#paper scissors rank

[raredrop]

as someone who went from fearing chargers, to sometimes using chargers, to maining them (and by them i mean mostly just the e-liter scope i used more in 2 than i do now)

watching people who do not play chargers play the e-liter for the first time or any sort of reason i just go YUP THATS IT START CRYING UNTIL U HIT A SICK SNIPE AND THEN BASK IN UR SECONDS OF FAME THAT NO ONE ELSE CARES ABOUT

[rin-the-shadow]

I have a sneaking suspicion that the winner of the Joker Sexyman Competition will ultimately be the one that the voters think would be funniest to have win.

Why?

Because it's a Joker poll.

[apas-95]

How do you not realize your Marxist ideology is false when it says shit like a trans black woman small business owner is oppressing her cis white man employees?

I don't think you're, like, genuinely asking, or are curious, here, but I'll answer anyways, for everyone else who might be confused on issues like this: it's intersectionality.

You could make this argument about essentialy any axis of oppression - 'how do you not realise your LGBT ideology is false when it says shit like a cishet black person is oppressing their white trans gay employees', or, conversely, 'how do you not realise your racial ideology is false when it says shit like a white trans gay person is oppressing their cishet black employees'.

The point here isn't to have a rock-paper-scissors, Pokémon type-effectiveness ranking of which axes of oppression 'outrank' which others, it's to understand that each axis of oppression is an entirely distinct social system that overlaps with the other. A black business owner suffers from the social system of antiblackness, and benefits from the social system of capitalism. The specific overlap of their blackness and their class character also gives them an entirely unique character with regards to their segment of society. If they are USAmerican, for example, in their specific case the state and progress of the national liberation movement in the US means that they make up the rear of the revolutionary movement, despite being themselves petit-bourgeois. These systems of oppression are qualitatively different, and cannot be simply, quantitatively, summed up against each other.

With this in mind, it should be understood that the Marxist understanding of class as the principal contradiction does not mean that class is the most important, overruling factor, and that other axes should be ignored. Class is considered the principal contradiction because it is the contradiction that all other axes of oppression, genuine in their own rights, grew out of. Antiblackness was created by the slave trade (not vice-versa), and the slave trade was created by the growing European bourgeoisie's need to extract surplus-value, in the collapse of the Feudal economy. In the example you gave, the petit-bourgeois business owner exploits the labour of her workers, and is supported in doing so by an entire legal, political, and philosophical system based on the expropriation of the proletariat. She is also herself repressed and exploited on the basis of race, gender, and transness. These do not cancel each other out. However, given the ultimate source of racial, patriarchal, and cissexist oppress is political-economic class, her ability to genuinely fight for her interests in those fields will be hamstrung by her class position - just as her ability to attain and maintain that class position in the first place is itself hamstrung by her oppression in other fields.

Ultimately, there are no simple rules that society can be flattened down by. Each and every instance and scenario must be investigated in its own right. The idea that people are driven to Marxism because it provides an easy or simplified way of looking at the world is (perhaps unfortunately!) wrong, it actually means a lot more work!

[oh-obrien]

GRID ACE 0.2

GAMER READER X Lestappen SMAU

Summary: Reader is a Red Bull e-sports athlete who happens to catch the attention of two particular drivers with her streams

PART TWO BABY WOOT WOOT. I've never seen anyone really mix twitch streams into these so let us see how I did!

And my requests for these are open!!

All pictures are from Pinterest!!!

Reader has various face claims!

Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part

Xx.y/n.xX just posted

tagged @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, and 9,678 others

Xx.y/n.xX another race weekend or something like that

-> yourbestfriend she’s oh so casual about it too

-> Xx.y/n.xX they had good lattes I’ll keep going

-> Redbullgaming I'm sure there were plenty of Red Bulls also 😉

-> Xx.y/n.xX admin is going to lock me in a cage if I say espresso and coffee are actually my choice of caffeine intake.

-> Maxverstappen1 She took a sip of mine, I feel like that has to count

-> Xx.y/n.xX he did share his cooties with me so I could steal a sip

-> Landonorris with the way she behaved she needed to be locked in a cage

-> Xx.y/n.xX you're uninvited from game night. @ Danielricciardo there's a spot open now!

-> Danielricciardo I'LL BE THERE

User1 Is no one going to comment on the nails

-> Xx.y/n.xX they played rock, paper, scissors to decide what merch I wore and what nails I did.

-> Danielricciardo who won

-> Xx.y/n.xX me when I broke up the fight after cheating allegations got thrown around.

-> Maxverstappen1 @ danielricciardo I won.

-> Charles_leclerc no.

-> Xx.y/n.xX he actually did Charles...

-> Maxverstappen1 officially the favorite

-> Xx.y/n.xX OKAY I didn't say THAT

Redbullgaming those nails look like those of a traitor

-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm sorry admin but you can't get rid of me I carry too hard 🫡

-> User3 there hasn't been a stream in a few days I miss watching my queen carry daily

-> Xx.y/n.xX keep your eyes pealed 🍌

-> Redbullgaming 👀

User4 so is this a soft launch, or a hard launch, or a best friends launch?

-> User5 THATS WHAT I WANT TO KNOW TOO

-> User6 like no word from ANYONE on any of this

-> User7 I mean it could be contract related with RB Racing and RB Gaming but then why would they also be constantly hanging out with Charles? It seems like other drivers also now too.

-> User4 EXACTLY if it was just y/n and Max I’d be like oh RB is looking for some cross promotion to grow fan bases but 🫣

Scuderiaferrari please never wear Red Bull merch in our garage again

-> Xx.y/n.xX @ Charles_leclerc your admin is threatening me

-> Charles_leclerc It isn’t a threat you just look better in red

-> Maxverstappen1 wrong.

-> Xx.y/n.xX he's kinda right actually

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Landonorris just posted

Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX, @ maxverstappen1, @ charles_leclerc

Landonorris Come watch me and y/n destroy Charles and Max in a custom match before we play some unranked.

User8 Lando finally gets to stream with y/n!!!

-> User9 this group keeps growing like weeds

-> User8 it’s actually really cool to get to watch the boys stream with a girl who’s just good at what she does?

Yourteammate1 so this is why she wouldn’t get on with us??? Traitor @ Xx.y/n.xX

-> Xx.y/n.xX bite me 😘

Liked by @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc

-> Yourteammate2 you probably taste bitter anyways

User10 Y/N collecting F1 drivers like they’re valo agents

-> Xx.y/n.xX I’ve still got some to unlock!!! (I want to unlock Carlos next he seems cool!)

-> Danielricciardo rude

-> Xx.y/n.xX oh I already unlocked you, learn how to play valo then we'll talk old man.

User12 I NEED to know who everyone mains!

-> Xx.y/n.xX tune into the twitch stream to find out 👀

Redbullgaming we're always looking for new talent to join the ranks

-> Xx.y/n.xX sorry admin he vroom vrooms for the orange team

-> User13 she calls McLaren the orange team she's so unserious

-> Landonorris @ Xx.y/n.xX we're actually Papaya

-> Xx.y/n.xX semantics

-> Landonorris I'm dyslexic

-> Xx.y/n.xX so am I and I know what that means...

Charles_leclerc come watch me and @ maxverstappen1 carry!

-> Xx.y/n.xX carry the bottom of the scoreboard maybe

-> Maxverstappen1 if you're this mean all the time you're never staying with me again

-> Xx.y/n.xX your cats like me too much, I am one of them

-> Charles_leclerc she did blend in with them rather well napping in the sun.

Liked by @ maxverstappen1

User13 SHE STAYED WITH MAX IN MONACO???

-> User14 DETAILS 👏

-> User15 y/n is totally going to spill the beans on her stream

-> Xx.y/n.xX or will I?

-> User14 PLEASE, she strikes again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Xx.y/n.xX is live on Twitch!

Y/N: I beg of you, I am on my knees BEGGING you both, please don’t embarrass me this time.

Lando: You know they’re going to.

Max: I take that very personally.

Y/N: And I take you going 4 and 20 last game very personally.

Charles: How do I put out my teleport again?

Lando: Remind me why we let him play Chamber?

Y/N: He’s French, Char insisted I’m afraid. It’s E Charles, you press E. Okay Max and what does Omen’s blind do?

Max: It blinds teammates too.

Y/N: Lando stop laughing!

Lando: I'm sorry! It's too good!

Y/N: You are not sorry and we both know it.

Yourbestfriend: I’m just here for a good time not a long time.

Y/N: No you are in this game for the long haul! I’m going to take the spike and push on to A and if I’m not drinking by the end of this half or if more than two of us make it to the end of the round god has performed miracles.

Lando: I’ll flank!

Charles: Can I go with Lando?

Y/N: Sure, ba- Char.

Max: I’ll go with the girls!

Yourbestfriend: Roadtrip to A site!

Y/N: I’m going to go get the alcohol shortly I can feel it.

Max: I fell off the side.

Y/N: Im definitely going to get the alcohol now.

Lando: New drinking game, take a shot every time Max falls off abyss.

Y/N: I like being tipsy not dead, thank you very much.

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪

Y/N: Someone in chat has asked what I am doing in Monaco and where I am staying.

Lando: Creepyyyyyyyy

Max: Judging by the cat in her lap I would assume she's staying with someone with cats

Y/N: Judging by the two men in the background of my stream I am staying with Max and Charles is over.

Yourbestfriend: and she didn't invite me, rude

Y/N: Someone needed to watch my cat, thank you very much

Max: I want to try another character.

Lando: No.

Y/N: No.

Charles: Can I try someone new?

Lando: Try sitting in spawn this game Charles

Y/N: Here

Max: For those unaware Y/N has now gone to look at characters with Charles

Charles: Oh she's cool!

Y/N (through Charles' mic): I play her or her if I don't play Neon.

Charles: First one!

Lando: For those with no eyes Charles has now locked in Fade and he is in his goth girl era after not being able to get more podiums yet this season.

Y/N: Be nice or you're not coming out to brunch tomorrow!

Lando: Is no one going to comment on that

Max: I’m definitely not

Yourbestfriend: She’s always like that I’m not surprised

Y/N: Don't test me Norris

Charles: I really wouldn't

Max: Yeah please don't

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪

Y/N: Max please stop staring at the ground you literally play video games somewhat professionally. And I know, it’s not this game but for the love of god LOOK the fuck UP!

Max: You’re dead stop talking

Y/N: I’m dead because you blinded me as I was pushing on to site and I ran straight into like three of them!

Charles: You’re still dead!

Lando: SO ARE YOU! Max why are you shooting at their fucking feet?

Max: Fuck, I died.

Y/N: YOU DIED BECAUSE YOU’RE SHOOTING AT THEIR FEET! Okay, new round, we can do this.

Lando: Y/N is no longer using her inside voice, it has now gotten serious.

Charles: What gun do I buy?

Lando: Nothing you’re going 2 and 10

Y/N: You can’t buy what you need. Here, I’m not buying this round.

Charles: It’s pink! This is the cat one!

Max: Can I have a cat one?

Y/N: No we’re both poor. I’m poor because I bought Char you’re poor because you’re bad.

Lando: They’re going to think he’s your pocket Sage with that skin.

Y/N: They both might as well be. I’m gonna ult.

Max: You’re gonna what?

Charles: Pocket what?

Lando: She’s going to run around and electrocute the other team.

Max: Oh that one!

Yourbestfriend: It's like she's your sugar daddy but the girl version and with kills not money.

Lando: A Valo sugar mommy.

Y/N: One, I'm going to scream soon, two.

Charles: oh she’s good at this.

Lando: You’re just bad mate, and it's her job.

Y/N: three, shut up this is literally my job, four.

Lando: See! It's her job!

Y/N: LET ME ACE PLEASE MAX YOU ARE SHOOTING THEIR FEET AGAIN AND- FUCK

Max: I GOT ONE!

Yourbestfriend: HE GOT ONE!

Y/N: Yes, yes you did an amazing job.

Lando: I’d like to announce to the world that Max is officially going, drumroll please, 3 and 11!

Y/N: Would you like to share our KDA’s Mr. Norris?

Lando: Why of course Y/N! While Max and Charles have a collective five kills our lovely top frag is going 28 and 3 while I am going 15 and 5.

Yourbestfriend: I’m going even!

Lando: ahh yes our middle frag who still has more kills than Max and Charles combined!

Charles: I’m getting better!

Y/N: sure Char.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

User16 NO BECAUSE SHE COVERED IT UP SO FAST

User17 I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAUGHT IT

-> User18 NO! I totally caught it also

-> User17 and then she called him Char?

->User18 NICKNMAE BASIS ALREADY

User19 I wanted to talk about her staying at Max's while she's in Monaco!

-> User20 Or whose WAG she wants to be

-> User16 If you watch Y/N's streams she doesn't need to be anyone's WAG

-> User20 All I'm saying is it's suspicious that she had been to two GP's and is taking a little trip to Monaco and they haven't seemed to be friends that long

->User21 just because they only recently started streaming together and just because Y/N only just went to her first GP's doesn't mean they haven't been friends behind the scenes

User22 Max was in her liked starting almost a year ago

-> Xx.y/n.xX the devil works hard but fangirls work harder!!!

-> User16 OH MY GOD

-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm everywhere, no one seems to remember that!

[hangesdarling]

Can I ask for hate sex with hange?

(Hope this fits within your rules!)

commitment — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. Commander Hange find it difficult to commit into a relationship with you. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, biting, leaving bite marks, vaginal fingering, oral sex (hange receiving), overstimulation, panty stuffing, scissoring, angst, alcoholism, teasing, dirty talk (lmk what else) WORD COUNT. 4.1k (i got carried away 😭) A/N. School may be killing me but at least I get to write this angsty smut for Hange (sorry for taking so long anon, and yesss, this fits with my rules 💕)

Your privilege from birth remained an indelible mark and only strengthened when your father rose to rank in the military police brigade. Those itchy elegant clothes at private parties, or of wearing a proper pin-up dress when you want to cross the road without a word of judgment became a pervasive familiarity.

Maybe even freedom contorted itself to your comfort and safety for you only saw Titans in those publications. Hange thought of you as an entitled woman untouched even by the dust from Shiganshina as expected from someone who lived in the inner walls from birth. 

But you love playing with fire. You love Hange's esoteric yet strangely fascinating eye bored through you across that expansive room. It was full of people in the usual fancy setting you were used to. Empty words were exchanged through them as if a common meeting could create another layer of peace to prevent such bonds from breaking. 

However, tonight was not so tasteless when you're exchanging wordless conversations and suggestive glances with the Commander of the Survey Corps. 

The party was not fascinating but the eventual meetings that followed were. For some time, your father almost believed you were interested in a position in the military from how you frequented the headquarters. Your surreptitious meetings with Hange came once a week, turning twice or thrice later on. Eventually, their vision of you as an entitled woman shattered under one kiss followed by sloppy lovemaking in their office. 

"So you weren't so stuck up after all," Hange mused, their lips stained with the gloss from your lips. 

"And you weren't so sophisticated, Commander." A teasing smirk rose on your lips, fingers circling the angry kiss marks trailing up from their chest to their neck. Your hips mounted to reposition yourself in their lap, earning an appreciative smile from them just for your boldness. "Taking me right here in the office? Really?" 

Your banters flowed like fluid robbed of viscosity, a free-flowing connection to the soul. Hange has this charming, relaxed smile, a glimpse of their youth smothered by the weight of responsibility on their shoulders. Your presence became a prying tool, each loving word uttered lifting the heaviness within them. 

You relished on those weekdays you had to pretend that you were not fucking the Commander. A sensational thrill shot through your body, even to the tips of your toes just from writing each lipstick-stained letter, each lewd word placed upon paper to be mailed directly at their office disguised as a formal letter. 

Lately, your meetings have thinned to twice or thrice a month, putting intense yearning upon waiting for a familiar letter in your mailbox. It wasn't frequent but Hange had a way with words, and it was enough to make you read their letter the way a devotee reads their bible. 

However, upon another chance of meeting after such intense longing, you found Hange in haste, bounding your conversation into half an hour based on how the clock on their wrist ticked. 

So you hugged them, you nestled your head on their chest like you always used to as if doing so would merit their stay. 

"Sweetheart, I really have no time for this," their tone sounded apologetic, as if in repentance for your yearning bounded by their time. "Say what you want to say, Y/N."

"Tell me, Hange. What are we?" It was soft yet so pointed that Hange stirred from your touch. They can't find a way to scoot around the topic with your tone of adamance. Their lips pursed into a thin line before sighing. 

"Y/N, we've talked about this." 

Your fists clenched at their olive uniform, your face remained buried on their chest. 

"But Hange... We've been seeing each other for such a long time now. And I..."

Hange knows you cannot finish your sentence, each word snatched from your mouth for fear of sounding pathetic. 

"Y/N, look, I wasn't carved out for such a commitment," they pulled away gently, lifting your chin to look at them and letting go eventually when you shook their hand off. "I care for you, Y/N. But we can't do this now." 

That's what you always say, you wanted to scream out. That this wasn't the right time, that it would be best to keep things this way not to hurt each other. You always do this as if there was always a better time than now.

Your hand clenched around their coat once more then let go all at once. Hange's watch ticked twice.

"I hate you," your lips moved in scorn, in an angry desperation to not burst into tears. It took all Hange's strength to not argue back, to resist your statement and pull you back in their arms so this parting wouldn't hurt as much. Their watch ticked again and like any other meetings, they didn't have time. 

Hange sighed, squeezing your hand and letting it go as they stepped back. "I'm sorry, Y/N. We'll talk about this when I get back."

Your eyes welled with tears as their footsteps grew fainter from where you stood frozen. You tried to walk away silently but the sound of their train leaving clutched you in an urge to scream. 

-

Maybe Hange was right that being in an official relationship wasn't any better.  I have to grow up, you told yourself. Hange has this mature view of things that smothers their imaginative side. Their decisions felt like the safest yet most terrible ones you couldn't wrap your heart around. You grew up knowing that things you want would materialize the moment you wished for them. It contrasts all the harsh experiences Hange had outside the walls all those years ago, not only fighting titans but the corrupt humans themselves. This isn't a fairy tale, Y/N, your mind spoke in Hange's voice. 

But you want to stop longing, to await for a love that does not dither, for a piece of commitment you could hold onto each time you wait for Hange to come back. Just the slightest verbal evidence that you're the person they come to as a lover. But your attempt to get their heart in your care failed once again. 

Maybe you were never their lover. You're just another one of those women they invited over for a fortnight of pleasure. You just happen to last long enough because they weren't tired of you just yet. You scoffed to yourself, pouring yourself another drink later that night day when Hange left. They should be getting on the ship as of this time based on your estimate. Another few weeks of not seeing each other, but this time parting with such bitter words. 

I hate you. 

Did you truly mean it? Maybe you hate their choice, but not them. Or perhaps it was irritating how much you cannot fully place hate on their name even if you tried.

You drank the bottle of wine to the last droplet, mind considering a visit to your father's headquarters early that morning. 

-

Not long ago, you earned a temporary job in the headquarters as an excuse to see Hange. It was rather tedious but you're not aversed about reading lengthy reports and sorting them when you could always meet the Commander afterwards. But with Hange's absence, the papers were getting more difficult to bear that you had to avert your eyes from the pile for at least an hour. 

However, you left the room later on, remembering you shouldn't have to bear with such things when you have a privilege placed on your name. You could always pay that kind soldier trying to help you out. But later that noon, he won't accept monetary payment, but rather a chance to take you out on a drink until night. 

Perhaps it wasn't such a bad offer since you needed a drink yourself. A splash of alcohol might hopefully erase Hange's face from your mind. You haven't even written a single letter since they left and planned to keep it that way. 

The bar where soldiers of low ranks weren't as sophisticated, and the cheap drinks tasted unique. Your first drink burned your throat but you were too thrilled by the new environment to even protest. You tried to imagine Hange in place of the guy next to you. Hange would have looked at you in amusement, maybe even tried to down a bottle to show you a glimpse of their previous life before they became Commander. 

But that daydream blurs and vanishes into a tasteless reality as you down a few drinks. This place only reminded you of Hange's absence, an environment far too cruel for you to bear. It was clear that you wanted to leave the bar and cut that night short. The man who brought you here has been a help in your tipsy state, and much to your distaste, he began a shaky confession of why he brought you here. 

His hands were cold when they met yours, you wanted to roll your eyes at how he was trying to meet your eyes. You're beautiful, you're friendly enough. I always see you frequent the headquarters. 

Shallow confessions, you thought to yourself, and yet it all sounds tempting especially now that the alcohol was kicking in. 

You tried to kiss him mid-sentence, tasting the cheap beer on both of your lips. His lips felt strange, unfamiliar, and almost cold from the air outside. You retracted almost immediately, the tempting whispers of the alcohol in your system diminished all at once. It was a terrible kiss and it will never feel good when your lips keep searching for Hange's sweet and loving ones. 

You're not one to toy with other people's feelings but the kiss stirred and hazed your mind back to soberness that you ran away into the frigid night. You tried to wash away the taste with another glass of wine when you got home but the feeling of betrayal lingered.

But then again, it wouldn't be a betrayal to Hange because you were never theirs. They've made it clear a few more times than enough. 

We can't do this now. There wasn't an ‘us’ to begin with. 

Later that midnight, you tried writing several letters addressed to Hange but none felt right. All ended up in a discarded pile beside your bed, your inked hands unwashed as the alcohol inched you closer to slumber. 

-

Returning to Paradis without you in sight made the morning all the more bitter for Hange. Not a letter from you, nor an answer for all the letters they sent while they were away. They remember the hatred laced with your words the last time you saw one another. 

Against all the bitterness nestled within them, they remained wishing that you never meant your words. 

Later that afternoon in the headquarters, they wanted to come to you but decided against it at the last minute. They need a few hours to themselves. Maybe for sleep or other things. However, Hange cannot sleep now that their mind is occupied not just by the pressing issues in the military, but also by you. 

They thought of your sweet, blushing face in their hands whenever they kiss you, or how you make a seat for yourself in their lap whenever you're in the mood to be playful, but above all that, they longed to feel you after such a tedious time away. Their mind was plagued with questions of where you were and what had happened while they were gone. Do you still resent them? 

However, their questions were beginning to be answered in such an unlikely manner when they overheard a conversation among soldiers drinking at work. The Commander wanted to burst in and admonish them for misbehavior when they heard your name being spoken along degrading words. A slut. A woman easily persuaded by an invitation to drink. Hange proceeded to listen, fists clenched as the soldier you kissed not even a week ago decided to warp his story of rejection to your disadvantage.

Hange glanced at these soldiers, remembering the names and faces they would subject to grueling military work later that day. They forgot their tiredness and went out of the headquarters to look for you.

-

Hange didn't want to believe that man's words. They placed their trust in you to that extent. However, their reasoning shattered when they heard it from your mouth. 

You resent them because seeing them makes your heart ache. You wished to hurt them the way they did when they broke your heart. 

 "I was never yours, Hange. You've made that clear several times so why bother to snoop around to what I'm up to?" you glared at them when they stood blocking the way out of your room. 

"Are you telling me these things because you're bored of me and wish to have a new plaything, or is this your petty attempt to make me mad?" Hange gave you a tired glare, arms crossed over their chest. They were too exhausted to deal with your temper at that moment and wished for a more civilized conversation. 

Your brows rose from their claim and said, "I'm not one to find playthings, and toy with them until I'm satisfied. Maybe you should look at yourself, Hange."

Your attempt to storm out of the room was interrupted when Hange caught your arm and brought you back to face them. "You think I'm toying with you?" Their tone only indicated that you managed to anger them with that statement. 

"What am I supposed to think when we only met several times just to fuck each other and yet you seem revolted by the idea of even calling me your lover?" you jabbed a finger on their chest, your tears more unbridled than that of your last meeting. "Was it easier to dedicate your life protecting a hopeless, godforsaken land than loving me?" 

Your claims were making Hange snap but they couldn't let themself lose control now. 

"You misunderstood me entirely," they muttered as if speaking any louder would prompt them to break. "And don't you dare call Paradis hopeless. You know nothing about it."

"You think so low of me, don't you? You think I'm too stupid to know what's happening here?" you argued, hastily wiping your tears so they wouldn't blur your vision. "It's obvious we don't understand each other. Maybe it's better if we stop all of this entirely."

Their grip on your arm tightened unconsciously. "You don't mean that," they scoffed. 

"Don't challenge me, Hange. You must be a fool if you think I can't replace you," you said coldly, earning a glare from them. Hange couldn't hold themself any longer, the frustration from work coupled with your behavior towards them irritates them further. 

They swiftly locked the door and pulled you towards them, arms circled tightly on your waist. Their face was centimeters away from you, their warm breath brushing against your lips, "This is not what I'm expecting when I come back here, Y/N. You're such a clever girl so you must know what I'm feeling right now."

Their hand went to the back of your head, lips touching yours as they whispered, "I'm so damn fed up and not just that..."

Hange dragged you back to your bed, forcing you to sit down. Their silent aggressiveness scared you when they slowly pressed their body against yours, their frame caging you firmly like one would do to a prey. Your legs dangled over the edge as their knees pressed on your sides. The bruising kisses they gave dug into your skin, almost like Hange was trying to tear the soft surface apart until you bled. 

"Hange, not here," you hissed, pushing on their shoulders. They groaned on your neck and gathered your wrists over your head.

"Don't act like this is the first time I fucked you here," they retorted, completing the cruel necklace of love bites surrounding your neck. Hange rolled up your skirt to your waist, their other hand pushing at the back of your thigh so you would lay open for them. 

"My father's at home, you asshole."

"I don't care," they replied almost immediately. "Let your father hear us. Let him know I'm already defiling you so he'd force me to marry you. After all, that's what you want, right?" 

"You twist my words," you argued. 

"I'm just learning from you," Hange muttered, their desperate lips now kissing on your chest. Hange could feel that your wrists were starting to relax on their grip. "Do you know how much irritates me when you think I don't love you?" 

"Maybe you should ask yourself why I think that way," you shot back. 

"If I'm so terrible in your mind then let me prove you otherwise," Hange told you like a firm promise, letting go of your hand to undo your clothes to the last button. Their hand kneaded on your waist, finding their way to settle on your breasts. 

You hated how much your body leaned into their warmth, of how you let yourself become so vulnerable and bare in their eyes. Your resentment felt so shallow when you fall apart every time their hands touched you.

Hange breathed onto your neck, their hand passionately locked around yours while the other glided over your folds. You gave their neck the same treatment from earlier as you left bruising kisses on their skin, making sure that their subordinates will see through the marks even with their uniform. 

Hange kept your moans muffled with their mouth, their usual loving whispers gone and replaced by a desperateness to have you, to make you come all over their hands once more. Your fingers gripped and dug into their uniform, the coil on your stomach tightening with each thrust. 

"Hange..." you whispered their name and repeated it like a fervent prayer as their lips never left your body. You clamped a hand over your mouth as your hips rocked against their fingers.

"Louder, sweetheart. You want people downstairs to hear you, right?" Hange smirked, their lips and thrusts both deepening as if in punishment for the moans you were trying to muffle. They tore your hand from your mouth and bit on your skin, earning a whimper from you.

You desperately closed your legs in between their hands but Hange only pulled them farther apart.

Come again for me, sweetheart, they would whisper, and you would collapse onto them over and over again the way rocks gently wear away against the crashing of waves.

Hange pulled their calloused fingers from your dripping cunt, groaning when they felt your teeth biting them again once more.

You wrapped a leg around them, shifting your body weight so you could straddle them. Hange felt your hands ripping at the zipper of their pants, the button securing the band disconnecting from the fabric.

 "Ease down, Y/N, damnit," they grunted as you strip off their button in haste. You bite on their lip as you kiss, letting them know you're in no mood to be gentle nor loving like you always used to. Your passion was coarse and carnal, grating through their flesh. Your hands found their underwear, slipping it off their legs without letting them say a thing.

You balled the fabric into a loose gag before stuffing it on their mouth. Your lips curled into a smirk before kissing their forehead, saying,  "You talk too much, Commander, it’s irritating. So you better keep that on until I'm done with you."

Hange groaned softly, patiently watching you settle in between their thighs. Your eyes bored onto theirs as the soft pad of your thumb circled their clit. Their hands found your hair, gripping onto them the moment your tongue glided along their slit. Hange whined at how torturously slow you used your tongue, getting them to the edge and pulling away when they needed it most.

Hange kept their mouth stuffed as you wished but proceeded to brutally use your mouth later on in accord with their liking.

"That's right, put your mouth to good use," they grunted, spitting out the gag later on, their inner thighs pressing on your head as their cum smeared your lips and chin. They delivered a wet, warm kiss on your lips, fingers resting on your chin as they said, "That's a lot better than arguing with me, don't you think?"

You groaned at that remark, yet your stamina was too depleted to protest when they're shifting you into another position. 

"I'm tired, Hange," you mumbled. 

"And I'm not, Y/N," they answered back, lifting your leg so they could settle in between. "I'll stop once you cease this bullshit with me, and handle your temper so we could talk."

"You wish," you rolled your eyes. 

Their hand circled around your throat as they inch closer to your face and spoke, "Then shut your mouth and take it."

Hange pushed your legs further, your soaked entrances meeting. Hange groaned as they felt the friction building up close to their pelvic region. They gave your throat a light squeeze as their hips moved against yours. You pulled onto their collar for a kiss, distracting both of you from how the bed creaks just by your movements escalating to roughness. 

Your intimacy was full of marks, of bites that drew blood. Your bodies moved in such a way where a stronger emotion could be felt other than desire. Perhaps it was longing, or an immense unresolved yearning of two hearts who could only find understanding through the flesh. 

Hange's lips trembled against yours as they came, their grip loosening so their hands could trail along your back. They placed a band of love bites that turned to purplish bruises, their tongue licking along the ones that managed to bleed. It took a while before your breathing stabilized enough.

Hange untangled their body from you and dressed up silently a few minutes later, mumbling about how it was getting too late, that it would be suspicious for them to stay. You're too tired to sulk as you shift your body to turn against them, finding comfort from the warm sheet encasing your body. Fine, just go, you wanted to mutter in defeat. 

However, Hange walked over to you, kneeling down so they could meet your eyes once more. They tucked the stray hair from your face as they spoke, "I'll talk to your father first thing in the morning."

You were alerted, brows creasing as your eyes tried to scan their intentions. "For what?" 

"Well," Hange sighed softly, playing on the loose strands on your face. "You have quite a traditional family so I'll formally talk to your father about us. I hope to merit a positive response."

"But I thought you don't want a committed relationship with me..."

"I know I told you that several times before," Hange traced a thumb over your cheek. "Truly it scares me because I know what I'm like. I can't give you all my attention, Y/N, and I don't want that to hurt you. But I've hurt you several times already because of my refusal. My fear is not worth breaking your heart over."

Their solemn gaze met yours, and you could feel another layer wearing away from them. Another vulnerability they're willing to hand over to you. You couldn't have guessed that they would bare their heart this way.

"Hange..."  There are things you wanted to say but couldn't find one where you could subdue your intense, profound appreciation. Your hand went to their cheek, gathering their warm skin onto your hand. 

"Y/N, you deserve more than I could give you. I can't promise to be everything you wished for. And perhaps it scares me terribly that you'll end up hating me for it," Hange continued, their gaze softening. "But I'll try, alright?" 

"Alright," you smiled, absentmindedly fixing their collar and tugging on it as a subtle plea. "Could you... stay for a bit longer?" 

Hange's responsibilities await like an undesirable visitor at their desk, waiting for them to get through their office door and pounce upon them. It thins their energy and will, a fuse burned into blackness within their heart. Staying with you would only create another opportunity for work to pile up higher, and yet, they couldn't find the heart to refuse. They felt like a charred, pitiful wick that once burned brightly. Your loving embrace, and intoxicating touch, your insistent love they cannot shut down for much longer— all made them forget their inanition and diminished vigor within.

"Of course I can stay," Hange smiled before letting themself sink back into your embrace, drowning themself into your depth until they couldn't breathe. 

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[paperandpencilsandskips]

Alright time for another rock paper scissors match

This time your choice goes against the Option that is neither leading or winning

[kitkatscabinet]

Kinktober - 07 Accidental stimulation/dry humping/public

John Price x afab reader

A/N: Bit of a shorter one than usual

Whoever had decided that Simon should be driving was officially at the top of your shit list. The man was a walking advertisement for regularly retesting the elderly in order to let them drive. He hadn’t laughed at the joke, after which he’d painfully reminded you that you were the second eldest on the team barring Laswell. 

Laswell was currently ranked second on your list, a newly elected position as usually, you adored the woman, but with her addition to the car, there were now 6 people instead of the usual 5. 

It’s probably only the fact that Ghost is the largest that he’s driving and the boys had made Kate take shotgun in an uncharacteristic show of chivalry that had led to your predicament. Soap was sitting behind Ghost, Gaz as the smallest guy had been shoved into the middle and your captain had taken the last seat. Leaving you to be forced to perch yourself on someone’s lap. 

A lost game of scissors paper rock later and you were sitting on your captain's thighs, his incredibly thick and delicious thighs, with your back settled against his chest and his large hands gripping your hips tightly. 

The dirt road was far from smooth and as Ghost hit yet another pothole head-on, you accidentally ground down on Price’s thigh as you tried to keep your balance. 

Luckily your soft moan was drowned out by Soap swearing as his head ricocheted off the ceiling. Unluckily, you were so wet and painfully turned on that you were sure Price knew, he had to, especially since you were sure you’d soaked his pants. 

You’re quickly proven correct when his grip tightens to the point you’re sure will leave bruises tomorrow and he lets out a nearly imperceptible groan. Your eyes widen and your apologies die on your tongue as you whip your head around to stare at him with wide eyes. 

His beautiful blue eyes have nearly turned black his pupils are that dilated and your eyes follow his tongue as it darts out to wet his lips. “Shit darlin, you gotta stay still” he roughly whispered into your ear and you involuntarily shudder. 

Another swerve from Ghost sends your ass sliding over your captain’s crotch and you both gasp at the sudden pressure you’ve accidentally placed on his hard cock. Your embarrassment and shame die down and morph into something far hungrier as you realise that he’s just as affected as you. 

Sliding your eyes to your right you quickly make sure Gaz and Soap haven’t noticed what’s happening right in front of them. Laswell’s asleep in the front and Gaz has joined her, his head lolling onto Soap’s shoulder no matter how many times the Scotsman tries to push him off. 

Experimentally, you shift your hips under the guise of readjusting, having to bite your lip to stop from moaning as Price gasped and rested his forehead against your spine with a heavy exhale. After taking a few seconds to compose himself, Price pulled your back flush against his chest once more, resting his chin on your shoulder and keeping his face from the view of the rest of the car's occupants. 

“You brat, told ya to stay still, didn’t I? What? Can’t even follow orders anymore?” He snarled as quietly as possible into your ear. His teeth sink into the skin behind your ear in warning and it’s your turn to yelp when he punctuates the movements with an upward thrust of his hips. 

The new position puts a greater strain on your clit as the fabric of your pants had ridden up. Between that, the bumpy road and Ghost’s shitty driving and The feel of Price’s large thick body beneath you, you want to cry from how overwhelmed you are. 

Especially when it becomes evident that Price is no longer content to let Ghost’s driving control the pace. Burying his face in your shoulder to muffle his own noises, he uses his grip on your hips to subtly move back and forth over his clothed, twitching length. 

You’ve bitten your cheek so hard in an attempt to muffle your moans that your mouth has filled with blood, even then you think Soap knows what’s happening if the devious smirk he keeps throwing your way is any indication. 

It doesn’t take you long to cum and you are sure your underwear is beyond saving at this point. To your horror, your captain doesn’t let you catch your breath and the loud yelp you let out at the overstimulation as he continues to grind your limp body down against him is loud enough that it wakes Gaz. 

Your captain isn’t done, however, and it seems he no longer cares who hears you moan like a whore. If anything, the way he smirks against your neck as Gaz’s hand suddenly sneaks up your thigh lets you know he’s more than willing to spell out what’s happening to his men. 

(You didn’t think it was possible but Ghost’s driving gets even shittier)

[wishesunderthestars]

The King's Advisor // Ch. 1

Pairings: King!Yoongi x Advisor!reader

Summary: The king's advisor is the most crucial position in the kingdom, the king trusts her judgment and always listens to her opinions and advice. They are a formidable pair but behind closed doors, the king and his advisor bicker and throw back-handed insults at each other more often than not. The feelings of dislike are very much mutual. She is a champion at testing the King’s patience because she knows she is too valuable to his rule to face repercussions. So it’s bickering and sarcasm dripping from their lips–

Until war breaks out.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.6k+

Warnings: war, injuries

“Well, that was stupid,” you said, leaning back on the chair and crossing your legs.

Yoongi, who had just closed the wooden doors of the council room, turned to look at you with raised eyebrows. The meeting of the King’s Council had just ended and it was just the two of you left inside.

“I beg your pardon?”

You huffed. “That boy isn’t ready to be a captain, he isn’t ready to be a lieutenant even. He doesn’t have the barest idea of how to lead, he can barely fight himself. The fact that his father used to be captain doesn't mean anything.”

“His family is one of the most influential in the kingdom, I couldn’t deny him the position,” Yoongi said. “I don’t want any disputes with them and there would have been a lot if I didn't promote him to his father’s position.”

You leaned your elbows on the long table. “You could have given him a smaller team, told him you would promote him to a larger one when he was ready. Would you trust him to lead a hundred men into a battle? Or defend a city? Because I wouldn’t.”

Yoongi stood opposite you. His long blond hair was pulled up into a neat topknot with a gold and black headband securing it in place. “His family wouldn’t be happy with that. They would question whether I trust them and whether they have done enough for the kingdom.”

“I, for one, don’t trust them,” you said. “They have been salivating after the throne for years, looking for higher and higher ranks in the military and positions in your council. If anyone ever tries to overthrow you, it will be them.”

Yoongi put his hands on the table, bending forward. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why they don’t have a seat on my council and why you are here instead of their eldest son.”

“If their eldest son were in my place, you would already be dead,” you said getting up.

“Watch your tongue.” Yoongi gritted his teeth, a fire burning in his eyes. The day had been hard on him, he had been in meetings since the morning and he had several hours of sword fighting practice as well. It was easier to rile him up when he was tired and you were the only one who wouldn’t pay for it.

You got up and sauntered up to him. “And if I don’t? You know as well as I do that he won’t be a good captain. He isn’t ready for it and he might never be ready for it. His team will be a liability.”

“I know what I’m doing. An incompetent captain is better than a family with connections like a spiderweb planting words against me.”

“If I heard word of that, I would cut off their webs with silver scissors. They aren’t the only ones with connections,” you said. “Things are tense on our northern borders, we shouldn’t be treating military positions lightly.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, up close you could see the reflection of the candles in them. “The-”

A knock on the door interrupted him and you both turned to look. The door opened without any announcements or permission from the King. Namjoon walked inside, his short brown hair combed back, splashes of ink on his white sleeves, and a few papers in his hands. Namjoon was the only person other than you who could barge into the council room like this and face no repercussions.

He took one look at the two of you and closed the door behind him.

“What are you arguing about this time?" he asked. You rolled your eyes and Yoongi scoffed. "Forget it, I don't need to know. We have to go over these papers so get comfortable."

Wordlessly, Yoongi sat down on the chair at the head of the table and the two of you took the ones next to him. Namjoon had missed the meeting because of these papers so they had to be important.

You and Namjoon were the King's most trusted members of the Council. The three of you would often gather late at night or early in the morning to discuss matters of the kingdom and make the difficult decisions.

Namjoon was the son of one of the best warriors the kingdom had ever seen and it had been a surprise when Namjoon hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, choosing books and ink over sword and armor. He had soon become known for his smarts and his eloquent speech—he was the one who went over the King's speeches, putting into words what Yoongi couldn't—and had been easily granted a place in the King's Council. His friendship with the King had a lot of people doubting the decision but soon he proved that he belonged there as much as anyone else. More really.

Unlike Namjoon, you and Yoongi hadn't been friends at any point in your life that you could remember. Maybe when you had been too young to read or write and you were hiding behind your mother's skirts, but not since then. Your father had been the late King's advisor and as his only child, you had been prepared to take his place since you could pick up a pen. He and your mother didn't have any other children and the fact that you were a girl didn't deter them, none of the past King's advisors had been female but your father was determined you would be the first one.

You had spent days and nights over books guided by your father and the best teachers in the kingdom, the same ones teaching the future king. You would see each other occasionally but didn't exchange more than a few words. During your teenage years, your fathers deemed it wise for the two of you to share a few of your lessons, you needed to build trust between you if you were to work together in the future. Instead of friendship, a rivalry brewed. You didn't remember how it started but you couldn't forget how it continued. Exchanging jabs about who was the best at which lessons and who did better at tests. Glaring and provoking each other.

When his father passed on and Yoongi ascended to the throne, it was his time to choose his personal advisor. You had been training for the position all of your life but you were still surprised when he asked you, bearing the gift of a gold bracelet engraved with flowers and embellished with precious stones. The King had to base his decisions on many factors but the most important was trust. Trust to work towards a bright future for the kingdom. Trust to support him through everything.

You didn't ask him why he chose you, you didn't voice any of your questions about trust. For years, you worked together and it was almost like nothing had changed from your teen days.

Half of the candles had gone out by the time you had gone over all of the papers. Your eyes hurt and a headache was brewing behind your temples. Your usual late nights ended earlier than this.

Namjoon gathered the papers with clumsy movements. Yoongi had to catch one before it flew away after Namjoon shoved it off the table.

"I think I may fall asleep if I stay any longer," Namjoon said when all the papers were safely in his arms. You could relate to that. "I would recommend going to sleep now. Have a good night."

You echoed his words and he left. The door closing was the only sound in the dimly lit council room.

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the King. His hair was coming undone and it glinted like threads of gold in the candlelight. His sharp eyes were softer, the way they got at night when his walls weren't as high as the castle's.

"I will be going then," you said, getting up and smoothing down your dress. There was no reason to do it, no one other than the guards would see you at this time. It was more out of force of habit than anything else.

"Wait for a moment," Yoongi said. You stopped before you could move to the door. "The Lee boy will be trained under Hoseok. He will be answering to him and if anything goes wrong I trust Hoseok to make it right. I wouldn't jeopardize the safety of the kingdom."

"It still doesn't sit right with me," you said. You knew that Yoongi had the best interests of the kingdom in mind but that didn't mean you always agreed. More often than not, you didn't. "But that's enough for tonight. It's late and frankly, I'm too exhausted to debate about the Lees. We can talk more about this tomorrow."

Yoongi opened his mouth and closed it again. "Don't forget a lamp. Unless you want to walk in the dark."

"Of course," you muttered, annoyed that Yoongi had to remind you. The torches in the hallways would have gone out a long time ago. "I would have remembered to take one."

"I don't doubt it," Yoongi said,  smirking. Ignoring him, you picked up an oil lamp from the top of a large chest and tilted it close to one of the lit candles to share the flame. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, my king."

You saw his eyebrows twitch before leaving the room. He wasn't fond of his friends using his title to address him. You wouldn't exactly put yourself in that category but you didn't use his title when it was the two of you, you didn't use it in the council either. You would throw it out there occasionally just to see his reaction.

The guards were standing at attention on either side of the door, their hands on their long swords. They stared ahead as you walked down the empty corridor.

A few days later, you strolled into the private training grounds. It was a wide space surrounded by trees, right next to the gardens accessible only to the royal family. You were one of the few exceptions.

The continuous sound of metal clashing on metal rang in the otherwise silent place. The swords glinted and glimmered, reflecting the light of the midday sun. Yoongi and Hoseok were sparring, their movements so quick they were but a blur.

Yoongi's hair was pulled up in a tight knot and sweat was running down his face and his sculpted chest. His shirt was thrown aside, too much of a nuisance after what looked like several hours of practice. You had to swallow to ease the dryness in your throat.

You watched them—transfixed by their deadly dance—until the King's eyes locked with yours.  Others would have cowered at the power in his gaze but you held it steadily like you had done all your life. One second of distraction and Hoseok's sword touched his pale neck, a whisper away from drawing blood.

"And I win," Hoseok said. He turned around, his eyes falling on you, and he smiled as if he understood a joke. "I see. I guess I owe this one to you."

You grinned and walked closer to them. "I'm not sure about that. I think you would have won either way."

"You should join us more often then," Hoseok said.

It was a view you both dreaded and craved to get used to. You didn't make a habit of visiting the training grounds, the King's private ones, or the much larger common ones. The art of battle wasn't one you had delved into. Your father had taught you the basics of protecting yourself but your interest had stopped there. And although watching shirtless men training, wielding swords and bows, and sweating was appealing in theory, you found that the reality wasn't as satisfying.

That's what you reminded yourself and the heat swirling in your stomach.

"How much longer will you be in our company?" you asked Hoseok.

The situation in the North wasn't getting better. Soldiers from the neighboring kingdom had been breaching the borders for months, engaging in small-scale conflicts with your forces stationed there. This was clear as day provocation but you didn't want to go into war.

Hoseok would go along with his team to survey the state of affairs and send a report back.

"The day after tomorrow," he said, sheathing his sword. "It isn't a short trip and it would be for the best to arrive as soon as it is possible." He looked at you and Yoongi, who had turned away. "I will be leaving then. Go easy on him. He's tired," he told you. Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. "I hope we have a chance to catch up before I leave."

"I can always find some time for you," you said.

Hoseok's smile widened before bidding you goodbye and walking away, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

Yoongi gulped down the contents of his leather waterskin, his Adam's apple bobbing, shiny with sweat. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed?"

"That is not what I said." He put away his sword in its jeweled case and left it on a stone bench. "If you are here that means you were looking for me for something."

You didn't deny it, although it wasn't the complete truth either. There were plenty of matters pending to be discussed and there were about ten things you weren't seeing eye-to-eye and you had to reach an agreement on. Nothing new. But the reason you were there was none of those things.

You had gone on a walk to clear your head after a morning of socializing with some of the most important people in the kingdom and your feet had carried you to the royal gardens before you realized where you were going. Finding Yoongi and Hoseok wasn't your intention. But you weren't about to say that.

Yoongi crossed his arms and looked at you, awaiting an answer. Your eyes strayed to his bare arms and chest and you scolded yourself and pulled them back up in what you hoped was a subtle manner.

"Are you going to stay like this?" you asked.

Yoongi gazed down at himself and what could have been a smirk played at the edges of his lips. "Why? Is it bothering you? Have you not seen a man's body before?"

"Are you a child?" He knew very well the answer to that question. Hell, it wasn't the first time you were seeing him half-naked. That was one of the perks—or cons, depending on your viewpoint—of your job. "For a king, you forget about decency an awful lot."

"When have you cared about decency?"

He picked up his white shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the bench and wiped the sweat off his face and neck with it. You had to look away.

"Where have you been all day? You weren't in your office and you didn't attend tea."

"Were you disappointed?"

"On the contrary," you said sharply. "I was only wondering if you were alive."

He extended his arms to the sides. "As you can see I am very much alive. Sorry to disappoint. I was here."

"All morning?" you asked, not convinced.

The royal gardens weren't a place Yoongi visited often. You were more likely to find Namjoon here observing nature with a book in one hand. Yoongi hadn't displayed any fondness for the place other than the privacy it could offer but his rooms could offer the same privacy and he preferred them.

"I'm the King, can I not take a morning to myself?"

"It's because you're the King that you can't," you shot back. "Did you sign those papers I gave you?"

"I did."

"Did you read them or did you sign them blindly?"

"I read them." Yoongi walked to you until your faces were inches apart. "I read every single one of them. I don't do things halfway. Is that all?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Do you perhaps want more work? I can arrange for something. There is always more work to be done."

Yoongi scoffed and backed away. "You're impossible."

"Thank you, I try," you said. Your mood sobered as you remembered what had been swirling in your head for the past week. "A letter arrived ahead of the envoy from Harfush, they will be here in three days."

Yoongi's demeanor changed, his shoulders tensing. "We will be ready when they arrive. We have prepared for everything."

"Almost everything," you pointed out. "They are set on this. I know it. They have been pushing for months now and it has only been getting worse. This isn’t going to end with a talk with an envoy. They’re hoping to get land from us in exchange for stopping their attacks but that is only prolonging the inevitable.”

His eyes hardened. “If it comes to it then so be it. We are not giving them anything. We will fight and they will regret bringing the war to us.”

“I will hold you to that.”

The envoy arrived and you were proven right. They were after your northern lands, a large stretch of the kingdom. Yoongi told them in the most political way to go fuck themselves, which—to no one’s surprise—the delegation wasn’t pleased with. They left two days later with thinly-veiled threats of war.

Your kingdom hadn't seen war since the days Yoongi's great-grandfather was king. Peace was a fragile thing but Yoongi's father and grandfather had protected it like the most precious jewel in the realm despite the aggressions of their neighbors. But it had never got that bad. Petty thievery here and there, a few arrogant nobles that dreamed of war. The carefully balanced scales had tragically tipped during Yoongi's reign.

The turning had found you prepared. Your soldiers were many and had trained tirelessly with the cloud of war hanging above them.  Your numbers were fewer than the enemy’s but you had something they didn't. Fire. Pyres burning in your souls, stronger than forest fires. That was the gift of the people of Tinigris, the nation of the Tiger.

And so it was only a matter of time.

“What are you still doing here?”

Yoongi was standing over the large map of the continent. On it, figures like chess pieces were carefully arranged, depicting the bigger picture of the stationed troops—your own and the enemy’s.

Yoongi looked up at you, the light casting deep shadows on his face. His hair was falling in his eyes and underneath, dark half-moons were inked in his porcelain skin. "What does it look like?"

"Like you are exhausting yourself going over matters we have already discussed to great lengths when you should be resting."

Yoongi's eyes flashed with something unreadable in the flame of the candles. "The drums of war are at our doorstep, minutes away from spreading like an infection in our land. It is not the time for resting."

"If you want to be dead on your feet tomorrow when we will actually discuss strategy and diplomacy then by all means, it is not the time for resting. If you want to be able to participate in the conversation, I would advise you to go to sleep now."

His hands twitched on the table. "I am not the only one awake, am I?"

The truth was that you had laid in your bed, closed your eyes but sleep refused to come to you. You had tried and failed. Your room was too dark and restricting and you were too restless. You had dressed in a simple black velvet dress with a low neckline, which some of the older nobles would consider scandalous, threw a silky shawl over your shoulders that did nothing to keep you warm, and wandered into the long shadowed hallways.

You couldn't tell him any of that so instead you said, "No, you are not the only one."

The majority of the little soldiers were placed along the borders. Hoseok had sent back a letter confirming what you already knew. There was a war brewing in the North and there was no stopping it. You couldn't run away from the storm, you could only walk into it prepared.

Yoongi's hair wasn't done up in its usual style but he must have carelessly pulled it up himself. Several strands were framing his face and he wasn't wearing his headband. In the quiet madness of the night, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"Why do you speak to me about sleep when you are as awake as I am?" he asked.

"Because at least one of us should sleep," you said. "It will be a long day tomorrow and days will only get longer from here."

His gaze went back to the pieces on the board. "I know that if I go to my chambers, I will find no more peace than you did." The shadows seemed to grow longer on his face. "We have avoided war for years. All of our attempts have been in vain. I'm sending my people into a bloodbath."

"If there was anything more we could do, you know very well we would have done it," you said. "Your people know you don't want this war. We can't stand here while they attack our lands. If we don't fight back, they will raid the villages close to the borders. It will only get worse. Kill, take slaves, do unspeakable things. Blood will be spilled either way. The North is thirsty for it. Better for our people to die defending their homes than be slaughtered with their families at night, unaware."

Yoongi's jaw clenched. In his eyes, you saw the fire and you saw the tiger. "I won't let them. I will fight for them until my last breath. If the North wants blood they will have it. It will overflow."

Yoongi glowed brighter than any flame in the room. Fierce and alluring in the way a sword is, tempting you to cut your finger on the blade to test how sharp it is.

"I won't offer empty words, to you I never have," you said. "It will be hard and we can't know how long it will last. There will be death and there will be wounds that won't heal. But we won't back down. We are the descendants of fighters, of warriors of great deeds. We prospered in peace and we will thrive in war. We will hold the borders, we will hold them back. And I believe we will emerge victorious."

Yoongi reached for something behind him and upon placing them on the table, you realized they were two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a generous amount into each and extended one to you.

"Let's drink to that," he said.

"To victories," you said and your glasses clinked.

Everything moved on faster from them, a river getting more and more narrow and running faster and faster. Strategies—political and military—, estimations, gathering the troops, reaching out to allies, making plans. You weren't a great warrior but you had studied battle strategies for years and you viewed battlefields as chess boards. You were great at chess.

Nobles, soldiers, townsfolk, and villagers alike were talking about the war in hushed whispers. Everyone knew it was approaching, a black galloping horse, neighing and squealing. Letters were being exchanged swiftly with the troops on the northern borders, keeping you informed about the moves of the enemy. When war was officially declared, you had to be ready.

Tensions rose in the palace as they did between the two kingdoms. You could barely sleep. When you closed your eyes, you saw images of a red sky, swinging swords, disembodied limbs, and unseeing eyes. You saw destroyed villages and burned houses. They haunted even your dreams. Most nights, you spent in the council room with Yoongi, both of you restless. Sometimes you discussed strategies, sometimes you were quiet in each other's company, other times you fought the way you often did. Upon returning to your rooms, you were able to steal a few hours of sleep.

Time was but an illusion to you. Days blended into each other yet you were intensely aware of each one passing. You drowned in meetings with the council, late nights with the King, and dealing with the noble families—an art you had once upon a time mastered but was slipping through your fingers.

Tensions were rising in the palace. Yoongi was on edge, running from meeting to meeting until he was bound to burn out. Your patience was running thin.

And the King, most of all, was testing it.

"You can't ride at the front in the battle," you said, repeating yourself for what felt like the thousandth time. You were in his office with Namjoon, debating his stupid ideas. "If you are killed, the war is over. Who will be left to lead the soldiers? You have no heir, no brothers or sisters, no one to continue the line."

"Who will lead them then?" Yoongi asked ferociously. "Who will they follow if not their king? Hoseok will be by my side. We will protect each other."

You gripped the glass of wine tighter. You wanted to get up and pace but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "This isn't training. This is a real war, protecting each other won't guarantee that either of you are safe. You will be the main target the moment you step into the battlefield. Do you expect the king of Harfush to charge first into battle? To fight at all?"

"I'm nothing like him!" Yoongi said sharply. "I will not hide behind my soldiers while they fight my kingdom's battles! I refuse to cower in the camp like a coward."

"I'm not asking you to," you said, trying to keep your voice from rising. "I'm asking you not to run first into the battle and become an easy target. Do you know how easy it will be for them to shoot you with arrows?"

"She is right, you know," Namjoon said. He was sitting on the other chair in front of Yoongi's large wooden desk, bent over a few papers. What he was writing, you had no idea. Yoongi narrowed his eyes in betrayal. "You want to lead the charge, I understand that, it's the honorable thing to do but they aren't honorable. If you are dead, our people won't know who to follow. There will be chaos and Harfush will take advantage of that."

Yoongi got to his feet, it sounded like an earthquake. "What would you have me do then? I will fight! You can't hold me back from fighting for my kingdom!"

Silent words passed between you and Namjoon. Neither of you liked the idea but it was true that you couldn't stop Yoongi from fighting. You would have to tie him up to keep him in the camp.

You sipped on the wine, an action that seemed to only agitate Yoongi further. "You will fight. But not in the front lines and you won't have only Hoseok with you but your personal guard as well. The ones who are willing to lose their lives to save yours."

"Is that it?" Yoongi asked, something animalistic in his expression. It was coming closer to the surface the past few weeks, clawing and snarling. "Are you making all the decisions for the war? Deciding what is best for MY people?"

Namjoon paused his writing. "We are not making any decisions for you. We only want you to see reason. We are here to advice and guide you, not force your hand."

You held back a huff. "Riding first into battle is suicide. And who will lead YOUR people then? When you are no longer here to do it."

"Why don't you lead them since you seem to believe you can do it so much better?" he snarled. His hand struck the desk with a loud thump, papers, candles and glasses clattering. Namjoon steadied the ink bottle before it could spill and paint the room blue. You held yourself back from flinching.

The world stood still for a moment like it was holding its breath. Yoongi's lips parted. Quickly he pulled back his hand and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said, gritting his teeth. "I let my temper get the best of me."

Your heartbeat was rising but you kept your voice steady. "I have no desire to lead, only to advise you. I can do nothing more. It isn't only your life on the line. It's the kingdom. Your life is more important than honor or your desire to prove you are a good king."

His jaw clenched. "I will think about it." A dismissal of the conversation. Namjoon went back to his papers and you rested back on the chair, your fingers drumming the tune of war on the arms.

The days grew smaller and the nights longer. Your blood was either freezing or burning. The songs in the court were lifeless, a front no one was believing anymore. Fewer people were good enough pretenders to sing and dance. Wine tasted dull on your tongue. Underneath everything, you were scheming.

War. It had turned from a whisper into a chant. It was the cold breath on your neck in the middle of the night, chilling you to the bone. But you were ready for it. As ready as someone could be for the cruelty humanity had created.

It didn't start with fire or a war cry. It started with a letter. A declaration of war sealed with the royal seal of Harfush.

The night before the King's departure, you and Yoongi met in the council room.

"You are not coming to the front," Yoongi said, thunder flashing in his face. "You are to stay here and rule in my stead. There is no place for you on the battlefield."

You stood your ground, you were used to Yoongi's dangerous looks that would have made anyone else cower. The candles burned around the council room like pyres in the night.

"I am no ruler," you said. "I am the King's advisor and I should be where the king is. Be it the Castle or the battlefield. I will go where you go."

Yoongi clenched his fists. "You are not coming to the front and that's the end. I need you here to take care of the kingdom while I'm gone."

"Namjoon is more than capable of taking care of the kingdom, the council listens to him more than they listen to me." Many in the council believed you were too young and too inexperienced to be the King's advisor. No one would say it in front of Yoongi but amongst themselves they whispered that he had chosen wrong. "You need me there," you continued. "I have studied battles all my life, I am one of the best war strategies you have. It would be foolish not to take advantage of that."

"I have studied battles all my life too and I will have my generals with me. Your place is here in the castle and that is where you will stay."

Anger licked your insides with tongues of fire. "Are you ordering me?" When he stayed silent, you went on. "Do you seriously believe they need me more here than on the front where our fate will be decided? You have always been the better fighter, I was never good at that, but when it comes to strategy, I was better and you know it. Let me be there for you, let me do what I'm meant to do. What is a King's Advisor without a king?"

"Don't." The power was gone from his voice, his head bent. "Stay here. The kingdom needs you."

"The kingdom needs to win and they need you. And I shall be by your side,” you said, not leaving him any chance to contradict you. “I won’t go into the battle, obviously. I will stay at the camp which will be protected and if they reach the camp, that means the war is over. It wouldn’t make a difference if I were there or in the castle. I would be doomed either way.”

“If we lose,” he said through gritted teeth as if it pained him to think about it. “You can escape the castle, go to another country, take Namjoon with you and start anew.”

You were fuming. “Would you run away if you had the chance? Would you escape if you were in my place? Take the coward’s way out?” He looked away. “I am not going anywhere.” Concealed in a pocket of your dress, you pulled out a blade as long as your hand and threw it on the table. “I would rather slit my neck with this blade than run away. I either do this here or at the camp. You choose.”

Yoongi stared at the blade. He was as tense as a tightrope. Watching him was like watching a forest fire. Until something crumbled or it could have been the tremble of the flames surrounding you. He drew back, pulling his eyes away.

“Don’t do it,” he muttered at last. “Stay here.”

“I can’t.”

“Do as you please then.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

[strrykais]

✩࿐࿔ behind the scenes

c-rank pokémon trainers

⋆ park yn ; nobody put in the work like park yn, only going to an audition because her friend dragged her to audition with her. though only getting supporting roles yn never cared as long as she had the funds to help her grandmother. her goal is to win baeksang before her loving grandma passes.

⋆ park yn ; her private where she mostly shits on lee minho and other people, if this got out… its game over.

⋆ lee chaeryeong ; younger sister of changbin (by marriage) .. though she doesn’t like to admit it, fearing that people will call her a nepo baby, chaeryeong works hard to climb the ladder by herself !

⋆ hwang yeji ; nepo baby through and through!! she does not care that people call her one because she knows all her work is her own! as an open lesbian people pray on her downfall, but she thrives off that!

⋆ kim seungmin ; hwang hyunjin ; lee felix ; an award winning group, this trio have been together for 4 years and have a crazy fanbase and a tremendous amount of talent to back it up.

⋆ this group of celebrities met at an award show, where they all went to a hotspot to try to catch a pokemon they all happened to want. playing rock paper scissors for it, felix ending up winning and they all exchanged numbers so they can battle each other. now they are great friends out of the pokemon go world.

previous | masterlist | next

authors note: background lwk isnt that important but its there! sorta ish

taglist : @fackeraccount @seungzsmin @tricky-ritz @puppyminnnie @gnabnahcbby @goldenmellow @grassbutneo @cait-with-luv @bookswillfindyouaway @galbiirocher @mystverse @estella-novella @to-toad @ssunglver @ldh0000

reblogs, likes and replies are appreciated! feel free to send constructive feedback/thoughts in my asks!

[mqnill]

I'm gonna rank all the enemies of Ultrakill cuz I'm bored.

Btw I am a noob and played only on harmless

Filth - 10/10

Nice goobers, basically walking french fries. I can never get mad at them, because how could I be mad at my best healers in this game? They are really cute and are pretty nice. I give them big hug after they take a bite of me! :3 (One punch them for fuel because damn that mouth might've as well ate me as a whole)

Stray -8/10

A bit annoying, considering they get to stand and shoot fireballs at me and move their asses from time to time. Luckily, they're too slow and suck at aiming unless I stand in one place. Great fuel and quite noticeable throughout the game (Until 7 layer, these babies are so similar looking to these fuck ass mannequins)

Schism - 6/10

Strays but upgrade I guess. Too much attitude backed up with unnecessary annyoing ability to live after charged blue shot. Hard to swallow pill. Although they have a noticeable for some reason butt. Idk why but okay?

Soldier - 5/10

That fucking bird that I hate. Would be a nice food, if it wouldn't kick me across the country. Ew.

Stalker - 7/10

Literally don't care about this.

Sisyphean Inssurectionist - 8/10

A tad bit irritating creature, always pushing me on the hot burning sand but it is fun to jump around. Reminded me of an old game on my playground where you stand on edges of sandbox and in the middle of it there is a "Shark" (kid that lost in rock, paper, scissors). This creature is a shark and well, no wonder it lost. I would too if I would only pick rock! Lol loser

Ferryman - 7/10

He was lightning, before the thunder. Confusing bone martial art master that goes up on some building, trying to strike me down with lightning. The dissaperance trick was fun, until I jumped out in the water, thinking he was hiding from me there. I died. Not cool killing me like that, dude. Be fair. Play nice.

Malicious Face - 8/10

Again, this flying fuck pisses me off, but it's a great healing thingy that needs only 100 nails (usually) to fall dead. Although, it is a shame it has to spit in me with fire. Nasty. I'm not into that kind of thing.

Cerberus - 5/10

I'm pretty sure Cerberus is a dog with three heads from Greek myhtology, so no idea why this overgrown football player has that name. This NFL fanatic throws his stupid ball at me and takis his big boy steps to get me, but I'm faster, this is when he stomps angrily instead of communicating his issues with me. Smartest man-looking creature that enjoys any games with ball. Fun to disrespect, not fun when he throws me away like he'd throw a deodorant if someone would offer him that.

Hideous Mass - 8/10

Perhaps hideous, but gives great piggy rides. Nice lobster, but I don't like seafood. Nothing more.

Idol - 5/10

Doesn't even hurt me, but god did you really have to put my food in zipper plastic bags so I couldn't eat them? (Puts some protection spell on other enemies, most often Virtue) Low blow.

Mannequin - 0/10

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!! FUCK AHHGHGHHGHGGH I HOPE YOU AND ALL YOUR SPECIES DIE OUT LIKE A PATHETIC COCKROACH IMMITATORS YOU ARE!!!!! Scary, creepy, hard, fast? That is supposed to me. I am the war machine that sends horror in souls and their non-existent hearts. You fucking fucks, stayed out till 7th layer to make my life difficult. I better not see your asses anymore!!!! You all will be executed on the spot. I hope you know that you are an unwanted creatures, a poor imitation of anything and you deserve nothing but to rot behind closed doors, posed in worst yoga posses you can imagine. DIE!!!!

Swordsmachine - 10/10

It may be hard to beat, but idc. I love it. So pretty, so beautiful, so fashionate. Oh wow. I missedyou, sweetheart, missed this robot from the 1st layer, been thinking about their glorious attacks and cute rushing to hit me with their arm. Had to pause a game because they were just so... so... mwah.

Drone - 7/10

One eyed poor Shockwave parody. Go boom and kill all your brothers around you, loser. Doesn't even heal and explodes.

Streetcleaner - 9/10

Just one point away because they set me on fire and that's not really nice. But overall great bots, really sweet and they sound soooo cuteee. WAHHHHHH I WANNA KISS AND HUG THEM SO BAD!!! They deserve a big hug you people!!! (Swordsmachine got some competition)

Mindflayer - 7,5/10

Pesky cyan plastic-metal woman. Okay, you teleport, okay, you shoot blue faces that haunt me until they hit the wall (why would you inspirate mannequins like that), we got it. But dying with exploding yourself after I hit you twice with taser? A bit dramatic. Somehow slay, and somehow go fuck yourself, no need to be such a hard target, just stay still, will you?

Sentry - 5/10

I don't like them, but I don't hate them.

Gutterman - 2/10

Fat ass metal discord mod harassing my innocent poor soul. Kicks me across the galaxy, doesn't heal, have a stupid shield (okay cap america enjoyer) but it won't protect you from me. I will still fry these assholes with my taser. Womp womp, die faster.

Guttertank 0/10

Annoying stupid fucking huge discord mod's brother that got mad. CRY ME A RIVER (full of blood so I could use it as a fuel) AND DIE!!!

Virtue - 9/10

Nice healing thingy that explodes, thanks man, but stop trying to destroy me with holy light. It's not difficult to dodge, I'm just lazy and would prefer if I didn't have to do much with beating common enemies.

V2 - 10/10

I love this guy. So silly. So goofy. Hard to fight because that's a literal copycat of me, but hey!!! They're fun and that is all that matters (get coin in the face goofball). Got me a good arm to deal with Discord mods and another good arm to swing around like Spiderman.. But I miss the guy, they died because of me and it's so sad that I won't see them again 💔

The Corpse of King Minos - 10/10

Dapped up this guy so hard he died and healed my scoliosis. Hope he heals his brainworms wizards with fireballs that popped out of his eyes. I don't want that much eye contact buddy.

Gabriel - 10/10

Aside of his obvious attractiveness, a really fun guy!! I beat his ass, he got fired by upper angels and was supposed to die in 24hr unless he kills me (deadline is for real DEADline here), we fight again, I win, he has a moment of realisation, goes and kills his epmloyers, all upper angels, that stupid Council and then shows the beheaded to the public. Awesome. THE GOAT (greatest of them all) fr fr. We love you Gabriel

Leviathan - 5/10

I don't like sea food, I don't like baby faces. But fight wasn't that hard.

Minotaur - 3/10

Why the hell is he chasing me on my train?! Go touch some grass or smth idk

1000-THR Defense System - 7/10

Fun, easy, but confusing. Yet not exciting.

1000-THR Earthmover - 1/10

It was sickening and depressing to fight this Evangelion boss. So many parkour, stupid pests, scary heights I had to go through, no, jump through. But the last cry of this metal creature? Healed me better than anything.

Flesh Prison ?-10

has goofy ahh loking mouth (im not feeding you) no pic doesnt deserve it

Minos Prime - 3/10

Not gonna fight this guy cuz I no no wanna. Besides, this isn't transformers, you are not a prime, you look like a long lost father of The Spot from spiderverse, unserious and unneeded use of "thy" (ok medieval grandpa), bet you are no fun.

Flesh Panopticon - 0/10

what are you. why are you.

SIsyphus Prime - 4/10

Agai, this is not transphormers, but he has a fun voiceline so I'll allow his existence I guess

[almostloosingit]

Tokyo Revenges Drabbles

Rindou

GN reader

Fluff

I don’t know where the idea of this man being a bad boyfriend came from but hey… he ranked 2nd on the “best boyfriend ranking” for a reason.

I get it he breaks peoples bones like it’s a stick and poses like an old fighting game character, BUT you can NOT tell me this man wouldn’t be the softest with his partner. I mean LOOK AT HIM! Ran is better at playing being tough and shit with his partner, but Rindou? The second you say something flirty or slightly suggestive this man is turning into a tomato. No way you would say something like that in public, right? He must be hearing things.

I mentioned before and it is literally the truth when it comes to Rin looking up to and respecting his older brother so if you’re mean and being to Ran for no reason… you are gone. If for example you got into a fight with Ran or he was being an asshole and you were just protecting yourself/baiting back, that’s fine, but being a pure bitch to him for no reason? Nope, he’s not having it. That’s why he was really happy when you and his older brother were getting along really well. (Ran would not have it either but this ain’t about him.)

I feel like the brothers do skin care routines, nothing overboard but they have some good stuff. I feel like Rindou would be embarrassed to tell you about it. He’s afraid that if you find out, you will see him as “less manly” or some dumb shit. When he told Ran, he gave his younger brother an eyebrow raise then burst out with laughter.

Either to say next time they were doing a skin care routine Ran took a mirror selfie with Rindou and sent it to you.

Ran was holding the phone with one hand and doing a peace sign with the other. He had a frog hair band while his face mask was light blue. Next to him was your cute ass boyfriend, his face was still close to the mirror as he was still applying the clay face mask that was also light blue. His hair band was just the back metal one. He looked so cute. But it didn’t go in noticed by you that there was a light blue hair band laying on the side. You asked Ran about it and he said that Rindou didn’t put it on today cuz he would look way too blue since his hair as well. You asked Ran to send you another picture when Rindou is wearing it. Guess what picture of Rindou you got the next day?

You were hanging out with your boyfriend. You were making him a drink when you heard your phone make a noise. (You and Rindou did a rock-paper-scissors and who lost had to change their notions sound because each time there was a notification both of you chased your phones p.s he won)

“Could you check who texted me babe?” You shouted from the kitchen. You don’t understand how happy it makes him that you trust him that much. It’s a low standard but still.

“Of course!” He said while picking up your phone. He was about to tell you when he saw your lock screen .

It was him making a peace sign while sitting relaxed on his couch with his blue hair band and a sheet hello kitty (cinnamon roll) face mask. To say the least my guy was shocked.

He came into the kitchen holding your phone with the screen facing you.

“When? How?” He asked, embarrassed. Shit you forgot to change your lock screen.

“Ran send it to me. He said that you were embarrassed to tell me that you have a skin care routine, so he started to send me pictures of you while you guys do your skin care.” You said, while walking in his direction, passing him his drink then taking your phone. “No need to be embarrassed, love. You are the most adorable manly man out there.” You said before placing a kiss on his cheek. “We should do some face masks together, you know? It would be a cute movie night date.”

He’s glad you get along with his older brother, after all if you didn’t, you and Rindou wouldn’t have plans for tomorrow night.

A special addition from @syunsww1 (one of my lovely beta readers.)

“I feel like he would hold the phone to your ear when you're on a phone call as you are painting his or your nails.”

He would also hold your phone as your painting your toenails. You know it’s a team effort. HES TRYING HIS BEST TO HELP. He also wants to hear the drama from your bestie.

I used spin wheel to determined who won the rock-paper- scissors.

@69doing

[fauxnotice]

ALIEN SKINCARE. v! blue lock/male! reader. originally posted on quotev. masterlist.

CHAPTER IV. JUST KICK THE DAMN BALL, PERCHANCE.

Just as you’re about to wonder if you’re ever going to actually play football in this place, since it’s been around three days of doing nothing but various physical tests, Ego is helpful enough to announce that the results of those have been finalized. Thus, your rankings have changed as well. By your reasoning, if each team got one member kicked off during the first test, that would mean that you should bump up by quite a few rankings.

Your hypothesis is proven correct, as the number on your shirt rises by twenty five places. 

His goal point system is interesting as well. You decide to set getting a proper bed as your first objective, as those shitty futons are disastrous for your back. And an unhealthy back means an underwhelming football performance, and you can’t have that. That, additionally to this peculiar uneasiness that’s been plaguing you ever since you arrived, was bound to only bring you down.

But that was a worry for later.

You had already assumed that Blue Lock was going to be an intense environment, and Ego proved you right. The rules of the so-called First Selection were rather cutthroat, intending to further aid in sowing the seeds of desperation within participants as it went on. Truly an eat-or-be-eaten situation. 

You can’t say that you’re against it. 

Then, the weird man proceeds to drop the biggest bomb of all -it being that your first match as Team V would be held in less than two hours. 

The screen returns into its initial pitch black state, and the entire room is thrown into disarray.

Well. A good part of the room. Some of you are much less affected by the sudden revelation than the rest. For your part, you’re sitting down on your futon, attempting (and failing) to find the most comfortable position. You really need that deluxe bed, huh.

Detachedly, your sight lands upon the “analyst”. Of course, he doesn’t seem worried at all, though from what you’ve seen, Karasu isn’t the type to show it visibly, even if he was perturbed by something. You can easily tell that he’s thinking of something, grinding of gears almost audible in the realm of reality. How cool, you think humorously, it’s our “weakest” that’s trying to be rational about this.

The majority of your team is pacing around restlessly by now, complaining in vain about not knowing how to build a team of all forwards. Someone even suggests playing rock-paper-scissors to decide who will be playing each position, which sounds like such a deliberate attempt at reducing your chances of winning it almost makes you laugh out loud. 

Sone, the guy signed into your memory due to his less-than-impressive performance during the initial exam, looks incredibly tense. Like, tense enough that you think if you poked him on the shoulder right now, he’d have a heart attack and die. His polar opposite is found in Otoya, who is lying on his back, entirely unbothered as he twists his signature green strand of hair between his fingers. His nonchalance is truly extraordinary.

At some point, somebody walks up to you and asks for your opinion as the “strongest” (as if some stupid number actually meant anything). In all honesty, you didn’t spare a single thought on how to proceed, as you had spent the past few minutes lamenting your shitty living conditions, so you’re kinda stuck on what to say. Not for long however, as you are nothing if not an improviser, and also a person who uses others to save your own skin when the time calls for it. Thus, the most logical decision is to throw someone under the bus. And there is only one candidate for it. 

“I think Karasu-kun already has an idea.” You smile. “So let’s hear what he has to say first.” 

All inhabitants of Room V collectively turn to look at the mentioned boy. He sends you a look that’s too quick for you to interpret. Even you find yourself rather curious, especially with how relaxed Karasu seemed to be, almost as if he already had the entire game in the bag.

“Puttin’ the spotlight on me like that … are ya tryin’ to embarrass me?” Karasu smirks, clearly not even close to being embarrassed. You simply continue smiling. 

“No, not at all. I’m just saying that I think you’re the best person for the job.”

“And what made ya think that? Not that I mind the compliment.”

Unwilling to unravel the methods of your reasoning, you only shrug lightly. “I’m simply a very intuitive person.”

“Should ya really be relyin’ on intuition right now? Who knows, maybe I’m the biggest buffoon in the room.”

Your smile widens. “Then I’ll put my trust in the buffoon.” 

Karasu actually does laugh at this. The others, however, are far from laughing, and are feeling like this supposed strategy meeting is getting derailed into a session of bickering between you two. Which is happening at the most inopportune time possible. And yet, no one seems to want to speak up, as if what you and Karasu are discussing is of some great importance. Even Otoya stood up to observe the event.

Karasu’s eyes meet your form with an intensity that would unsettle most people. But you-you’ve felt worse. After seemingly debating something with himself, he finally speaks up again. “Well, let’s see if yer intuition is worth anythin’, or if yer a naive dumbass.” And he ends it at that. 

There’s a miniscule twitch in your brow. But whatever. If the scales don’t tip in your favor, you’ll force them to. “The stage is yours, Karasu-kun.”

Karasu makes a sarcastic bowing motion. “Many thanks, Mr. Angel.”

This bullshit again? You swear, that weirdo has done irreparable damage to your image. You can only hope that your stupid nickname won’t spread amongst people, because you don’t know how much cheesiness your psyche can take before you do something unpresentable. 

But you’ll brush that off for now, as it seems like Karasu is about to finally say something worthwhile. 

“The other team’s probably jus’ as unprepared as we are.” He begins, even and collected in his delivery of what could possibly make or break your future career. “Which means they’ll have buncha holes in their plays-if we poke at those weaknesses enough, they’ll topple right over.”

Everyone seems to find this reasonable enough. You do think it’s a sound start to a strategy. 

“But that’s not enough, right?” You ask, tone as serene as always, but you’re guessing that Karasu can notice the almost challenging suggestion behind it. “We can’t just bet on our opponent’s incompetency to win.”

Karasu snorts in turn. “Duh, obviously. I was gettin’ to that.” And he’s grinning. What a cheeky bastard. “Even if they manage to make a workin’ team, there’s always those who’re laggin’ behind. The mediocre ones.” 

The way he accentuates mediocre is no different than the rest of his sentence, but you feel a particular importance put into it. Mediocrity … Those who continue to be plagued by it won’t make it far into Blue Lock. 

You’re already forming some kind of picture of who Karasu is as a player. Once more, you feel anticipation blossom within your chest like a late flower, although you squash it before it takes full form. Such clear-cut strategic playing … is it truly what you’re looking for? 

“Uh … that’s nice and all,” some brunette with an unfortunate haircut cuts in. “But how are we supposed to decide who’ll play which position? We’re all forwards!” 

As patient as you strive to be, it doesn’t stop you from thinking that some people need to use their ears (and brains) more than their mouths. Could he not wait, for like, a minute at best? Karasu obviously got the planning covered, and he wasn’t stupid enough to skip over the critical part of the entire process. But whatever, it is what it is. You make no move to acknowledge his rather useless addition to the conversation. 

Karasu graces the questionably-intelligent specimen with a proper response, at least. “Since most don’t have experince when it comes to playin’ different positions, each one of us should think of somethin’ they’re good at that they can use in the match.”

“So something that’s our “weapon”?” Otoya pipes in. You’re surprised that he was even listening at all.

Karasu nods. “Sure, let’s call it that. Everyone, think of yer weapon.”

Wow, what assertiveness. Seems like he fell into the leadership role with no problem. It appears that the rest of your teammates had the same thought, since they all turned to think about their new “assignment”.

That includes you too, as you’re, shamefully enough, stuck with the dilemma of what exactly you excel at enough for you to share. The abrupt feeling of … you’re not sure what, as it twists your insides with something akin to shame, uncertainity, dissatisfaction, irritation, and a plethora of other unpleasant things. But you manage to supress it all, or rather tuck away for later. Personal feelings of weakness mean jack shit on the field. If you bring them in, be ready to leave with nothing but a scorching loss on your hands. 

Of course you have useful skills. You’re you.

So you manage to land on something you’d describe as a weapon. 

When it’s your turn to share, you put on your best face as you speak. “Other than my flexibility and balance, I’d say my playmaking is pretty good.”

Karasu then proceeds to stare at you in silence for a good minute, enough to make you feel awkward and oddly violated as he keeps trying to pry into your very being with only his gaze. You show no signs of discomfort, of course, although you raise your eyebrow in question as he continues to attempt to psychoanalyse you or whatever he is doing. You truly had no clue. What a guy.

“And yer shooting, striker?”

Well, his rather interrogative question strikes you as quite odd, since he seemed to accept everyone’s answers without any fanfare except for yours. Is he trying to provoke you? You bet he is. He’s trying to throw you off balance, like a lowlaying hunter waiting for its prey to misstep. What an underhanded method! No wonder his entire philosophy hinged on attacking the weakest. A viable, rational way to go about things, yet it still doesn’t sit right with you. 

You don’t know why, however. 

Your lack of reasoning greatly bothers you. 

“What about my shooting?” You seep out sweetly. Maybe you overdo it, because it sounds forced even to your ears. You belatedly notice the team that observes you two with keen interest. 

“Nothin’.” Karasu fires back just as coolly. “Ya just seem like the typa guy that’s real’ proud of his strikin’ ability.” 

Okay, now you’re beginning to get annoyed. This is exactly why you can’t last long around people like Karasu; so self-assured in their capability to tear others apart, ignoring all that is wrapped around one’s core as if it meant nothing. Was he suspecting that you were hiding something? Was he theorizing that you were the star actor of some arbitrary play, with him being the only member of the audience to be aware that what’s presented in front of them is not reality, but a farce? As if. 

With the best of your ability, you mold your expression into something that could be described as sheepish. You even throw in a nervous laugh, as a bonus. “Is that really the impression I give off? To be honest, I don’t think I’m good enough to be boasting around.” 

With the way something in Karasu’s eyes changes, you’d think he had hit a jackpot. And he probably did, you think, in his own roundabout way. 

“We’ll see if yer good or not once the match starts.” He says, as if it’s that easy.

The ending of your little exchange feels like a bitter loss on your part. Even if you choose every step of your act carefully, it’s greatly aggravating how easily Karasu seems to be able to come in and push against you. Truly a bothersome crow. You’d throw rocks at it.

Of course, he is also in charge of everyone’s positions. So it does come as a bit of a shock when Otoya of all people gets chosen as the center forward. Was your assumption about there being some type of animosity between them wrong? Or were they simply mature enough to put that aside on the field? 

Whatever it is, it’s fine by you.

You make your way to the pitch with the resignation of a man joining the losing side of a war. 

It’s the same as always, which saddens you in some way. You wish you could feel the jitters of excitement, or even nervousness, yet your heart is as steady as ever. Even recalling the rules of Blue Lock does little stir you up; perhaps getting eliminated is fine, if you manage to find what sort of football makes you feel like a living being, and not a paper doll given consciousness. 

Your opponents stride towards you with as much confidence as they can muster up. When you look them all over, yet no one seems to stand out. Still, you hope for an outlier to appear, someone who could make you feel weak in the knees after the game. 

(Alas, there is no cold-hearted forward with long eyelashes to steal your breath out of your lungs this time.)

Team Y moves in a rather standard way, with a few of their members sharing passes as they begin their attack. Surprisingly, they seem to be rather coherent as a team, or at least coordinated enough to not trip over themselves for possession of the ball. As per Karasu’s plan that he so gracefully shared with the rest of you, Team V falls back into defense. 

You do a quick scan of those on the field. Everyone is at their positions, moving as smoothly as possible. Karasu, of course, is doing the same as he inspects the movement of each player with great intensity. You can see Otoya slowly speeding up. 

The pieces for the plan that Karasu suggested earlier are falling into place. It’s showtime, you guess.

Otoya, who let you know that he is supposedly a descendant of a long line of ninjas of all things, actually lives up to it, much to your amusement. He easily weaves between the rivaling players as he makes his way towards the one with the ball, who is unfortunately still unaware of the threat that is approaching.

And just like that, the advantage falls into the hands of Team V.

Glancing off to the side, you become aware that your scheming companion seems to be donning a rather smug expression. Or rather, it’s even more smug than usual. You wonder what exactly he has in store that gives him the right to be so confident.

Somewhere along the line, the ball hits the goal in favor of Team V, marking the first official goal of your Blue Lock experience. Too bad it’s not yours. Not like you’d want to claim ownership of such an average shot, of course. You’d say it’s a solid five-point-five out of ten.

Karasu says something about … installation? You aren’t really following, but you assume he’s had some form of significant revelation of sorts, but you aren’t quite sure. 

When the game resumes, a detail strikes you as noticeable. 

Team Y has no players with exceptional speed. 

No wonder Otoya’s attack easily tore them apart.

Karasu throws a grin your way and has the nerve to speak. “Just figured it out, Mr. Angel? Ain’t that a lil’ too slow?”

Oh, aren’t you getting sick of his smart ass. Letting his vocal chords rest once in a while could do him some good. As another benefit, you’d enjoy that a lot as well! “Keep your head in the game, Karasu-kun.”

He snorts, just like that. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. 

The boy who has the ball has a fairly sturdy build, but you can’t help but notice the barely visible, yet present, wobbliness of his feet. 

Huh. Neat.

You move to pressure him. You truly had no intention of taking the ball, honest -but it simply seems to stick to your feet! The big guy fumbles as you hook your foot between his own and with an elegant movement bring the ball towards your form.

Too bad you have to part with it early, as two other guys move to swarm you. In the corner of your eye, you spot Karasu, loitering around like a permanent thorn in your side. 

Your heart still beats steady in your ribcage. 

Getting the ball to Karasu would be so painfully easy. 

You click your tongue in distaste. You reel your leg back and send a polished low pass his way. With it, goes the unspoken prayer: Excite me. Make my presence worth it. 

Karasu pushes onwards, until some brunette from Team Y interrupts him. Now, a curious part happens; he stops, and starts rolling the ball across the grass, letting it get away from him, gaze thrown to the side. 

No way, goes through your head as you watch the other’s bewilderment. You fight back a smile. What cruelty.

As the poor victim of this charade foolishly moves to steal the ball, Karasu reels it back in, forcing himself into his opponent's personal space. He easily marches towards the goal, followed by a flock of stupefied players. 

Now, you think he’s engaging in some type of trash talk, if the angered visage of the bamboozled brunette is anything to go by. You don’t even hear what he’s saying, so you fill in the blanks easily, using your foreknowledge of Karasu’s irritation tactics.

Looking at him more closely, you guess his surname’s kind of fitting. If anything, his crazy long limbs make him seem like some sort of bird, as he pushes against various bodies with no issue. A nasty, nasty crow, that’s for sure.

Boom. It’s two goals for Team V.

In terms of scoring prowess, you’re falling behind. But no matter how much you force yourself to react to the fact, you remain unmoved. This showdown feels more like a one-sided beatdown, and swatting flies really doesn’t seem all that fun. 

Although there are interesting things happening. Like Otoya and Karasu hooking up. In football terms of course, even if with how they suddenly started smoothly playing in tandem you’d think there is some previous connection between them. Which there isn’t, you know, as they seemed to be quite opposed to the idea of the other literally days ago? Did you miss something? 

Was this the work of pure and practical interpersonal understanding between partners? You have no idea. Unfortunately, in contrast to their ascension, you got a demotion. Which does piss you off, honestly. Once someone who carried your entire team, you’ve now become a bystander feeding the two passes so they can score. And to be frank, you wouldn’t even mind if your pass led to an amazing play, but these goals weren’t even close! In fact, they were in no way similar to the perfect play of your dreams! 

But even the frustration that is felt deep within every fiber that makes up your vessel, you can’t bring yourself to attempt to change that.

What a useless thing, you!

Team Y experiences a humiliating defeat of 6-0. 

You feel like you’re going to throw up, or something. There sure is a heaviness in your gut. Usually, you’d work off your intense emotions by training, running, doing whatever else, but you’re already sticky and quite unwilling to further push yourself physically, so you make a straight route to one of Team V’s training rooms without even looking back at your teammates, since your usual, although well hidden, distaste for people got increased by at least a hundred percent. 

You don’t even care if you feel Karasu’s eyes on your back. Not like it’s anything new for the A-class creep. Kinda insane how he called Otoya that on the first day, yet he’s the one acting in ways that you think are generally frowned upon in society. But what would you know? 

You unceremoniously drop yourself against the wall once you reach your destination. You didn’t even turn the lights on. Which is annoying, but you don’t want to get up, so you sit there in the dark like a pathetic piece of shit.

You think for what you deem to be a long time. You initially think about the game, obviously, but that makes you feel worse, so you try to think about something else. It doesn’t work.

You love football, don’t you? And the answer is always, no matter when or where, instantaneously going to be a yes, certain like nothing else in your life is. And love makes you happy, so happy that you want to die, doesn’t it? That’s what it is. A feeling so intense that nothing else compares. 

So why aren't you feeling happy? You finally had a chance to compete against other supposedly skilled people, yet you were left feeling hollowed out, uncomfortable in the prison of your own skin. 

Amidst all your turbulent thoughts, the unwanted reminder of … Itoshi, of all people, rattles you enough to snap you out of your miserable episode. Why would you think of a guy you met once now, of all times? You don’t even know his first name, yet his afterimage clings onto you like a memory of a dead wife would onto a husband. 

Yet … is he not the one that forced you into the world of the living, all those weeks ago? The way he played was so out of the ordinary that it had awakened something within you, as well. But now, even if you try to recall any notable moments from that game, you’re only met with the recollections of joy, from being forced to submerge yourself into the flow of the game, and hatred, that he had dared disturb your everyday mundanity so rashly, without any consideration. It had left you feeling so weak, that Bachira had to carry you almost the entirety of the way home, and yet it was no product of exhaustion.

Itoshi. You hate him. You need to play against him again.

He must have come to Blue Lock. There is no way he hasn’t, right? If Ego didn’t invite him, that would be an astronomical waste. 

It’s fine. It’s only the beginning. You’ll play your type of football, you’re sure of it.

You just have to wait.

(You fail to notice that your teeth had pierced your lip, leaving crimson droplets to weave paths down your chin.)

A clear shot into the goal marks the ending of the match, and declares the opposing team the undeniable losers. 

Itoshi Rin doesn’t even spare a glance to the result as he marches away from the field, ignoring his bothersome teammates all the same. It’s the same as always; a bunch of NPCs who attempt to challenge him get crushed. If this is all Blue Lock has to offer to him, then it’s a waste of both Rin’s time and their money.

The memory of his brother emerges. Of course it does; it’ll remain with him until Rin proves the worth of himself and his dream. It’s the almost exact same picture as that day, where Sae -so different from how he used to be, with his gaze, resentful and dark, that had never been aimed at Rin before then -tore at his very being as if their brotherhood and shared promises meant nothing.

And then, the memory shifts, like it has never done before.

Sae’s visage gives way to a smile, dangerously cruel in its delivery, leading the owner’s lips into a wobbly line. You, of all people, some lukewarm nobody, come back to haunt Rin as you dance around him as if it required no effort on your part, all with that dull spark in your eyes, as if he was truly someone undeserving of standing before you, much less his brother. Not only was your goal the first offense; it was not enough for you, as you had continued running against his side, like a shadow, as if to ridicule him as you matched his every move with the precision he had only seen in one other person. 

He barely remembers your name. It’s not important. 

Next time, I’ll crush you. Rin had promised. But of course, you had smiled, as if gazing upon a petulant kid who had no idea about anything. You, you, you. So elegant in your performance of maliciousness. 

Like by some premonition, he knows you’ll be in Blue Lock.

And when the time comes, he will stand against you again and make sure your mocking grin makes way to awe, as he destroys you, completely and thoroughly, before he finally reaches his goal. He’ll make sure you understand where you stand -as an insect on his path. 

(He doesn’t take note of how tightly he’s been clenching his fist, allowing a ghastly white color to drench his skin.)

[acryfordarkness]

girls night games

Jeux sans frontières

Beta suggestions

From @ritemate

my suggestion, Miss: A tug-of-war, where two boys each has the end of a rope tied to his beta genitals, and must strive to move forward, by dragging his opponent backwards, to reach the feet of a girl and kiss them. The other girls can use riding crops to encourage them. The loser must give the winner a blow job.

From @pa2girlboss

Beta Decathlon - a series of challenges where each beta is awarded points for top performance. Beta with highest point total at the end wins. Hand laundry - Pour 4oz of coffee or red wine on a pair of panties for beta to hand wash. Winners will be judged on time and cleanliness. 

Groveling - beta will pose in front of the judges on hands and knees and explain why he should be awarded “Top Groveler”. Top marks to most convincing supplicant. 

Crumb cleaning - hide 10 or 20 small items (beads would be perfect) around the room. Allow first beta to enter and time him on finding all the hidden “crumbs”. Send him away, re-hide the crumbs in the same locations and repeat with the next beta. For an added challenge, don’t tell them the number of crumbs before they start. Quicker picker upper wins. Establish penalties for missed crumbs. 

Cooking - assign betas to prepare their best tea sandwiches in under 30 minutes. Judges award points for taste. 

Wine selection - each beta must bring a bottle of wine in the $25-35 price range. Judges award points for taste, uniqueness and optionally for quality of wine service. 

Decoration - assign each beta a section of the room to decorate for the event in advance. Award points for attractiveness, adherence to theme and creativity. 

Slipper fetching - beta is told to fetch slippers from another room. beta encounters a number of unexpected hurdles in the process: slippers aren’t in expected location, right and left slippers not together, slippers don’t match description given, …. betas are judged on autonomy, problem-solving and adaptability. 

Fashion sense - each beta is given one square yard of fabric, scissors, a stapler and safety pins. beta must use these and only these items to construct an outfit that he will wear with nothing else on. You might have them model with a catwalk, or wear their outfit for the whole event. 

Rub off - women are blindfolded. Each beta gets 5 minutes to anonymously massage the feet of each lady. Each lady then stack ranks the quality of their massages before the betas’ identities are revealed. Winner is the beta with highest average rank. 

Command following - betas play a round of "Mistress Says", a spicier version of "Simon Says" you played in school. Be sure to put the betas in uncomfortable and humiliating positions, then release them without saying, "Mistress says".

Gold medal winner gets 10 bare bottom swats from the lady of his choice. Silver medalist gets 10 swats from each of two women, selected by the women. Bronze medalist gets 10 swats from all of the ladies. If there are more than three betas, the remaining losers get sent home.

From MsFern 

"The Simp". In this game, everyone writes down their most embarrassing moments on pieces of paper and puts them in a bowl. Then, betas take turns drawing a piece of paper from the bowl and having to act out the embarrassing moment while the others cheer them on.

"Unfair Treatment". The beta boy who is chosen to be the target for the night is given a list of tasks and challenges to complete within a certain amount of time. If the beta boy fails any task, he must perform a degrading action such as begging or groveling.

[soaps-mohawk]

Hey fav author^^ how are you doing today? I hope your day went well.

I have a few questions. Some of them probably don’t really matter in whole to the story, but I think it would just help me grasp with the characters better.

My first question would be, how tall are the boys? Are they like the same height as they are in the games? (Ex: on their medical sheets, it says their height and all that) or are they more taller/shorter?

My second question is, when do most people start to present their like A/B/O rank? Is it a certain age, like when they reach adulthood or something? Or is it randomized?

My third question is, if the boys would ever go off deployment, like to visit family or something, would the reader stay on base or would she go with them? I doubt that’ll happen in the story, but I’m just somewhat curious lol.

I was also wondering if you could maybe do like, one of those flat maps (like floor plans I think-?) to show how the base is situated? Like who is where and how far certain buildings are. Don’t feel pressured to do it, just wondering.

Anyways, I hope the rest of your day and week goes well! Please remember to eat something, drink some water, get some rest, go and get some fresh air, and take a shower^^

Hello lovely anon!!! I've been alright. My headache finally went away but my neck still aches which is just making my head ache again 😭

Oh well, such is life I guess.

As far as the questions go,

The boys are the same height as they are in the games (going off the actors heights too cause I know we don't have all of them exactly lol). Price is 6'2, Gaz is about 6'0, Johnny is about 5'11, and Ghost is 6'3 roughly.

Most people present around age 16ish. It does vary, kind of like puberty (presentation is basically puberty in this universe lol) some might present as early as 13 or 14, some might be late bloomers and present around 17 or even 18. Typically if a pup hasn't presented by 18 (which is considered choosing age for omegas (yes that's supposed to feel gross)), then they're considered delayed and there needs to be some check-ups done to see what might be causing it, as that won't happen without some good reason like a medical issue or hormone imbalance, etc. Typical age though is around the 16th birthday, which is when reader presented.

Hmm it's hard to say? If they were all going at the same time then it would probably be rock-paper-scissors type situation to decide who she's going with. Like whose family wants to meet her the most kind of thing. If one (or more) are staying on base though, she might stay as well, or she could still go. Just kind of depends.

Sure! I can do a little floor plan drawing (you can see my terrible art skills lol). When I'm at my desktop next I'll whip out the drawing pad and do a floor plan and also maybe a layout of the reader's room as well, since I'm horrible at describing those things lmaoo

Take care of yourself too, anon!! The world is crazy out there.

[unitezine]

I have not included the shows of characters who were playable in Attack of the Toybots!