll finish when I finish, darling,” he grunts. 

“I’m so close. Want you to come with me,” you breathe. 

“Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” He tangles a hand in your hair, maneuvering you to kneel and stare up at him while he towers over you. His slick-soaked cock bobs in front of your face, and you look at it hungrily. “Why don’t you take all that energy and suck your cum off my cock?”

You waste no time in getting to the assignment. Swirling your tongue around his leaking tip, you savor the taste of yourself before swallowing him down in one swift motion. You relish when he gasps as you take him into your throat, closing your eyes. You keep your hands to yourself, half thinking that Walter would just push your hands away and say that he didn’t permit you to touch. 

His groans as you slide him in and out of your mouth tickle your ears, and you pull back until just the tip is in your mouth. You look up at him, letting his cock slip from your mouth so you could lick the underside of his shaft. You glide your lips along the large vein until you rub your nose into his sac. One by one, you take his balls into your mouth and suck on them while he jerks himself.

“Unless you plan on wearing my cum all over that beautiful face of yours, I suggest you get that pussy back up here so I can fuck it,” he warns, his voice soft yet firm.

You smile thinking of your fellatio skills, almost making him blow his load from just your mouth. But then again, he was always into blowjobs from you. The way he moaned for you, how he held your hair back, and when he praised you for swallowing it all like a good girl. You know you’re good at it, but the fact that you love doing it makes it fun for the both of you.

You resume your position, standing with your upper torso against the tree and your ass poked out. Walter is crowding in behind you, landing a few well-placed slaps. He nips at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder while he reinserts himself. Once he bottoms out, he growls in your ear.

With his hands on your hips, he picks up where he left off by thrusting into your wet heat. You don’t know how long you’ve been in the woods, but you realize dusk has replaced the golden hour and more blue hues fill the sky than orange. The slight breeze that twilight brings is comfortable, tickling your skin and causing gooseflesh.

Walter has you moaning his name soon enough, his hips slamming into yours echoing in the distance. He hits a rather sensitive spot inside you and revels in the way you keen when his hand moves to play with your ignored clit. His chuckle in your ear sent shivers down your spine.

“Look at you, trying your hardest to hold on to that tiny sliver of hope that would let you maintain any semblance of control. You’re not in control, darling,” he sighs, picking up the pace on your button. “Now, come for me. Just let go; I’ll be right here to catch you.”

That fucker.

He knows exactly how to talk you into coming all over him and yourself. Your thighs clamp together, trapping his hand and his cock inside you. While your walls flutter around his shaft, he pushes through what insane sensations he feels and fucks you through your orgasm. Talking you through it with cooing words until he can barely form words, let alone sentences.

Your juices cover your inner thighs as his hips stutter, expletives leaving his mouth amongst gasps of air. He coats your insides with his thick seed, still moving inside you until his softening length slips from your folds. You both hiss; you, from the sudden emptiness, and him, from the cold air hitting his sensitive, wet bulge.

Stuffing himself back into his pants, Walter catches his breath. You do the same while you adjust your skirt and then remember your panties are in his pocket. He pulls them out and hands them over when you ask nicely for them, but he just had to hold them out of your reach for a bit to watch you get riled up and huffy. You think about getting angry, but he did just fulfill a fantasy that you’ve had for quite some time. Instead, you just put them back on and stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” he says, stealing a kiss from your lips before grabbing your hand and pulling you in the direction of his truck. “As fun as this was, I think we both need a shower.”

“Agreed, I bet I smell like a woodland creature now,” you laugh, pulling out a leaf from your hair.

“A cute woodland creature though. Like a bear cub or something?” He chuckles when you swat at him.

“I guess it would make sense; you’re my big bear. I’m your little bear now, then,” you joke, not expecting his reaction.

His eyes soften, his smile widening more than you’ve ever seen it. “I think that’s perfect. You’re my little bear. I didn’t think you could get any more adorable. But like always, you surprise me.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead and tugging you back to the truck.

On the drive back, you hold hands as if he hadn’t just railed you in the woods. But the twinges you felt in your sex and the foliage you pulled from your clothing told you that it was indeed real. And if that wasn’t enough, he makes you talk about all your fantasies on your way home. You had finally found someone who not only matched your sexual energy but who wanted to explore with you. 

You can’t wait to check more things off the bucket list.

A/N: I love doing new and exciting things with Walter. Love this man and what he does to my kinky side lol.

[featherandferns]

F.W.B : where are they now?

jj maybank x fem!reader

content warning: mentions of sex; alcohol; violence

word count: 1.4k.

read F.W.B | Thank you so so much for 1000 followers!!! Since starting this blog in May of 2023, I have written so many characters and storylines. I get so many lovely anon messages telling me about their favourite universes and wondering what happens next after my fics have ended. So, I thought to celebrate 1000 followers, I’d indulge. Here’s the (current) where are they now for all of my fics so far…

You land on the mat with a smack. Blood fills your mouth, sticking to the guard, and you spit it onto the floor. It’s an ugly swirl of pink-ish saliva. The referee is going to start counting you down any minute. Your head is pounding, body aching, ears ringing. It’s one of the biggest matches of the school year so the room is packed to the brim. People are cheering and chanting and it creates a dichotomy of pandemonium. For you, it’s the biggest match of your career. The college that could supply you with your dream scholarship and ticket out of a trailer-park life has sent a scout here tonight. They’re here to see you. Clinging onto that, you rock onto your knees and spit once more. The ref has started to count. You close your eyes and try to steal yourself. That’s when you can make it out. 

JJ’s voice carries over everyone else's, singing to you like a siren. He’s hollering like someone’s house is on fire. 

“Come on, baby! Let’s go!” 

Your eyes shoot open and you seek him out. Front row - stood settled between the Pogues who are egging you on - JJ’s clapping his hands and nodding emphatically. He meets your gaze and it hardens you. Ignites you with newfound vigour. You grit your teeth and give him a barely-there nod, and then you’re hopping back onto your feet. A new wave of cheers crashes around you as rock on your toes and heels, readying your fists. You settle your gaze on your competitor. She isn’t that big. Isn’t that strong. You can take her. Picture her face morphing into Kelce’s. Into every person who’s ever wronged you, made fun of you, looked at you the wrong way. Growling, you waste no time in throwing the first punch the minute the ref allows. As your gloved fist meets her skin, you hear JJ shouting. 

“That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s go, mama!”

JJ’s endless support energises you for the rest of the night like an endless line of cocaine. And when your competitor finally taps out, on the brink of blacking out, and the ref holds your arm up in victory, JJ’s celebration is louder than an erupting volcano. 

The second you’re free from the ring he tackles you in a hug. 

“That was fucking insane, baby! God damn! That was hot as hell!”

You laugh as he practically wrestles you in his enthusiastic embrace. He breaks apart from you when you’re ushered into the changing rooms. You speed through the post-match clean-up and emerge in a pair of his sweats (tied double at the waist to keep them from falling down) and an oversized t-shirt from a competition you won a couple of years back. The look on JJ’s face would make someone think that you’re dressed to the nines for the Oscars, though.

He hooks an arm around your shoulder, grinning proud, and the two of you load into the Twinkie with the other Pogues who share their congrats on your win. You still haven’t shaken him when you pull up to the Chateau. Loud chatter warns of your coming as the six of you walk up. It looks the same as always aside from the makeshift banner hung along the porch. It’s made of an old fitted sheet; you can recognise JJ’s handwriting from a mile away. In his familiar scrawl, it reads Well Done to the Sexiest Girl on Earth. 

Amused, you look at JJ and quirk a brow. “Sexiest girl?”

“Just stating facts,” he shrugs with a grin. 

“He needed my help on how to spell it,” Pope chimes in as he walks past, heading for the cooler. JJ prods him in the chest before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you against him. Leaning your head back against his chest, you sigh and let JJ sway you in his hold as the other four chatter. 

“That was a hell of a fight, huh?” JJ says, just loud enough for you to hear. 

Looking up at him, you find his eyes already trained down on you. Smiling, you reply, “I know. I’m pretty impressive.”

“And modest,” he says, squeezing your body teasingly. 

“And sexy, apparently,” you add, referring to his banner. 

“Like that’s a surprise?”

“Mm, you got a point,” you say, playing along. “You might’ve mentioned it a few times.”

“Happy to mention it a few more,” JJ grins boyishly, dipping his head down to meet your lips with his.

You easily twirl in his embrace, coiling your arms over his shoulders to deepen the kiss. His tongue shamelessly slips into your mouth and his fingers slide under your t-shirt. 

“Knock it off love birds,” Kiara calls. 

There’s no hurry to break apart. 

“You guys make me sick,” Pope mutters, collapsing into a chair. 

JJ gropes your ass before walking away just to irritate his friend further. Your cheeks flame hot despite biting back a smile. Your boyfriend flashes you a grin and tosses you a beer. The two of you settle into seats and join the conversation with the others. John B starts up the music and the six of you get to celebrating.

Beer pong and wrestling and impression-offs and dumb drinking games. You and JJ shotgun a beer and once downed, JJ slaps your hand into a bro-like hug and plants a kiss to your lips. The juxtaposition is the perfect summarisation of your dynamic. Jesting and casual in front of others, and sweet and sentimental behind closed doors. He knew the deepest and darkest parts of you, and you him. 

“Thank you,” you say to JJ at some point in the night. “For all this.”

“Course,” JJ replies. He says it like it’s obvious; like it’s ludicrous to think that he wouldn’t go all out to celebrate your success. 

Finishing your beer, you look around the night-casted scene and find your eyes settling on the banner once more. Something occurs to you and you begin to laugh. 

“Wait, what would you guys have done if I didn’t win?” you ask.

“I guess we would’ve taken that down,” John B says, nodding to the banner, “and made it a feel-better-soon party?”

“I mean, celebratory beer and sad-times beer are the same beer, so,” JJ agrees, tipping his bottle up as he makes his point. 

“We knew you were gonna win though,” Sarah says from John B’s lap. 

“The odds were literally stacked in your favour,” Kiara adds. “With the winning streak you’ve been on lately? Girl!”

“That’s actually a common misconception,” Pope says. Everyone groans and JJ tosses a handful of grass at him. “I’m just saying! It’s called hot-hand fallacy!”

“Dude. Not the time,” JJ says.

Pope shuts down his spiel with that. You shoot him an apologetic smile, appreciative of his Pope-like support. A yawn slips out and suddenly the exhaustion from your earlier fight hits at once. JJ seems to notice, always hyper-aware of you. 

“Wanna head home?”

“I’m beat,” is your reply. 

“A’right, we’re off,” JJ announces, finishing his drink with two swigs and ditching the can. He takes your hand to help you out of your seat and the two of you make your way to the drive. The others holler their farewells and final congratulations on your scholarship win. Their indefatigable conversing fades into the soundscape of the night as you and JJ walk back to your house, fingers intertwined. 

“So, college, huh?” he says. 

“College,” you hum. 

“What’d you think that’ll mean for us?” 

You smile and glance up at him, and for the first time in your life, realise that you’re not afraid of losing him. “Same thing as always. Great sex and great company.”

“Just in another city?”

“It’s only Raleigh,” you hum. “Two hour drive tops.” 

“Sides, not like I’ll be going to college anytime soon, so I can just come visit you,” JJ agrees. 

You nod and lean against his arm as the two of you continue to walk. “I love you, y’know? I wanna make this thing work.”

“It will,” JJ assures. “You’re the best sex I’ve ever had. I’ll chase that to Raleigh.”

“Spoken like a poet,” you sardonically return.

His ambush of wet kisses to your cheek has you laughing, pawing him away. His hand finds yours and the two of you finish the journey to your house, hearts intertwined like your fingers, the future unclear aside from the fact that you and JJ would face it together.     

[thecreativeforge-a]

🎶 [for roy and dick >w> what could go wrong]

Roy pursed his lips tightly, chewing on his bottom lip for another moment before fishing his phone out of his quiver, checking his messages. Still no reply. Damn it, Grayson.

Roy sighed in annoyance and put his phone away, frowning as he looked over the city from the rooftop he currently lurked on, bow at ready. He heard something bad happened to Dick, but he wasn't given any details and his questions went unanswered—and Dick wasn't answering.

It was just like him. Something bad happens and he balls up, either blaming himself or not willing to supposedly burden others. Everyone had a different reaction when something terrible happened, but sometimes it was like Dick completely forgot he had friends who were there to support him, and it wasn't just a one way support from him when needed.

His foot tapped impatiently on the concrete, scouting ahead on the warehouse below. He was trying so hard to focus on the mission, but his mind was completely elsewhere. He didn't expect Dick to consider Roy the first person to turn to if he had some emotional turmoil to resolve. Roy wasn't the most sensitive person in the world, even if he was doing his honest best to be as considerate as he saw fit.

So why did he feel so left out? He tried to message, he tried to call... Nothing. What was going on?

[supper-ansuta-broth]

Fun fact! If you flip the current scout story (Mirage)'s banner, it can be read as "2wink"!

(Original on the left, rotated 180 degrees on the right.)

Ahh, that's really cool! I love when scout/event titles include little details like this. This one specifically is a type of ambigram!

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Team Fortress 2 fic banner in the style of the game's achievement icons--specifically, the "Wetwork" achievement. Spy, shown in a red-orange silhouette, is standing in the rain and glaring up at it, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He is holding his disguise kit, which has an indiscernible figure displayed on its screen. On the bottom right of the banner is the chapter's title in yellow-white text, reading, "CHAPTER TEN: WETWORK" /end ID]

Flickering

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: K+ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship Characters: Spy, Pyro, Scout, and all the other mercs. Warnings: General references to trauma, PTSD, panic attacks, TF2-typical violence Fic Description: After the events of the comics, the mercs try to go back to how things were, but it’s never that easy.

Spy can see his teammates going through their own struggles… but something seems to be very, very wrong with Pyro in particular.

And since no one else seems to be doing anything about this, Spy makes it his mission to get to the bottom of what is troubling Pyro. For no particular reason.

Beta Readers: @mechmolar, @gonturan0, @junuve

---~~~---

Chapter 10: Wetwork Summary: In which Spy makes a drastic change of plan mid-match.

---~~~---

Wind screamed against the walls of the base.

The tinge of light through the windows told Spy it was dawn, though the sun was unsuccessful in piercing through the cloud cover. Steam from his coffee mug fogged the bottom of the window. After rubbing his eyes, he took another deep swig from his mug, willing the caffeine to jolt him further awake. Creaks from the floor above informed him that he hadn't been alone in his struggle to sleep. He shifted where he stood by the window.

Staying overnight had not been the plan, but the wind storm had forced him to stay, as it had everyone else at the base. (Soldier had initially insisted on leaving, but changed his tune when the wind knocked his helmet clean off, and he, Demo, and Sniper spent an hour tracking down the stupid hat.)

Spy found himself rooted by the window until a warm, savory smell drew him away and into the kitchen.

"Mornin'," Engineer said, not looking up from his cooking. On the large stove were multiple skillets frying bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes, and hashbrowns, and he worked them as mechanically as one of his machines.

"Omitting the 'good' from it, are we?" Spy quipped.

Engineer did give him a look, then. Even with the goggles hiding his eyes, the thin line of his mouth told Spy enough. Engineer turned back to his cooking.

Spy shrugged, downed the rest of his coffee, and went to light a cigarette using a new lighter he'd grabbed at home a few days ago.

The second he clicked the lighter, Engineer whirled around, holding out a spatula in the Gunslinger. "Not in the kitchen!"

Normally a spatula would not feel like a threat, but it was currently covered in grease, and Spy was wearing his suit. So he backed off, leaving the kitchen with a grumble.

The smell of food gradually drew more people down to the mess hall, starting with Scout, then Heavy, and then a loud, off-tune reveille preceding the arrival of Soldier. Soon the mess hall was filled with the rest of the team, who milled about, most of them eagerly awaiting breakfast. A few stepped into the kitchen to grab coffee, but otherwise kept to the mess hall.

But Spy did not overlook the doorway, where he spotted Pyro lingering in the relatively dark hallway.

A shrill whistle from the kitchen announced that breakfast was ready, and Soldier, Demo, and Scout practically bowled each other over rushing through the doorway. Medic and Heavy followed, chatting quietly to each other, leaving Spy and Sniper to stare at each other from a distance.

Spy held up a hand toward the kitchen in an exaggerated gesture—an offer for Sniper to enter the kitchen next, but not with any intent of kindness. Sniper's look informed him that it was not taken as such, and he passed into the kitchen.

With the mess hall now empty, Spy approached the hallway. "Would you like me to obtain a plate for you?" he asked quietly.

Pyro shook its head, its stance rigid.

Nodding, Spy strode back into the kitchen, moving out of the way of the mercs who carried their plates out into the mess hall. He returned with a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast for himself, and another plate piled with pancakes, sausage, and syrup, as well as napkins and utensils. The atmosphere of the room was warm and the idle chatter friendly, but Spy didn't take a seat just yet. Making certain his steps didn't catch on an uneven floorboard or the foot of a passing coworker, he stepped into the hallway again.

The Pyro had not moved, but it gave a mild start at the sight of the pancakes.

"You'll need the energy, even if you're not hungry." Spy held out the plate.

Pyro looked up at him, and accepted the food, though it made no motion to eat it.

"'Ey, wha'd'you mean, it'll need the energy?" came Scout's voice, partially muffled from a mouthful of food. Spy turned to see the Scout leaning back with his feet on the table and his chair on two legs. "Is it plannin' to set our crap on fire again?" He swallowed, then laughed. "I'd love to see it try, with this wind."

"I doubt it will have time," Spy retorted, "given our match is still on today."

Eyes bugging, Scout jumped up in his seat. "What?! Woah—!" The chair tipped backwards, dumping him out onto the floor, and he scrambled back to his feet to give Spy a look of disbelief. "Are you serious?!"

"Yeah," Engineer said, stepping out of the kitchen with his own plate of food. "No word that it was canceled."

While Soldier gave a hearty laugh at this news, the once-warm mood of the mess hall plummeted considerably.

"This sucks," Scout grumbled, setting up his chair and plopping down onto it again. His fork picked at the hashbrowns on his plate.

Spy tucked a napkin into his shirt and took a seat at the far side of the table next to Demo, who was staring down at his food sadly. No one was speaking, and most of them ate their food with considerably less amounts of energy.

At some point, a syrup-smeared plate and clean fork slid into the mess hall from the hallway, and Sniper, finished with his own meal, rose to retrieve them. He paused at the doorway, peering out around the corner, and grunted. "Well, the wind's stopped, anyway."

Begrudgingly Spy rose from his seat to take a look for himself. He passed Sniper and approached the window again; the wind had indeed stopped, but it was no lighter than it was before. If anything, the clouds had darkened. Frowning, he pulled the window open, and winced at the unusually humid air.

Footsteps creaked beside him, and Spy glanced over, only to jump back as Pyro practically leaped at the window, slamming it shut. Its hands still gripping the window, it drew in a deep breath, which was then released shakily through its filter. Slowly it brought its arms back down to its side, and it looked at Spy.

Spy stared back into Pyro's lenses, an uneasiness creeping up his spine. There was nothing to read in the darkened glass, but somehow Spy knew there was no rage or malice directed toward him. Instead, the air around the two crackled with anxiety.

With no small amount of uncertainty, Spy reached up to pat Pyro's shoulder.

"Let's get to work."

—-

They were not alone in their anxiety.

A quiet had settled over the base, other than the occasional muttering, and the usual rowdy process of traveling to the day's battleground was eerily quiet, particularly when they stepped outside. Where once had been a violent windstorm was now an empty desert landscape, the air still as death.

And humid.

Scout made a noise of disgust the second they stepped outside, but the others mostly grimaced. Pyro was the last to step out, hesitating in the garage before Engineer ushered it into his truck, letting it sit shotgun. Sniper took his van, others took the RED Bread truck, and Spy of course opted to take his own car, deaf to any conversations happening in the other vehicles. But if the team's silence upon exiting their vehicles at their usual hidden parking location was anything to go by, he hadn't missed anything positive.

As the team marched the rest of the way to the abandoned sawmill on foot, Spy shrugged in his suit; it was clinging to him in the humid air. Heavy was already wiping at his brow, Archimedes was ruffling and obsessively preening his feathers, and Scout had a hand under his hat, feeling his frizzing hair with a frown. But even beyond the discomfort, there was a strange, electric tension in the air, one that pulled against everything and nothing at the same time, having no particular direction, but felt by everyone.

The sawmill was quiet when they arrived, as expected, and they were equally as quiet as they made their way up to spawn.

Demo was the first to mount the stairs, and he finally broke the silence with a cry of dismay, followed by a curse.

"What's the problem, private?" Soldier asked, hurrying up the stairs, only to stop. "Oh."

Brow furrowed, Spy followed the others as they all crammed around the top of the stairs, and quickly identified the problem: large portions of the roof had been blown completely away, leaving parts of their base exposed to the elements. "Of course," Spy muttered. "Perhaps our spawn has fared better, at least?"

But when he neared the room, he let out a growl of disgust; the door rattled open at a significantly slower rate than normal, and stayed open—something must have happened to the mechanism. Even the more fortified spawn room had sustained roof damage, with a few of the ceiling tiles also missing and some having crashed to the floor. Wonderful.

Behind him, Heavy stepped into the room. "Hmm. Will have to keep enemies from sneaking in through roof."

"I don't believe so," Spy replied. "They've never sneaked into spawn before, nor have we entered theirs."

"Maybe not," Sniper said, stepping in behind the other two, "but they've fired into spawn before." He let that sink in before stepping over to his locker. "Keep an eye out."

There was a quiet chorus of displeased grunts and groans in response—there wasn't much else to be said, after all, and no one was happy about the situation. Though something else occurred to Spy: "At the very least," he said, "BLU can't be faring much better."

"Nope." The Engineer set down his toolbox with a weighty clunk. "I reckon their roof's blasted off too."

"Hey, sweet!" Scout perked up. "Then we can shoot into their spawn, too!"

Soldier grinned down at his rocket launcher, but Sniper sighed. "Let's just stick to capturin' the bloody point so we can get outta this place before it falls apart."

No one but Soldier could really argue with that, and the mercs went about their business setting up. Though as Spy turned to his locker, he looked back at the others, and frowned at the sight of Pyro staring up at the hole in the ceiling. When he finished readying his tools and saw Pyro still in the same position as before, he approached it calmly. "I wouldn't worry about it," he said, and Pyro glanced back. "I have my doubts the enemy will try to get in through the roof."

Pyro looked back up at the ceiling, gave a barely-audible hum, and shook its head.

"With luck," Spy went on, "we'll finish this match before they even notice."

—-

They had no such luck—at least, not of finishing the match quickly. It seemed the BLU team had the same goal and was just as aggressive in their pursuit of capturing the point. Making the first capture at all seemed to take ages. Every time a team came close, the other was quick to overtake them. Excellent when it was the BLU team losing the capture, infuriating when it was their own.

All the while, Spy was unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, or was about to go wrong. It wasn't difficult to figure out what; every time he was killed—and it was more often than he wished to admit—Spy found himself glancing at the hole in the ceiling, tensing as he prepared for the BLU team to start spawn-camping. Several minutes into the match, however, it had yet to happen, though his fellow mercs cast an anxious glance at it every time.

Throughout the simultaneously frantic-yet-snail-paced match, a crackling tension built between the two teams, neither willing to give in. The tension finally broke when Spy failed to take down the BLU engineer's sentry, instead getting checked by the pyro. He let out a cry of rage as he bolted for safety, only for the sentry to gun him down.

Once he stumbled into spawn, he shook his head and glared up at the ceiling, only to have his view abruptly blocked by an outraged Soldier, followed by a very frustrated Heavy. "What happened?" Spy sputtered.

Soldier charged off with a wild battle cry, but Heavy glanced at Spy. "Enemy medic and heavy came in, fully charged. Took us down. Think they took point."

"Wonderful," Spy growled. Though surprising they did not manage to take advantage of our weakness. He kept the thought to himself for fear of jinxing their already bad situation.

As it turned out, he didn't need to. BLU was aggressive, and maintained their hold on the point, quickly causing RED to lose the first round.

The atmosphere of the spawn room was once again thick with tension as the team prepared for the next round. No one spoke as they patched up their wounds and reloaded their ammo, and a few switched out their weapons. Spy debated on switching to his Dead Ringer, but decided against it—too predictable. His standard watch would do for now.

"Pyro," Engineer said suddenly, and Spy glanced over as the Pyro gave a start. "I'm gonna need some doggone help this time."

"Nein," Medic cut in, looking up from cleaning blood out of Archimedes' feathers. "I have a plan to use it."

"Well, doc, I got a plan for it to use its homewrecker and protect my sentry so we can maintain the blasted point!"

"And how do you propose we capture the point in the first place, hm?" Medic released Archimedes, who fluttered up to perch on an exposed pipe. Pyro's gaze followed the bird. "I can Uber the Pyro and it can clear the point when BLU tries to capture."

Heavy sniffed, crossing his arms. "Heavy can do this."

"Ja, but they will be expecting that, like last time."

Frowning, Heavy nodded. "Is good point."

"You may be useful in providing a distraction," Spy said, taking a step closer to Heavy to join the impromptu strategy meeting. "If the Medic can send us a signal, you can move in on one side, drawing their fire, while I move in on the enemy sentry. Then the Medic and Pyro can move in on the other side." Noting the Engineer about to speak up again, he cut him off. "Afterward, Pyro can help defend the machines."

Medic hummed in thought. "That could work. But as for the signal—"

Scout strolled into the center of the group. "Yo, I'm right here! You're lookin' at the fastest one on the team, yeah? I can send the OK signal, no problem, then join in on some of the action." His final word was punctuated with a swing of his bat.

With a grunt, Demo waved a dismissive hand at the others. "Bah! You lot can do your fancy scheming. Soldier and I have other plans." He nodded at Soldier, who only grinned, laughing.

Everyone's gaze fell on Sniper, who had yet to give his input. He only shrugged. "Well, I saw part of the roof's blown off the main sawmill, so if I can get up there, I can try to keep an eye on things like Soldier does at the Harvest shed."

In spite of himself, Spy smiled. "Well, gentlemen, it seems we may have a solid strategy to win us this round. Engineer will set up his machines, Medic and Pyro will step back until ready, and give the signal to Scout, who will move in with Heavy and me. Once we have successfully drawn their fire, Pyro and Medic will come in the opposite way to clear the point for capture, and Sniper will cover us from above." He cast a sideways glance at Demo and Soldier. "Those two will hopefully not ruin things for us."

"Nope. We'll improve on your silly little plan!" Soldier insisted.

Spy stared at him, deadpan. "Are you planning on rocket jumping ahead of us to take out as many of the BLU team as possible?"

"That is classified information, private!" Soldier exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger.

"Very well, so long as it does not interfere with—"

"Mission begins in ten seconds!"

Everyone scrambled to ready their weapons, while Spy called out over them: "Stick to the plan, men, and we might be back in time for supper." Pausing, he looked over at Pyro, who was still staring at Archimedes. When Medic gave a whistle, the bird fluttered to its owner's shoulders, but Pyro was still staring at where it had been. "Are you all right, mon ami?"

Pyro gave a start and turned to face Spy, but neither confirmed nor denied his question.

"You heard the plan, non?"

After a moment, Pyro nodded.

"Good. Then—"

"Start fighting!"

Spy nodded. "See you at the point, then."

Everyone rushed out of spawn in much higher spirits than they'd started with. Demo and Soldier did indeed wind up literally blasting themselves forward, while Sniper went to see about climbing atop the sawmill. Medic, Scout, and Pyro hung back, looking for a hiding spot while they prepared, and Heavy, Spy and Engineer headed for the mill. Engineer took the high road to position his sentry up above, while Heavy and Spy hurried down the stairs to take the lower road.

Even as Spy hung back, waiting for Scout's signal, he couldn't help smiling to himself; if all went well, this would be a quick victory. Granted, they would need to win yet another immediately afterward, but... one thing at a time.

Yet in spite of their strategy, in spite of the team's enthusiasm, in spite of the fact that they were sure to win this round... something felt off. Spy checked his watch, his knife, his sapper, his gun, his disguise kit—no, they were all there. There was nothing he was forgetting, and yet...

He squinted at his disguise kit, suddenly realizing it was harder to see the buttons than it should have been, and looked up.

When had it gotten so—

The darkened sky was abruptly lit by jagged forks, which were quickly followed by a threatening roar of thunder.

And the clouds burst.

There was a unanimous cry—of surprise, of disgust, of horror—from both teams as the wall of rain collapsed upon them. Spy found himself immediately drenched, his suit clinging to his skin even worse than it had in the humid air. He snapped his disguise kit shut—groaning at the realization that his cigarettes were already thoroughly ruined—and shoved it into his pocket, exchanging a miserable glance with Heavy.

Over all the roaring, hollering, and overall cries of displeasure, there was no announcement postponing the match.

But there was an odd shriek in the distance that sent a chill up Spy's spine, and Heavy gave a shudder. The latter hefted Sasha up, grimacing. "Should we still wait?"

An explosion wracked the sawmill, but this was not unexpected, especially when followed by a whooping cheer from Demo.

"It seems the plan is still on the table," Spy confirmed. "Scout should be here any moment. Admittedly, I thought he would be here sooner, but—"

He broke off when he realized Heavy was no longer listening, but was instead staring, wide eyed, at something in the sky. Brow furrowed, Spy followed his gaze; a streak of lightning illuminated a small white bird, its feathers partially stained red.

Without another word, Heavy bolted back in the direction of the bird, which immediately looped back the way it came, away from the sawmill.

"Mikhail!" Spy cried, furious when Heavy made no acknowledgment, if he'd heard at all. He grit his teeth, preparing to ditch the plan and head into the sawmill alone, when a memory struck him—waking up in the middle of the night, and overhearing a very specific arrangement...

Sucking in a breath, Spy charged after the bird as well, easily outpacing Heavy. Up ahead, they heard a gun fire, followed by the wet thunk of a body hitting mud. Spy's head snapped in the direction of the gun fire, only to see Soldier blasting toward the enemy sniper with a wild cry. It didn't take long for them to pass Scout's corpse, which Spy looked well away from.

Archimedes swooped downward and around a corner, landing awkwardly on Medic's shoulder. The man was panting, his hair hanging over his glasses. His saw was held limply in one hand, his eyes wide and staring blankly at a spot on the ground.

"Doctor!" Heavy cried, approaching him before looking around. Spy did as well; Medic must have taken care of any attackers, but Spy did note with surprise that Medic's medi-gun was not strapped to the man's back, but rather, lying on the ground in a few pieces.

"Seems BLU caught onto our plan faster than we expected," Spy muttered, but Medic shook his head.

"It... it was not BLU," Medic gasped, pushing his hair away from his glasses.

Spy's brow furrowed, but Heavy suddenly perked up. "...Where is Pyro?"

Medic slowly looked up to meet Heavy's gaze before looking Spy in the eyes.

A second later, Spy straightened, his eyes wide as the gears clicked in his mind, and he cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. The notes, Pyro's anxiety at the weather, the fact that it had gone berserk in a battlefield with a running stream... He lunged forward, grabbing Medic by the front of his coat and ignoring Heavy's cry of fury. "Ludwig, tell me—the Pyro. It's injured by water, isn't it."

"Y-yes," Medic stammered, "but it... it's never—"

"It's never had shellshock until now," Spy snarled, dropping Medic and bolting for spawn.

It all made sense—Beatrice had probably figured out that it was hurt by water, and used that to torture it. And then of course the rainstorm had triggered a violent episode of some sort.

Well, their plan was shot, now. But at the very least, he could try to get Pyro to calm down long enough to finish the match so they could get out of this. He just had to—

Spy reached the stairs, and a familiar scream reached his ears.

All thought of the plan fled his mind as he bolted the rest of the way up the stairs, only to stop dead at the sight beyond the spawn door.

Scout was backed up against a wall, his shotgun on the floor several feet away, his bat in his hands (one of which was bleeding). Before him, standing with its back to the door, was Pyro. Its head was lowered, its axe in its hands. Both mercs were drenched, rainwater dripping off of their uniforms, and Pyro was growling, but the sound felt... wrong, for reasons Spy could not immediately place.

"G-get away from me, you freak!" Scout cried, brandishing the bat. "I'll bash your creepy head in! I'm warning you!"

Right then and there, Spy nearly stepped in to call out to Pyro, to draw its attention away, but another sound stopped him: a wild snarl.

Spy froze, his blood turning to ice, as two realizations hit him simultaneously: that the Pyro was making sounds at all... and that they weren't muffled.

Pyro lunged at Scout, who swung his bat to block Pyro's axe. With a dull thunk, the metal head of the axe embedded itself in the wooden bat, and Pyro yanked its weapon back, ripping Scout's remaining weapon out of his hands and flinging it across the room.

"Oooh that's—that's not good—" Scout stammered, looking between the bat and Pyro, who held its axe up silently. After a tense moment, Scout bolted around Pyro, aiming for the door.

For less than a second, his eyes met those of Spy, who was still rooted to the spot.

And at the end of that second, Pyro swung its axe, cleaving Jeremy through the middle.

Abruptly Spy's body was capable of movement, and in one quick motion he raised his gun and shot Pyro through the back of its head. It dropped on the spot, collapsing forward with a loud CLANG as its axe hit the floor.

Spy still stood, frozen in place, his gun still held aloft as he panted, his mind still seeing that look in Scout's eyes before he was killed, his nose still smelling smoke and blood. An old pain radiated through his left knee.

By the time he willed his legs to take him closer to the spawn room, the corpses had already despawned, leaving the floor sleek and slippery with blood and water, the former being washed out by the latter as rainwater continuously poured down from the hole in the ceiling.

...Wait.

Realization hit him, and he darted off to the side of the door just as Scout, still holding his bat, stumbled into existence just beneath the damaged ceiling. Scout buckled, his free arm clasped around his uninjured stomach and his face twisted in phantom pain. A moment later, Pyro spawned directly next to him, and immediately put its hands over its head, shrinking in on itself and giving a strangled cry.

Hearing that, Scout's head snapped over, and he scrambled back, both hands gripping his bat. "Oh, no, no, no, not again—!"

Spy's mind raced—this was just going to turn into a hellish loop of death and respawn if he didn't do something. Even if he stepped in, at best he would kill Pyro, who would just respawn in the rain that would set it off all over again. At worst, Pyro would kill him, and go directly back after Jeremy. There had to be something—something he could do to stop the Pyro from attacking—

A very, very foolish idea leaped into his mind, and without a second thought, Spy whipped out his disguise kit.

While Pyro was cornering Scout once again, someone else stepped into the room, hovering in the doorway. Neither combatant took notice until the figure spoke:

"I like a challenge."

Pyro froze.

Beatrice stood before the doorway, smirking at Pyro. While Scout met her eyes with a look of bewilderment, her own eyes narrowed and glanced from Scout to the door behind her. Scout's brows shot up in recognition, and he bolted for the door.

Pyro swung around to follow him, only to stop when its lenses fell upon Beatrice. While Scout fled the scene, ducking behind Beatrice and out the door, the woman stared Pyro down.

At first, the two stood perfectly still, looking each other in the eyes. But slowly Beatrice began to realize that Pyro was not still; it was trembling, slightly at first, but then its shaking grew in intensity, its grip on its axe tightening until Beatrice began to wonder if the handle would crack. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, in spite of the chill in the air, but her smile never wavered.

Finally she chose to break the silence: "Are you really scared of a little rain? You're more pathetic than I—"

Pyro's face split in half with a room-shaking roar.

Before Beatrice could fully register what had happened, Pyro was charging at her full-tilt, readying its axe. With more flexibility than would be expected from someone of her age and build, she swerved out of the way, trying to keep her eyes on Pyro all the while.

Its face had indeed split down the center, revealing a vertical maw lined with yellow fangs, aside from the very tip—the filter. Its breathing was loud, ragged, and clear, steaming the air around it.

Merde.

No matter how terrified she was inwardly, Beatrice refused to lose her composure; her brow furrowed, her teeth grit. "Is that all you've got?" she taunted, grabbing a weapon of her own—a knife. "Fight me!"

Pyro hardly needed the provocation, snarling as it swung its axe.

Yet Beatrice sidestepped the attack again, countering it with a swipe of her knife that barely missed its target. She grimaced, knowing that it wouldn't work for her to keep dodging. At some point she was going to have to experience pain, as much as her brain was screaming at her to avoid it. Gritting her teeth, she allowed herself to remain an inch too close as Pyro brought down its axe again, this time grazing her left arm.

Sp—Beatrice's cry of pain was strained as she tried to focus her brain on maintaining her appearance. Not yet, not yet, not yet—! Blood trickled down her gloves and dripped down to join the rainwater on the floor, and she swore she saw Pyro's lenses—eyes—whatever on heaven, hell, or earth it saw with—glint at the sight of red.

It swung at her with all the more vigor, and she kept up with the motions out of pure instinct. It was only when her elbow banged against a locker that she realized Pyro had backed her into a wall. Frantically she looked left, then right, before fighting the urge to dodge and clamping her eyes shut. Her body tensed, waiting for the feeling of the axe cleaving her in half.

It never happened.

Just as she opened her eye, a large hand grabbed her by the collar and hoisted her into the air. She gasped as her feet left the ground, and as she stared into the lenses and gaping maw of the Pyro, she realized just how much stronger it had been than she'd realized, and how restrained it had been previously by comparison.

Its jaws closed and opened once, twice, as a shaky breath filled its lungs. "I..." Its voice was shaking, hoarse, and quiet. Beatrice's eye widened. "...will use your blood… to paint a rainbow."

Before Beatrice could fully process this, she was hurled to the ground, cracking her shoulder against the floor. With a gasp, h—she tried to push herself up onto her good arm, straining all the while to not change. Just as she raised her head, Pyro's axe came down on her wrist, and she collapsed again, leaving her hand behind with a shriek.

The axe came down again, the blunt side crashing down into her back and knocking the wind out of her. Before she could hope to regain her breath, Pyro's boot collided with her side, flipping her over. Dazedly she wondered at the fact that Pyro had not turned its flamethrower on her, when the CLANG of the axe hitting the floor broke through her thoughts. The sound was followed by two wet thwaps, and Beatrice turned her head slightly to see Pyro's gloves lying beside her.

"Wait—" she wheezed, struggling and failing to push herself up with her missing hand and busted shoulder.

Instead, something else lifted her, grabbing the front of her shirt and slamming her back into the lockers. Vapors rose from the Pyro's grip, and for a fleeting moment S—Beatrice was terrified that her appearance had faded, only to realize it was not smoke, but steam. Pyro's gloveless hands trembled as it held her, smearing wet soot onto the outfit and exposing the glowing flesh beneath the protective layer—flesh that was turning white-yellow on contact with the water.

"You're... hurt," Beatrice said, forcing herself to smile.

Pyro's eyes flashed, and its grip went from her shirt to her throat, its palms burning hot against her skin, claws digging into her neck. When she gasped for air, nothing entered her lungs, and Pyro's maw angled itself oddly, a dark chuckle emanating from its throat. "What's... the magic... words...?"

Beatrice gagged, kicking out her legs, only for Pyro to kick her in the shin as its grip tightened. Darkness popped into the corners of her vision as blood dripped down both her neck and the Pyro's claws.

"Wrong... answer."

It squeezed tighter, and darkness clouded him. He barely felt himself hitting the ground as Pyro dropped him, and his vision cleared enough in time to see Pyro hovering over him, its flamethrower at the ready... and smoke rising around the both of them.

The murderous gleam in Pyro's eyes flickered, then faded.

"...Spy?" it whimpered.

Managing a weak smile, Spy looked into the Pyro's lenses. "Congratulations," he wheezed. "It seems… you have... killed her."

Pyro dropped its flamethrower, but Spy never heard it hit the ground as the world faded around him.

[scrunckled-idiot]

Heyyyy! :D

this is @scrunckled_idiot (obviously) and ummm… just information about myself here I guess?

About me!

has the incurable bisexual sickness 😔

i am genderfluid so please refer to me with any pronouns you like i really dont mind :3

I like to draw silly little doodles of my favourite fandoms, which is mostly tf2.

I don’t like racists, homophobes, pedos yada yada yada blah blah blah you know the drill ladies and gents.

I’m a bit challenged and I’ll leave it at that.

has crazy procrastination. so if you see a new post, it was probably supposed to be posted a week ago.

i like g/t content cus it makes me feel happy and safe and silly

FANDOMS I WILL DRAW FOR:

tf2 (obviously)

spooky month

batim/batdr

profile pictures or banners for these fandoms

Favourite fandoms:

Team fortress 2

Bendy and the ink machine/dark revival

Half life

Portal

monkey wrench

amazing digital circus

sonic the hedgehog

spooky month

cuphead

don't starve

favourite musical artists:

weird al yankovic

imagine dragons

the happy fits

rare Americans

the hatters

will wood

jack stauber

mother mother

saint motel

tally hall

cosmo shelldrake

tom cardy

fish in a birdcage

the Orion experience

People i consider family on here because I'm lonely irl

@tf2addictedmann-deactivated2024

@melondaskelet0n

@canisxx

@another-delta-lover

@scouts-cosplays

@darkcloudsatnight

@ionlypostmymeemocs

@rainderthesomeone

@tf2-pony

@moon-0f-m4rs

@bluespace-skull

@circushaven

current ocs! (in order of apearence):

mary hall (the first oc)

Sunny Agafonov

unnamed monster medic oc

kus

pocket merc

✨my AO3✨

current progress on my g/t helmet party fanfic "rusted iron helmets"

planning: 95%

chapter 1: 29% 10 pages

⬆️current word count: 5269

*cough cough* my YouTube but idk if i'll post anything- *cough hack wheeze*

Ghastly little thang - YouTube

current (some not so secret) anons:

🚬anon

🪶 anon

@back-flipping-anon

🍭 anon

🌟💜 anon

💀🌌 anon

🌺 anon

🐰 anon

ASK ANSWER PROBABILITY TEIR LIST!:

🪨common🪨: text posts. one sfm render.

💚uncommon💚: shitty little sketch.

🪻💎rare💎🪻: mini comic.

✨🌟epic🌟✨: polished traditional sketch. 9 page+ comic

⚔️❤️legendary❤️⚔️: gif by me

🎞️🌌mythical🌌🎞️: video by me

tags i own:

#g/t merc shenanigans

#scrunckles collage sketches

#scrunckles fanart

[green-scout-tf2]

HEY! LOOK OVER HERE! AT ME!

Do ya even know who I am? I’m Jax, aka Scout.

Well, my full name is Jaxson but I’d rather ya not call me that

I know what you’re thinkin’, ya only eva see the red and BLU guys around here.

But I’m different, I’m 🟩green🟩, aka the best color

Go ahead and talk ta me, I already know everyone wants ta

Who wouldn’t? Just look at me!

Oh, my current pfp was made by @brokensenseofhumor!

They seem pretty sick, ya should check ‘em out

This image was made by @jysian, they’re also really cool!

Ooc and rules below cut

Hey, it’s Atlas. This is like my 5th blog so I already got the gist of it. The only rule is no straight up nsfw, also no spyxscout

That’s really it

Magic anon is allowed and encouraged

If there’s anything im uncomfortable with im just going to delete it and go on with my day

Scout might bully y’all sometimes btw, I promise that’s not me talking I’m just trying to stay in character

My main blog is @iaminyourbones if you wanna check that out

Btw if someone wants to make me a better banner then I won’t stop ya (def not me hinting that I really want a better banner)

[rimeswithpurple]

Thank you so much @talentpiper11 , @monbons & @mooncello for the tags! I'm currently waiting on butter to come to room temperature so I can make cupcakes for a Girl Scout bridging ceremony. I also stayed up way too late last night sewing all of the badges on Little Purple's vest.

I'm so excited that COBB is drawing closer! I can't wait for everyone to see what my writing partner and I have been doing. I'm working on a banner and part of me wanted to do something quick and simple, but the other part of me wanted to try out a more painterly style instead. So that's what I'm trying out 🤣 I'm so proud of the lemon peel! It was a moment that I legit felt like an artist

No pressure tags and hellos below!

@messofthejess @blackberrysummerblog @valeffelees @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @thewholelemon @larkral @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @fiend-for-culture @cosmicalart @that-disabled-princess @cutestkilla @noblecorgi @iamamythologicalcreature @best--dress @emeryhall @ileadacharmedlife @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs @whatevertheweather @rbkzz @ebbpettier @whogaveyoupermission @theimpossibledemon @katatsumuli @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @theotherhufflepuff @onepintobean @orange-peony @hushed-chorus @fatalfangirl @ic3-que3n @bazzybelle @nightimedreamersworld @martsonmars @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @alexalexinii @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @raenestee @skeedelvee

[akutagawacide]

i fill my calendar with stuff i can do maybe if i'm busy it could keep me from you and i'm pretending you ain't been on my mind but i took an interest in the things that you like, ah

— "usually people want autographs, this is a first." loading. . . oikana !!

◟volleyball setter x volleyball setter (canon), idols (au), golden retriever x black cat, flirty x shy, cocky x humble, both perfectionists with inferiority complex, heavily misunderstood together, gets out-of-hand x puts him in his place, sunshine protector x sunshine, actively playing x retired player, high school sweethearts, younger rival's older sister.

◟tooru, kawa, ruru, ru, baby, sir, asshole (jokingly) // ana, sia, baby/babygirl, princess, darling, sweetheart, kitty.

◟first meeting. anastasia and tooru had a.. kinda rough (official) first meeting. as kageyama tobio's older sister, anastasia also attended kitagawa daiichi junior high in tooru's year, serving as one of the girls team's setters. outside of class, tooru never really noticed her until she turned up to one of the boys team's games to support kageyama. they officially couldn't see eye-to-eye and it only got worse at aoba johsai.

◟current situation. after they graduated from aoba johsai, anastasia was scouted by japan's national womens volleyball team and was their starting setter while tooru went abroad to play for club athletico san juan in argentina. they stayed as a long distance relationship until tooru told her he was going to denounce his japanese citizenship and in turn, anastasia retired from volleyball and moved to live with tooru in argentina. she now coaches volleyball at a nearby junior high.

◟playlist. out of my league, fitz and the tantrums / someone to you, banners / do it for me, rosenfeld / come my way, plvtinum / espresso, sabrina carpenter / don't you know, jaymes young / hold your breath, chase atlantic & more.

◟artwork.

@/stopisa

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Oathsworn brainrot: Soma

This doesn't even scratch the surface, and there's 2000 odd words under the cut. This entire AU was built around Soma. I am unwell. As a big supporter of women's wrongs, the fact that in the game's canon, she allegedly managed to piss off the entirety of Mercia within a couple of years of being in England appeals to me greatly. That's a nefarious feat. Her hands are bloody.

The whole Oathsworn premise post is linked here.

The King isn’t a tactful man, and managed to piss off a very powerful nation overseas just a year after his coronation. They’re cunning merchants, and equally as cunning on the battlefield. The Danes are governed by a war council, led by Guthrum Jarl, with formidable politicians and warriors seated beside him.

Guthrum does not like the acting King. But neither side would profit from an all-out war. Your kingdom has money and connections from trade that the Danes (creatively named) didn’t want to compromise. And in terms of prowess in battle, your army didn’t stand a chance. Tensions were high, with neither side willing to escalate things past sanctions, a few shot messengers, minor sieges of neutral territory, and a lot of threats.

Three years ago, the King – bored of current circumstances – acted against the advice of the court and ordered a disproportionately sized infantry unit to attack a very small encampment flying a Dane banner on neutral ground, breaching the peace. He smiled while the council were left to develop one hell of a contingency plan. Thirty men sent to kill three or four Danes, according to the scout.

One soldier returned, his right leg dragging limply behind him, utterly harrowed. He trembled, wide-eyed and halfway retching as he recounted how the one Dane who survived the ambush sprinted into the swamp with thirty men on her tail. With a single axe, murky water and the darkness of the night, she cut down the infantry. She sliced the sole survivor’s heel and forced him to watch her butchery of the twenty-ninth soldier. Then she escorted him back to her camp. Cleaned and dressed his wound, purely so he’d live to tell the tale.

The court froze with dread as he gave a description of the woman. Specifically at the scar, ragged and deep, cutting through her face from her ear to her nose. That woman was Soma: one of Guthrum’s most trusted councillors, and something of a nightmare to your kingdom’s soldiers.

Your court anticipated full retaliation. However, they were met with diplomacy. Despite the breach of unspoken contract, Guthrum had no intention of returning the gesture, still believing that the price of a war wouldn’t be worth its rewards. He arranged to visit the kingdom with his war council after sending a draft of a new peace treaty, full of mutually beneficial trade outlines, but pending one unfinalised condition.

Soma, looking like Soma does, caught your immediate attention upon the Danes’ arrival. She immediately recognised you as the crown princess without introduction, despite the King’s children also being present. She knew something, and that was unsettling, but she was courteous nonetheless. Her smile was warm, her eyes betraying her calculation. You weren’t completely in the dark yourself, though – the scar was unmistakable. This woman could likely take on all the Kingsguard in the room without the help of her colleagues. Whatever their game was, she was an integral player.

Guthrum said he was content to forgive the King for his misdeeds, and while the phrasing angered his Majesty, the animosity was silenced by the treaty’s very generous terms. The Danes saw profit in an alliance, but needed a reason to believe the King would honour it. After this, Guthrum nodded to you and bowed politely; word of your stride towards free public education had reached their shores, and he found it an admirable goal indeed. No wonder your kingdom spoke fondly of their heir, he remarked.

His caveat to the treaty was simple. Your court, by now, was familiar with the capabilities of Soma. Guthrum had heard of the Oathsworn tradition. Soma was prepared to abandon her port and her seat at his council in favour of swearing the Oath. This way, if the King was to lash out again, she would be within striking distance to take the life of the kingdom’s crown jewel – and your death wouldn’t be painless. The oath would be sworn with him and a noble of your choice present as witnesses, and it would be sworn.

Very few people in the court were aware of the King’s intention to eventually dethrone you, and he was in no position to refuse the treaty. The Danes did not come without reinforcements. He agreed to the terms, signed the papers, and you asked your queen mother to bear witness. She was sickened by the thought of the Oath being sworn under these circumstances, suspecting her husband’s intentions regarding his succession, knowing your life was doubly at risk here. But she agreed, because it wasn't up for negotiation.

That same evening, yourself, Soma, a priest and the two agreed-upon witnesses took to the chapel. She recited the sacred vow, never breaking your gaze. Her tone was steeled, but there was no mistaking her contentment to abandon the tenet, should it be asked of her.

The first attempt on your life occurred a mere month after the Oath ceremony. The assassin concealed the family crest of one of your kingdom’s nobles on a cufflink. He struck when you were checking in with the headmaster of a school you recently built, dealt with swiftly by Soma, who shadowed your public appearances. She was professional – positioning herself between you and the attacker in a suit of armour she had yet to adjust to, incapacitating him. The visit was cut short as she wrapped you in her cloak to mask your identity, leaving the other guards to formally arrest the assassin.

She had an authoritative, no-bullshit attitude about her as she used her newfound influence over the royal guard – a perk of the position given the politics – to organise an inquiry, presenting to the King the engraved cufflink found on the assassin. No doubt, she took pleasure in getting information out of him, but how she handled the inquiry made it clear that your life was paramount, and you took peculiar solace in this. The conspiring noblewoman who sent him was soon tried and punished accordingly. Soma insisted upon standing in as her executioner.

You cursed yourself as your defensive, wary demeanour around her cracked over time. There were other attempts on your life, and she took her role as your Oathsworn seriously, seemingly more so with every new perpetrator. Beyond duty, though, she showed you kindness. And as you learned about one another in your close proximity, you grew fond of each other. A profound respect was building, and it was mutual.

At one point, you both had problematic revelations. You had never felt safer around the woman tasked with taking your life, should the causal circumstance arise. And Soma realised she had no desire to act on that kill order. You made a promise to her: when you were queen, you would grant her deeds to the kingdom’s port, because she had once confessed to you how she mourned that part of her old life, and the gods knew she could bloody run it. She pondered the promise being empty, but dismissed the thought. You listened to her in a moment of vulnerability. This changed things.

A dalliance was inevitable, but this was neither fleeting nor inconsequential. Your affection for one another, your devotion in all its intensity, was a secret well-kept from all eyes, ears and quills.

And it was intense. Fast. Hasty, even. The threat of a sudden awful change loomed over you both, leaving no time for courtship. Butterflies were reserved for the newfound gesture in Soma’s hand on your back as she escorted you through crowds. Her solitary company was filled with dizzying kisses, passionate rendezvous under the moonlight and unbridled laughter.

At first, your mutual desire for physical intimacy was overwhelmed by a sudden anxiety in your closeness. There was the persistent fear that the kill order had been given, and that Soma was waiting for you to be at your most vulnerable before she ended your life. It choked you, frustrated you, but you were honest with her. The first time it happened, Soma assured you that she would sooner cut off her hand than lay a harmful finger on you. She thanked you for your candour, bidding you goodnight with a comforting smile and a chaste kiss to your knuckles. She would not lay with you until you felt safe enough to trust her with your body, and she wanted you to realise this safety on your own. With time, that safety came about. You made love, and confessed that love shortly after.

Your relationship introduced a new variable to the political equation. Until the present, you tried your best not to question any loyalties. Foolish as it were, you were content in the illusion of security.

With his reign coming to an end, though, the King is under pressure to secure the line of succession for himself and his children before he’ll be forced to abdicate. Never having had a penchant for patience, this urgency is beginning to seep into his actions in court. None of the assassination attempts were successful. His co-conspirators are dwindling in their numbers; those who haven’t been convicted of treason are succumbing to fear.

Truthfully, he never anticipated Soma would honour her vow, nevermind with such ferocity. He had hoped one of his carefully organised, bloody fates would befall upon you, and her subsequent execution would bury the evidence of his crime. But she complicated things terribly, and in his frustration, he begins to suggest processions that would put the treaty at risk. Gambling merchandise due to be exported form your kingdom to Guthrum. Proposing a mandatory armistice for all Danes in the kingdom. Inquisitions, the likes. All fortunately talked down by the court, but not without rapidly building concern.

You and Soma begin to see through the cracks. The King isn’t intelligent, but he also isn’t naive enough to accidentally compromise the kingdom’s safety. As your step-siblings begin to look at you through a different gaze, you're forced to navigate court with a pit in your stomach. Conversations with Soma following the string of conspiracies only reinforced the idea that foul play is at work.

Soma caught word some weeks ago that Guthrum’s war council had undergone a few changes of seats, and not all of the new councillors share his ambitions. They seek conquest. She suspects they’re in contact with your King, most likely manipulating him into pushing for political moves that would spiral the kingdom into a war you would certainly lose.

Her fears reside in whether Guthrum could have a change of heart, or if he would be willing to isolate you from the actions of the King with your coronation inbound. There is every possibility that the King could overrule the democracy of the court regarding one of his rash decisions, and the kill order would be given. There would be war, and if she refused to take your life, she’d be an enemy of her people – her family – as well as your own.

Yet when she confides in you, distressed, it’s abundantly clear that Soma doesn’t see a dilemma in all of this. She paces about your quarters and thinks aloud, knowing you’ll always lend your ear and comfort to her. If all negotiations failed, she would rather live as a pariah than betray you. The idea of taking your life is unfathomable.

Amidst a sea of uncertainties, you’re unable to avoid doubt. Those panicky feelings from the early days of your relationship are resurfacing, as much as you want them to stop. Your heart yearns to trust Soma. You hear the truth in her words, the humanity in her voice, but you can’t shake the fear that it’s an elaborate act. Your apprehension hurts her. It wounds you both.

A bitter few days pass by. You’re sick with worry, unable to sleep. Questions of if she’d do it bleed into how she’d do it. Your mind lingers on poison, to the extent where you employ somebody to taste your food and before you so much as touch the plate.

Soma knocks on your bedchamber door one night with a goblet in hand. She lets out a pained breath when you flinch away from it. It’s a sleeping aid, she tells you gently. It’s agonising to watch your health deteriorate under paranoia. You are her heart, after all. As difficult as it is to acknowledge your wavering trust in her, her love for you has not lessened.

You’re exhausted. And scared – not just for your life, but for the future of your kingdom. Apologies flood from your lips as you crumble before her. Soma can’t stop herself from holding you. Tears of her own escape as you sob at the sensation of her embrace, trembling in her arms as your sleep-deprived, anxiety-riddled mind tries desperately to refute that immediate feeling of safety.

It dawns that neither of you have the luxury of certainty in anything but each other.

Tenderly, after a small eternity in each other's arms, Soma asks if she can renew her vow, right here. She wants you to hear her Oath anew, her tenet solemn, devoted, and devoid of political motivation. Fuck the chapel, the priest, the gods. Witness be damned. The only blessing that matters is yours.

You give it to her.

[worlddaikokonat]

For anyone looking for a new rhythm game and/or a game with canon yuri to play, the game World Dai Star: Yume no Stellarium is currently celebrating it's 0.5th anniversary with a new main story chapter, a festival banner and reruns of previous banners.

World Dai Star is a mixed media theatre girls franchise whose main entries are the anime of the same title and the mobile rhythm game. It features both original songs and cover songs such as Stellar Stellar, Phony, Snow Halation, Ano Natsu ga Houwa Suru, Tokyo Shandy Rendezvous and more.

It's set in a world which had a huge theatre boom in the middle of the 20th century, which resulted in the field of theatre acting becoming so crowded that some people developed mutations which gave them acting superpowers called 'Senses', which can range from increased athletic ability to mind reading to de-aging while on stage. The very best actors are classed as World Dai Stars, with only a small number of people worldwide claiming the title.

The anime follows a girl named Otori Kokona as she joins the theatre troupe 'Sirius' and starts her journey towards becoming a World Dai Star. Kokona has been repeatedly rejected during auditions as they say she lacks a Sense, however she has her best friend Shizuka supporting her in her dreams no matter what. As it turns out though, no one else can see or hear Shizuka. As the show progresses Shizuka becomes visible to others and it's revealed that she's actually Kokona's Sense and although many mysteries remain around her, with her help Kokona's acting starts to shine.

World Dai Star: Yume no Stellarium is a direct sequel to the anime which continues to follow Kokona and the rest of Sirius while introducing three new troupes, Eden, Gingaza and Gekidan Denki.

Eden is a subversive troupe led by the young lesbian genius Renjakuno Hatsumi, which creates unique plays with controversial subject matters and has a dangerous reputation with the more mainstream troupes in the area. Bar Hatsumi, whose Sense allows her to suppress other's Senses, all members of the troupe have Senses which can act as double edged swords.

Gingaza is one of largest and most prestigious theatre companies in Tokyo and scouts for actors internationally. The environment at the beginning of the game is both hyper competitive and unfriendly and the members rarely befriend each other, but that begins to change when Ramona Wolf arrives from Germany.

Gekidan Denki is a troupe which focuses on 2.5D performances such as anime adaptations. They are a relatively easygoing troupe made up of various kinds of otaku and their dedicated fans are very enthusiastic. However, due to changes in the economy of Akibahara the troupe isn't as profitable as it used to be, and the threat of closure is often hovering above their heads. The story starts when a cosplaying anime otaku named Iroha, who quit acting when she was young because she has no Sense, joins the troupe with her best friend Mito.

The rhythm game aspect has been praised for it's three finger Olivier charts and high level of user customisation, which you can see in the linked video and read more about in the English language fan guide. It uses a system called Star Acts for it's scoring system. The team building and score increasing aspects are more in depth than most rhythm games and are considered one of the major draws of the games for people who like meta aspects.

The card art is always high quality and in particular often has excellent lighting.

The original songs are also highly praised, and the game has many covers like the ones mentioned above and ANIMA, Turing Love, Fleeting Lullaby and Hide and Seek. You can see three different difficulty levels with three different songs in the videos below.

In addition to the rhythm game section, there are also 3DMVs with customisable cast members and outfits and Photo Spots where you can dress members up and take photos of them in daily life situations. There are also 3DMVs of plays such as The Phantom of the Opera in the game, which have scripts written by a professional playwright.

For the yuri, there's a lot of potential pairings who openly flirt with each other, but more explicitly Renjakuno Hatsumi is gay and is in an open relationship with Lilja Kurtbay of Gingaza (first pic below). She cruises around town in her car hitting on girls on most days and regularly goes on dates with the girls she picks up. She's hit on most of the girls in the cast at this point and about a third of them like it. Also, the most loved up pair in the game are Senju Iroha and Shiromaru Mito (second pic below), and the official Twitter account of the game liked a post of rainbow flags replying to one of the Iroha/Mito 1komas that they posted.

(There's also this from the anime.)

Since the 0.5th anniversary banners and events are ongoing it's a good time to start the game, you can download it through QooApp. The game was laggy for Android on release and the reviews reflect that, but the issue was fixed in the first month and it now runs smoothly. All of the main story chapters, all of the key story events and some other events are translated to English, link is below.

[deep-blu-askblog]

Welcome to the Deep BLU Base

A TF2 OC Askblog run by @the-slender-doll | All the initial ocs featured here are owned by @the-slender-doll as well as the majority of art created for this ask blog.

Icon art and new banner art by @the-slender-doll

Introduction

Welcome to the Deep BLU Base where there are currently five contracted mercenaries living with each other in between jobs right by the coast and the sea.

We currently have a group consisting of a:

Sniper [He/Him]

Spy [He/Him]

Medic [He/Him]

Pyro [They/Them]

Scout [He/Him]

All are full of their own personalities and it's like a big dysfunctional family at this seaside base! It's not like they have anywhere else to go.

Rumors have it more mercenaries are to come to the base but only if they prove to work as a good team to begin with!

What wild adventures would they get into?

That's for you to decide!

Please keep in mind:

Anon and non anon questions are welcomed!

Keep the questions sfw and appropriate as TF2 is a 13+ fandom

The mercenaries do work best with direct questions but if you make it vague, they will answer to their best abilities! Please also specify which mercenary/mercenaries you want to answer your question(s)!

We try to keep to TF2 canon as possible but we do have some liberties due to these mercenaries being ocs!

We encourage crossover interactions with other askblogs!

Please be patient with answers to asks as the mercenaries tend to be busy with missions and will answer in time! (aka admin will try to get to it asap)

All asks usually will be given drawn traditional art style replies!

Admin might pop in with commentary marked with "-🦑"

That's it! Enjoy your stay!

[jadeazora]

A new Message from the Masters Team is out now!

Lear is our Lodge Pair for this month starting Oct1, but you'd have to recruit him from his Hoops Scout banner first:

New battles in the Battle Rally and Secret Titles will also be added Oct1.

The Academy Founding Chapter event will be added Sept30! It will take a new approach to story and lore!

Overviews for Giacomo and Clavell!

Giacomo & Kingambit are a Dark-type Strike Sync Pair, with the Tech EX Role. Their Perfect Kowtow Cleave Buddy Move can attack all opponents and gets more powerful the more Giacomo & Kingambit's Sync Move ↑ Next effect is increased. It also attacks while ignoring the target's Passive Skills that would reduce its damage, Passive Skills that would protect the target against a critical hit, and the target's Enduring effect. One of their Passive Skills increases their Sync Move ↑ Next effect by a number of ranks equal to the number of Pokémon that have taken damage when an ally takes damage from an opponent, and their Spin You Up Good! Trainer Move can increase their Sync Move ↑ Next effect by two ranks.

Clavell & Quaquaval are a Water-type Sprint Sync Pair. Their EX Role is Field. Their Liquidation Dance Buddy Move can attack all opponents, gets powered up the more their Speed is raised, and its power is not lowered even if there are multiple targets. Using it removes all of their Speed increases, but they can raise their Speed by one stat rank by using their Aqua Step Move. Also, a Passive Skill of theirs doubles stat increases when their Pokémon raises an ally's stat with a move, so you can boost their Speed over and over and use their Buddy Move!

Special Monthly Event Happy Prize Box will begin on Oct1! In this event, you'll pull from the Prize Box using Happy Prize Box Coins that you can earn from the Log-in Bonus held during the event or from daily battles to earn rewards. The grand prize for Pool 6 of the Prize Box is a Fair-Exclusive Scout Ticket. You can use this ticket to team up with either Sygna Suit Wally & Gardevoir, Sygna Suit Morty & Ho-Oh, Elesa (Classic) & Emolga, Sygna Suit Cynthia & Kommo-o, Marnie & Morpeko, or Sygna Suit Red & Charizard from a Scout guaranteed!

Early to mid-October will see the return of the Alola Chapter Villain Event, as well as a Legendary Gauntlet, an Ultimate Battle addition, and a new Solo Event.

And the part that's going to go over oh sp great with the fanbase, especially after how unpopular this anniversary was: The update for late October will introduce a new strengthening method for some Sync Pairs. Once a Sync Pair has reached 5/5, you'll be able to upgrade them up to five additional levels. Up to the fourth of these five additional levels, there will be fixed boosts for each Role, such as stat increases and power-ups for Moves, Sync Moves, and Max Moves. The fifth level has one fixed Passive Skill for each Sync Pair.

This update is currently planned to be an enhancement for Fair-Exclusive Sync Pairs. It will be applied to new Fair-Exclusive Sync Pairs that debut from late October onward, as well as to all existing Fair-Exclusive Sync Pairs in three installments: in late October, late November, and late December.

[dgrailwar]

Round 1, Day 2 - ALTER-EGO versus RULER

"…Tactically, we should be scouting, but it'd be nice to get to know each other first, right? Perhaps an icebreaker--"

A bladed leg swung down from the air, aiming straight for the neck of the Ruler. A perfect swing, in every regard, especially if the enemy was caught off guard--

There was a heavy clang in response, rather than smooth decapitation.

With almost inhuman instinct, the initial strike was blocked by the banner that the blonde Servant held, an echo ringing and reverberating throughout the air. They remained locked for a brief moment, before the Ruler let out a shout and pushed the Alter-Ego back up into the air.

"Not the kind of 'breaker' I was expecting… Masters, stay sharp! An enemy Servant!"

"…Oh, you're not bad. And I was expecting something boring." The Alter-Ego sneered, landing on the ground gracefully.

The Ruler spun her banner, slamming it into the ground with a heavy thud as she stared towards her opponent. "I don't know which Servant you are, but if you're here to fight, then so be it. Let us do battle!"

Ruler was Playing Defensively, but cannot be caught off guard! Her boosts remain!

The current augmentations to the final polls are:

Jeanne d'Arc: +5% Meltryllis: +6%

Servant Skills:

Jeanne d'Arc (Ruler):

Magic Resistance (EX Rank): Jeanne cannot be affected by demerits, no matter how severe. 

Revelation (A Rank): If she is attacked while ‘Playing Defensively’ she gains a +2% boost. When engaged in one-on-one battles, she gains +3%. When engaged in a Free-for-All, instead of the Ruler Class-trait of +3%, she gains +4% instead.

RULER-CLASS Servants are keen-minded and level-headed. When they engage in a 'Free-for-All' battle, they gain a consistent +3% boost, that cannot be taken away by other skills or Noble Phantasms. If engaged while 'Playing Defensively', they are not caught off guard and can battle normally.

Meltryllis (Alter-Ego):

Melt Virus (EX Rank) - When engaged in a Free-for-All, inflict all foes with a -3% demerit. If Meltryllis gains 1st place in the Free-for-All by a margin of 10% or more, inflict a -3% demerit to your foes for their next round and gain a +3% boost for your next combat round.

Crime Ballet (A Rank) - When engaged in a one-on-one, increase the Alter-Ego Class Trait  one-on-one boost to +5% rather than +3% (+6% if targeting a Servant that's Playing Defensively).

ALTEREGO-CLASS Servants fight at their best when given a specific target. When engaged in a standard one-on-one confrontation, they gain a +3% boost. If attacking a Servant 'Playing Defensively', they gain a +4% boost instead.