Valhalla Arena

Public Restricted

Established: 2024-08-26
Chat room: #Valhalla_Arena

Even match
Long-term roleplay
Male / Male
Male / Female
Female / Female

The last frontier of fighting, where Gods, Humans, creatures, demons.. of any race and gender can compete.

40 members

12 stories

2 photos

0 files

←

Mikasa vs Haruka - Pro wrestling (Part 1)

→

Starring

Ackerman Mikasa

Nanase Haruka

MIKASA ACKERMAN VS HARUKA NANASE

In the unforgiving world of Attack on Titan, where survival is won through either blood or corruption, a new kind of challenge rises— one not fought on the battlefield, but in the pro wrestling ring of Mitras, the very capital of Eldia.

From the shores of Italy, Haruka Nanase — a proud swimmer turned fighter — has crossed land and sea to reach the fortified walls of Eldia. Known for his unshakable will, Haruka has faced warriors from every realm: crazy sadists, pro wrestlers and powerful sorcerers. But within the capital city of Mitras, in a packed arena under the glow of titan-era spotlights, he now prepares for something far beyond anything he's known. A clash not just of fighters — but of pride.

For the first time in his career, Haruka will face an Ackerman.

Mikasa Ackerman. The name alone strikes deep into the bones of countries across the globe. Born of a bloodline forged to create perfect killing machines, warriors with stenght comparable to titans, inhumanly durable, . Legends tell of their genes activating in moments of mortal need, unlocking power that defies human comprehension, a power that cannot be obtained — only inherited.

And Mikasa… is the pinnacle of that bloodline.

They call her the 'Strongest Woman in the World', the 'Titan slayer'.. 'War Goddess'. She doesn’t just win — she dominates the ring, no matter the style of the match. No opponent has walked away from her matches on their own feet, standing at 36 wins - 0 losses - 1 tie, Mikasa embodies the definition of steongest. Her body is sculpted, her legendary sixpack is a proof of her power as a woman.

Haruka may be a master of water, movement, and stamina, but he now walks into a storm unlike any he’s ever known. For this isn’t just a fight. It’s an awakening of primal force. The swimmer meets the soldier. Grit meets legacy. And for the first time, Haruka must face not just a powerful woman — but a living weapon.

Today a brave swimmer will face a woman worth a hundred soldiers. Will he shock the world, breaking the Ackerman in front of her audience, or will he drown, as the sea will be to wild for him to handle?

Ackerman_Mikasa:

The crowd in Mitras is insane tonight. Loud. Hungry. Their voices echo like a storm through the stone coliseum built right in the heart of the city. The Queen's idea—make a spectacle of strength, show the world Eldia doesn’t kneel.And me? I’m the reason they came.I stand under the archway, shadowed by the massive entrance. The long green cloak of the Scout Regiment flaps behind me in the wind, that Wings of Freedom patch catching flickers of torchlight. Every step I take toward the ring makes the crowd roar louder. They chant my name, not for a show, mot for fame. They chant because they know—Eldia will not lose.I climb the steel steps, and the sun above’s just starting to fade into orange. Perfect timing.Across the arena, banners of different nations hang, but mine—the blue and white of the Scouts—hangs highest.The cloak comes off first. I drop it to the ground, the breeze catching my hair as it falls down my back. I tug off the straps of the uniform top, peeling it from my skin slowly, revealing the black sportsbra underneath. The crowd whistles, shouts, some even chant louder. I ignore them.I kick off my boots, letting my feet bare and slide down the bottom half of the uniform until I’m left in tight, black sport panties, the crowd goes insane as they take a look at my perfect butt cheeks. Simple. My abs clench as I stretch my back.. Every muscle is tight, trained, earned through years of fighting for survival. My thighs flex with every breath. Shoulders wide, arms strong enough to crack a jaw with one strike.I roll my neck. Then I step into my corner, the floor warm under my bare feet. I plant myself down, stretch back with both arms raised behind me, spine arching, slow and casual. Like I’m not even breaking a sweat, showing off my muscular body to the crowd. Let FishBBBBOY see what he's dealing with.I smirk, just a little..Let him come: Fishboy. Haruka Nanase. The so-called "best swimmer in Italy." He came all the way here to test me. Test us. As if moving fast through water makes you a warrior.

Nanase_Haruka:

The arena lights dim out, now, only the sun setting brighten this magnificent location. The crowd alredy buzzing, murmur of excitement for the match that's about to unfold, you've got them pretty hyped up.. the perfect welcome for my entrance! Suddenly, my theme song burst out loud from the speakers, Rage on, from Free! first season opening echoes through the stone Coliseum as a blue halo lighten the path towards the ring. Striding with steady, confident step, I make my appearance from behind the curtains, right under those massive arches. The natural light of the sun showers my chiseled physique from head to toe, glistening under the rays, my frame is imposing. Countless of hours in the pool honed what you're soon going to discover, and get overwhelmed by, a frame that exudes confidence, the very pride of being a swimmer. Reaching the ringside, I grab the apron and pull myself in, sliding underneath the bottom ropes with a smooth motion. With an elegant kip-up I pushed my frame up, the canvas parting ways with my body as I landed gracefully on my feet. Standing in the center of the ring, I threw my arms over my shoulders, hitting quite the aesthetic pose while stretching out. The muscles of my toned upper body in highlight as I sport only my iconic black swimsuit with blue stripes on the side, this attire has made me famous all over the globe by now. Then, walking towards my corner, I glanced in your direction, breathing in and out to prepare myself for this match, to calm myself down for the storm I'm about to face. A blend of determination and curiosity surges from my eyes as I lean onto my corner, back meeting the turnbuckle as I look at you. That body.. barely covered by the thin fabric of your attire.. that overwhelming presence.. how captivating, I couldn't ask for more! I don't let a single word out, though, letting my blue eyes do all the talking for now as I wait for this match to start.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

You slip into the ring like a shadow through water—clean, practiced, flawless. The crowd erupts again, still unsure whether to cheer or brace for what’s coming. You're famous. Elegant. The pride of the pool. But this isn’t your pool, Haruka. This is my world. I didn’t use a theme. No grand entrance. Just the sound of boots against the tloor, and the rustling of the cloak I left behind. The noise from the crowd was enough. They’re not cheering for a show. They’re here for a reckoning. I rest in my corner, elbows draped across the top ropes, letting the last sunlight pour over me. The soft fabric of my bra clings to my skin, and the defined ridges of my abs tighten with every breath—deep, steady, calm. The kind of calm before a thunderclap. Then my eyes fall on you. As you slip under the bottom rope, you’ve let your body to be exposed—my cold gaze studies your form—lean but muscular, swimmer’s frame sculpted for grace and control. I can see it all, every detail honed through effort and sacrifice though your career, each competition brought you to a new level, to new heights, your body is a testament of perseverance and sacrifice. Especially your back—it’s strong, wide... powerful, but not nearly as strong and muscular as the back of the strongest woman in Eldia. Today, you're facing a storm. That back won’t save you here, you won’t swim out of this, your only priority now is survival. I let the words play silently in my head as the wind picks up just slightly, fluttering the banners above. Then finally rhe bell rings. I push off from the corner, taking slow, deliberate steps forward. Hands up, sharp stance, weight light on the heels of my feet. My expression doesn’t change. No smile. No words. Just eyes locked on you, cutting through the distance. Let’s see if you'll be swimming, or sink down into the abyss.

Nanase_Haruka:

The atmosphere is alredy electrifying, vibrant.. a declaration made by the both of us with just our eyes, sparks flying even before the match has officially started. But what was truly mesmerizing is the crowd, chants, chores and wild cheers flew across the stage, blending in a dulcet song for my ears.. I can't let down the expectations for this match. A few breaths slips past my lips, chest heaving, muscles tensing, air blown out. A calm demeanor characterize the look on my eyes as they steadily dart all over you, the same way yours study me.. mine watches and observe that body. We have differents background, contrasting ideals, divergent visions of the world, but it's clear, just by how your frame shifts in this staredown of ours, that we have one thing in common. We're both here to win, to demonstrate something, to prove who's better between us. It's as simple as that. Then, as the breeze of the sun setting blew fort upon my body, a soft smile pull at my lips. I'm ready, I've never been more. And then, a familiar melody flew across the arena, a dulcet song that signal the start of this match. *DING DING DING* As the bell finally rings, I push against the turnbuckle to get out from the corner. Steady, confident steps accompany me towards the middle of the ring, the canvas feels great underneath my soles. At the same time, my eyes never leaves you, observing every subtle movements. And then, I move in, striding towards you with determination surging from every inches of my well-trained body. Hands shooting up, fingers spread and palms facing you. With my arms now at shoulders level, I close the distance, only the thick, electrifying air divide us now. My back, my indomitable statement as a swimmer, is alredy wide open, flexed.. tensed, ready to take you on. My hands reach for yours, trying to intertwine our fingers together for an 'ol fashioned Test of Strength, attempting to push you backward and against the very same corner you just came out.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

I'm surprised that you decide to step forward first, taking the initiative against me, so i approach the center of the ring with both hands raised up, accepting the classic test of strengh, a true contrst of power and skill. The moment we lock hands, I push forward with a force that’s known in the scout regiment.. a force which is unmatched. My arms drive against yours, my muscles flexing, every inch of my body committing to the challenge as I force you back. I can feel your resistance—the tension in your body as you brace, your back already flexing, your swimmer's frame, ready to fight for every inch. For a moment, I give you no room to breathe, my heels digging into the canvas, my weight sinking into the pressure, forcing you to step back as im only using a fraction of my force. I see it in your eyes—the realization that I’m not holding back, yet im also not going all in. I’m relentless. I push harder, forcing you to dig deeper, to lean into that strength. If you push back against me, the pressure would build, and soon your arms will be trembling under the weight of my unmatched strenght. And then, just as it seems like I’ve almost got you cornered, I make it look like the resistance is faltering. I stop out of nowhere, letting you fall for your own momentum, moving forward while i move backwards, The suddenness of it would atch you off guard as I use your own force against you. I step back—just enough to let your momentum carry you forward, pulling you into the trap. I pivot sharply, and in the same motion, my left knee drives upward, striking your stomach with the force of a battering ram, making sure your wind is knocked off your body. The blow lands clean, the air leaving your lungs in a rush, forcing your body to fold inward from the impact. Your face tightens in surprise, and I let you stumble back, just for a moment. I stand firm, my posture unwavering, watching you as you struggle to recover. There’s no rush, no need to hurry.

: You’re learning quickly that this arena is unforgiving. "Welcome to a real arena, Haruka." as i speak, i hold your skull down using just one hand, so i can jump up and move myself to the side just a little, enough to drop my right thigh on top of your head, crashing your face first into the canvas by my large, heavy and well trained quad muscle.

Nanase_Haruka:

The moment our hands clasp together I can feel all the resolve behind your grip, this is not your average Test of Strength. My fingers graze your skin, our flesh meeting for the first time.. but I can't even savor this moment that your push came in. Fierce as a tidal wave crashing onto the shore, you drive me backward, your arms thrust while mine tense up. We've barely started, and yet, you're alredy leaving me no room to act as I wanted. A thin droplet of sweat drops down from my forehead, my back alredy flexed to its full extent, a magnificent show for the crowd watching in awe this clash of strength and skills. But I'm here to prove my worth, not to be a mere stepping stone for your tale.. my core straighten, quads pulsating as I dig deep my feet into the canvas, heels sinking into the mat as I fight against you. "Nghhhh..!" A groan leave my lips while I try to resist this overwhelming strength, it feels like I'm fighting a huge wall.. but somehow, I was holding my ground.. or so it seemed. Suddenly, the tension between our arms falter, and now.. I'm the one who's leading the push. A soft smile forms under my lips as I thrust fiercely, but it's short lived as, in the blink of an eye, everything falls apart. I should have seen it coming, yet.. I got blinded by the sudden switch in the momentum. Driven forward by my own greedy push, my abdomen meet your knee with a sickening thud as a result. "Gwaah!" My lips part, an ugly choked gasp leave my mouth as I double down. My hands immediately slide down, clutching my sore midsection as air stopped flowing in. I'm alredy out winded after just one hit. Crap. My legs stumble a few steps back, my face morphs into a blend of pain and regret, but I don't have the time to even brace myself as you hold me down now. With a mockingly grip, you push my skull down, a showcase of dominance and control as I struggle to even catch my breath properly.. and then, steady as guillotine, your right thigh came down. "Ughhh-" A groan slips past my lips as you crash me face-first on the unforgiving canvas with a Leg Drop. My head bounce slightly under your massive thigh, my limbs jolting before flopping down on the mat. Your words, though a bit confused, rings into my ears as I lay sprawled stomach first.. eyes slightly closed, breath slowly returning but uneven.. my back rises and falls back down as the hit left me a little dazed. "N-Nghhh.."

Ackerman_Mikasa:

The arena rumbles beneath my feet as I rise, the roar of Mitras climbing with me. Not with pomp, not with the flash of an entrance theme or fancy footwork—no, their voices rise because they’ve seen something real. Something that cuts through the pretense. I stand tall, breath calm, eyes fixed on the figure writhing at my feet. You’re not quite down, but you’re not standing either. That makes you vulnerable. And I don’t waste opportunities. I begin to move—not fast, not frantic. Purposeful. Like a storm cloud drifting closer. I circle you once, the soles of my stinky feet dragging gently against the mat with a friction-heavy rhythm, and then I lean down, fingers slipping into that dark tangle of your hair. I grip it—not kindly. My fist closes tight, dragging you up by your scalp like you’re nothing more than a ragdoll. Your arms flail for just a moment, your body still catching up with your senses. You’re on your knees one second, upright the next, gasping as I pull you to your feet without ceremony, without pause, if everything goes accordingly to plan of course. No words yet. The crowd is enough. The sound of Mitras rising in waves echoes through the arena as I step behind you, close, my body flush to your back. And then, with a movement that feels almost surgical in its precision, I hook my right leg up—fluid, almost graceful—and drape it over the side of your neck, catching it tight against your shoulder. My left arm slips under your arm, locking it into place, keeping you helpless while I pivot slightly. In one seamless motion, I move my left leg and snake it around the inside of your thigh, curling it up around your hip until I have you completely trapped—limb by limb, breath by breath.

I anchor myself to you like a second skin, bending your torso sideways at a cruel angle, forcing your spine and core to stretch painfully as I contort you into a brutal, painful submission hold. The crowd is amazed by the submission lock i managed to pull off but this is just one of your precious octopus holds—ripped from the pages of your octopussy book, twisted and weaponized. But it feels different now. It feels worse. You’re not in control of it anymore. You're trapped in your own creation as i take this straight from your octopussy book of fisherholds, strangled and stretched under my command. Your body trembles in my grip, sweat sliding down your spine, and I finally lean in, breath brushing the back of your ear like a whisper from the abyss. “What’s wrong, Haruka? Don’t like the view from your own tank?” My voice is low, calm—devoid of effort, as if I’m barely exerting myself while bending you like wire. The crowd erupts again, a mixture of awe, disbelief, and raw admiration as I cinch the hold tighter, the strain on your abdomen and shoulder now visibly pulling your frame, your obliques flexing up as i apply more twisting pressure. And I don’t release, not yet. I let you suffer there for a moment longer—until your body understands what helplessness feels like.

Nanase_Haruka:

Still reeling from that brutal Leg Drop, the deafening roars of the crowd buzz through my ears, a series of chants that reminds me of the position I am in right now. I need time to recover from this obscene start, but of course, you won't give me any. My back heave up and falls down with each labored breath I take, a stark contrast to the ominous figure towering over my body.. a looming presence stand above me, and every single one of your step is a sentence.. you're coming, and I'm not ready yet. "A-Aghh.." A faint grunt escapes from me as you grip tightly my hair, a few strands entangle with your fingers, and with an harsh tug on my scalp, I'm lifted up, roughly. First on my knees, then on my feet, I'm forcibly brought up.. legs still shaking a bit, failing to catch my weight completely as my arms jolts, a weak struggle to regain my senses while feeble gasps slips past my lips. Through dazed eyes I see you in front of me, holding me up.. I blink, for just a moment, and you're not there anymore.. your toned body now stand behind mine, a threat is coming. "W-Wait.. N-No.." I weakly protest as your frame glues into mine. Your body coils around mine like a swift, deadly snake.. and with a motion as fluid as a tranquil torrent, you drape yourself onto me with a torquing Standing Octopus Hold! One of my arms is trapped, as well as one of my legs while I'm forced to lean onto your toned midsection. One of your legs draped over my head, pulling down.. threatening to separate my neck from my shoulder, I'm trapped. "A-Aghhhh!! F-Fuck..!!" I groan out loud. The pain is immediate, unforgiving as my frame tremble, tense to somehow cope with the ever-growing strain. My stretched out spine brush against the racks of your abs, arched in a cruel angle while sweat begun to drip down.. Half of my limbs are in your possession, the others barely hold me on.. and then, that mocking, soulless words came in.. mining at my very pride.

You're aiming to break me in more than one way, it's clear.. and with every deliberate tug on my body, it gets more and more visible. Fuck. "D-Don't.. under..estimate me.. Mi..ka..sa.." I grunt under my breath, shallow.. unsteady.. but still there. I clench my teeth while moving my free arm on your ankle, determination surges from my eyes as I push up, trying to move your limb away.. but I know, it's no use. Instead, I grip it tightly, fingers lacing firmly around your skin, to have a better leverage. You took this hold from my book, and I'm going to show you its greatest weakness.. Shifting my weight onto my hips, I ease the pain on my torqued side, enough for us to slightly bend down, giving you the feeling that my body has given up, stopped fighting back, a false sense of security. Or in this case, of superiority.. there, my free leg fold, my sole grasping the canvas, and then, at this moment.. when you're at your highest, I struck. My leg explode against the mat, trusting in with everything I have, aiming to unbalance your precarious standing leg. Afterall, you've just one limb supporting our combined weight. With a precise motion, I aim to force your frame back-first against the canvas with me on top, using my weight to squash you down underneath my pride as a swimmer, my back. And, if everything went accordingly, I'd use this tiny, little frame to slip free from your grasp. Rolling a few times, away from you to catch my breath. I may lack the power, the strength necessary to break free from your tremendous holds, but I have the knowledge by my side.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

Your body struggles in my grasp—tense, soaked in sweat, bent at a cruel angle against the hard lines of mine. I can feel your spine press against my core, each tremor a desperate signal that your threshold is nearing its limit. My arms remain locked, my bare foot planted firmly into the canvas, toes curled slightly as I ground myself, balancing all your weight through one standing leg. It’s risky, sure. But I’ve made a living out of calculated risks. And still... you endure. Even in my hold, that is remarkable. I feel your hand move—not wild, not flailing, but guided. Focused. It wraps around my ankle with purpose, not panic, and immediately I know you’re not just reacting anymore. You’re planning. My brow twitches, just faintly, but I don’t shift. I hold the lock, twisting your torso, dragging that groan from your throat as I press tighter. Let the audience see it, let Mitras remember. Then something changes. Your hips drop, just slightly—enough to ttake pressure off your side. Not enough to break the hold, but enough to create more space. You start sinking, slow, like your body is fading... failing. Your weight shifts back into mine, and for a moment, it feels like you're about to collapse—like your body has finally given in. But no. The mat vibrates beneath us—your leg shoots out like a bolt, stomping with everything you have, and suddenly I feel it: the shockwave through my balance. My support leg wavers, falters just for an instant under the load of both our bodies. Just long enough. You twist, fast, your torso slipping beneath my grip like a fish through water. I try to cling on—but you drop. Hard. And I go with you. My back hits the mat. It’s not graceful. It’s not pretty. Aa bit of the air leaves my lungs in a dull thud as I’m planted beneath you, your back crashes over my front, squishing my breast under your weight. Your weight pins me down for a mere second. You don’t stay long. You roll, fast, like instinct, your body curling into itself and twisting away from my grasp My arm twitches toward you, but it’s too late. You’re already a few feet away, low to the ground, chest heaving. Your hair sticks to your forehead, sweat dripping from your jaw, but there’s something sharpe r in your eyes now. That glint of knowledge. Of pride. I shift onto my side, elbows pushing me upright again. A breath slides through my nose. Calm. Focused. I’m not angry. In fact, I almost smile. "So you do know how to fight your way out, huh..” My arms flex as I rise, slow and steady, my bare feet are now kissing the mat, making sure they collect as much dirt se they can, savour the best for you later. The pressure in the arena builds like a rising tide. I let it rise with me. This isn’t over. You slipped free—but all you’ve done is prove you belong here. And now? Now, you have my full attention, my cold eyes glaring back at you once more.

Nanase_Haruka:

"Pheww.." I exhale, panting a bit. My chest tensing up with every breath, my body still aching from the excruciating submission you've used on me, the strain struggle to leave. Still, I've escaped, slipped away from your grasp, and with this.. I've proved that I belong here, a first step in the right direction.The crowd erupting in a wild cheer, they alredy thought the match was as good as done, tsk.. everything here is against me. "You're still looking at me.. as if I'm not even worth your time.." I huff. I may have your attention, but definitely not your respect. With a few more hard labored breaths, I rise up, pushing against the pain as I straighten up. My frame is alredy covered in sweat, yours a bit in mine.. have I ever looked so pitiful? Probably not.. but that's thrilling, to say the least. My eyes, gleaming of a new found spirit, darting all over your body.. trying to catch the subtle change in your stance, but then.. they stop for just a moment on your feet. You're deliberately dirtying them?! Well, whatever.. it's none of my business.. or is it? A light sparks in me, a bold strategy comes to my mind. "Well.. if you wanna walk that badly, why don't you come closer.." I say in a deliberately taunting tone as I take just a single step in your direction, paying attention it's just one. Then, with a subtle smirk, I step back.. purposely putting distance between us.. waiting for the moment you commit to your steps. I deliberately walk backwards, step after step until.. I place my right foot on the canvas, the whole weight of my body on my toes as my eyes are locked with yours, challenging you with my gaze and then.. exactly when the crowd goes silent.. I rush in once again.

My feet push against the solid canvas, my calves flexes as my quads pulsate. From my straight stance I lower down, arms opening up, my shoulders never looked wider before as I explode in your direction. My body curls like a torpedo, striding in your direction with my whole weight behind it. My back is solid, the muscles on my shoulders are clenched and ready to take you on. Step after step I inch closer, aiming to catch you off guard with a Spear out of nowhere! If I've learned something in this brief time, is that I should face you with my best. Head on with everything I have, there's no need to hold back.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

Your body launches like a missile, low and deadly, a blur of motion packed with raw, swimmer-trained power. The way your muscles ripple and tense, there’s no doubt in your intent—this isn’t just some desperate shot in the dark. You’re aiming to split me in two with this spear. And maybe… on someone else, it would’ve worked. But not on me. I read the shift in your hips the moment your calves explode off the mat. I see the way your back tightens, the way your shoulders flatten and close in like a predator locking onto its prey. You commit. Good. You finally learned to go all in. And that's when I drop. My bare :3 feet bracing firmly against the canvas, I lower myself, my core tightening like a vice as I brace for the impact. The moment your shoulder crashes into my midsection, I grunt—not from pain, but from the sheer force of you throwing yourself at me. My abs clench hard, grounding me like a statue. Your head presses into my ribs, your arms start wrapping around—but my arms are already in motion. I grit my teeth, my breath hissing between them as I catch you tight. “Nice try.” My voice is a low growl, a thin, biting thread of amusement behind it. My hands snake around your waist, my grip like iron. I twist my hips violently to the side, pivoting on my heel while stepping between your legs with my left. My thigh slides through the space between your own, a split-second balance shift that spells your downfall. With a fluid pull of your weight and a snap of mine, I heave your entire frame sideways over my hip in a clean, brutal hip toss, more like a side suplex rathert than a regular toss. Your body arcs in the air for just a breathless moment before it crashes down against the canvas with a flat, thunderous slap that echoes through the arena. The ring quakes slightly beneath us, the crowd howling like hungry wolves at the display of raw, controlled power. I don’t waste time. Even before your body settles, I’m already shifting. One knee drops to the mat beside your ribs, my body lowering again, chest nearly against your back. My right arm threads beneath your chin, searching, trying to trap your neck into the crook of my elbow as I sltretch across you. My other hand reaches across your face, fingertips grasping for your far arm, yanking it back sharply to hook my legs around itt. A Crossface—or at least, the attempt of one.

Nanase_Haruka:

My shoulder connect, ramming with precision in the middle of your abdomen. The hit is clean, fierce.. you can perceive the weight behind it, the years spent to hone a move aimed to either turn the tide of a match or end it completely, and yet, the result is neither of the two. A shock travel the whole of my body, a shiver runs down my spine, an omen that spells disaster. My broad, toned shoulder crashed into your midsection, but you're still standing, heck.. I'm barely moving you backward.. usually, an opponent either dodge it or counter before it lands, but you.. you've taken it head on.. it's the first time ever, I'm in utterly disbelief! "Wh-What!?" I exclaim bewildered, words barely leaves me as I push with my frame against yours, my shoulder brushing your clenched-hard abs.. but the result is the same as before.. your feet barely slides along the canvas. But I don't have the time to even register the shock of my move being completely nullified, that your arms slither down and around my waist before I could mine to use. I've tried to lure you into a trap, but the only one getting caught is me.. the realization of my foolish attempt dawm upon me, hitting me harder than whatever you've in store for me. "S-Shit.." I gasp out, feeling my feet parting ways with the canvas.

The world around me spin, a complete turn around.. the up is now down, and vice versa.. everything stop for a moment, my eyes shut down as I brace myself.. and then, a loud THUD follows as my spine meet the canvas with a tremendous Side Suplex, the blow reverberates through my whole frame. "Aghhh-" I grunt loudly spitting a bit of saliva, back arching from the impact as the canvas beneath me quakes slightly. But once again, I can't even register what's happening, the shock of my move being countered in the most unexpected way hasn't settled yet.. and I find myself in another dire spot.

My body is forced stomach-first against the mat, you next to me with your knee pressing on my side. "A-Aghhh n-not.. a-aaagain!!" I groan as I feel your arms sneaking around my head, your bicep squishing my cheeks on one side, the forearm on the other while my chin nest perfectly in the crook of your elbow. And then, the jolt struck! My upper body is arched backward, one of my arms snatched and imprisoned between your strong, thick thighs as the strain of the hold sink in. A perfectly executed Crossface Hold! Once again the strain is immediate, waves of pain surging across my toned back, muscles tensing to bear the ever-growing suffering. My legs kicks the mat wildly as you yank back on my head, in this position you have the perfect leverage on me, I'm trapped, stuck in your grasp. My free arm at first flails frantically before it reached for yours, hand gripping your bicep, fingers sinking into your flesh as your taut muscles clench around my features. It's useless.. I can't pry it apart. "N-NGHHH!!" My voice muffled, covered my your flesh as I squirm in your grasp, eyes slightly closing down while my frame is bent at your will.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

Your mouth barely opens—my bicep is already there, swollen and flexed against your face, sealing off sound before it even leaves your throat. My arm is locked in deep around your head, the crook of my elbow snug beneath your jaw, and your groans come out muffled, swallowed by the sheer bulk of my arm pressing against your lips. My skin is slick with sweat, every twitch of my bicep smearing warmth and salt across your cheek as I crank your head back farther. I breathe slow and steady through my nose, my focus on the tension in your spine, the trembling of your trapped arm, and the little bursts of struggle rippling through your body. I can feel you trying to resist. Trying to breathe. Your fingers claw weakly at my forearm. My hold only tightens, making you know how pointless it is to rebel against the inevitable. But I don’t hold forever. Instead, I move carefully, but quick enough to not let you room to work with. I let go of your face and i quickly roll myself twice to end up on top of your back, i begin to stand slowly, grabbing your legs and hook them around my right leg, then i arch my body backwards till i touch the mat beside your head with both my hands, almost colliding our skulls. I quickly grab your chin with both hands amd i begin the Emma lock torture, trapping you in a devastating submission hold. My abs are stretched to the sky, my quads flexing as i keep myself in this position, the long, lean lines of my torso strained into a deep arch, each ridge of my abdominal wall visible, twitching with effort. My thighs, slick with sweat and flushed from the heat of the match, stay locked and unmoving around your legs, holding you down with raw power.

My glutes clench tight, helping me balance as I stay suspended over your broken form. The crowd erupts into a wave of chaos, cheering, stomping, some even screaming my name. The arena in Mitras is alive, wild, the sound bouncing off every steel beam and every stone in the foundation. Lights flash across our skin, picking up every drop of sweat rolling down my ribs, every shudder of your breath. My bare feet dig into the mat for better leverage. The tension in my quads and back is brutal now, but I refuse to waver. I tilt my chin just slightly to the side, eyes locked on yours from the side as I pull back harder on your jaw. The pressure I’m putting on your neck and spine could snap a weaker fighter in two. Every inch of your body is stretched over mine, your ribs forced wide over the mat, your back arched unnaturally. My biceps bulge alongside my triceps, looking as strong as ever. I don’t need to say anything. The crowd says it all for me. But still, I whisper—barely loud enough for you to hear beneath the roar of the arena: “Now .. .how will you get away from this Fishboy?”

Nanase_Haruka:

The situation was alredy desperate, every seconds was more agonizing than the previous one, and the more I struggled to pry open your choking arm.. the more the hold sinked deeper. A few ugly, gagged gasp left my lips, muffled under the unrelenting pressure of your bicep melding onto my features. The strain onto my back intensify, every calculated tug on my head arches my spine more.. and with just one arm free.. I'm truly powerless against the relentless pressure that pours in. "N-NGHHH.. AAGGHH-AAGHH!!" Sounds barely leaving my mouth as I desperately try to breath, lips slightly opens.. enough for me to taste the saltines of your sweat-coated arm. A hoax on top of the harm. But then, as if it was an act of mercy.. the burden on my spine ease, my head collapse on the canvas as a hard labored breath slips from my mouth. My body relaxes for a moment, tasting what freedom is.. but it was merely an illusion. Without giving me the slightest chance to adapt to your pace, I feel the shifting in your position. You're on top of me, back to back as you lay on my pride as a swimmer. Then, as you swiftly stand up, my legs are quickly snatched and entangled with one of yours.. Instinctively, I attempt to crawl away, trying to seize a few precious inches before you inevitably drop backward. Our heads are next to each other as I alredy know what's coming now. "N-Nghhh.. F-Fuck.. G-Gwaahh..!!" I groan out as I felt your hands cupping underneath my chin.. and then, the agonizing tension resurface. Arched almost as a fully tensed bow, my head is pulled backwards as you lock in a devastating Emma Lock Submission! My face almost pointing up at the sky as my spine is subjected to yet another harsh punishment. It seems like.. you're targeting the feature of my body I'm most proud of, my toned back. My arms flails wildly before setting on the canvas, palms sliding along the mat as I claw at the apron, sinking my fingers in it.

My teeth are clench, almost as my spine is.. abs burning for the unnatural torque you're applying while the legs are knot with yours. You have my whole frame locked in, showcasing the expertise and the mastery you have on the human body. And, as our bodies glisten under the spotlights, your words of mockery slides in.. I can't hear anything but those taunts.. a provocation louder than every roar the crowd could ever muster. This is everything I needed now.. you may break my body.. but not my spirit. Gritting my teeth, I grip the apron with my fingers, using everything I've left to drag us on the canvas.. the sweat actually helping me out as I also plant my elbows on the thick, white mat underneath me. A pure demonstration of sheer willpower as I fight against the ever-growing agony on my body. Every inch I snatch is a step towards the ropes, towards the only hope I've left right now. "N-Nghhh.. C-Come.. O-On..!!" A growl to boost myself, to push against the inevitable. Adrenaline rushing through my body, my veins.. I haven't accomplished anything in this ring if not trying to survive your assault.. everything's going according to how you described it.. fuck. But those exact thoughts are what keeps me going, I have to demonstrate that I'm not just a pushover.. not a stepping stone for your to stomp as you please. "I'm.. N-Nghh.. Almost.. T-There.." I hiss under my strained breath, extending my left arm. And with one last, desperate push, I curl my fingers around the bottom rope. The thick fabric of the cords never felt so satisfying to touch as I call for a rope break.. trying to catch a much needed moment of relief from this hell on earth.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

My abs are stretched to the sky, my quads flexing as i keep myself in this position, the tension through my body like a bridge pulled taut. I can feel you struggling beneath me, the shake in your arms, the way your back flexes in desperation. My fingers dig into your chin with force, trying to wrench your head back just a bit more, but the sweat between us is making my grip slippery. I try to readjust, clenching my jaw in frustration, my palms sliding a bit as I lose some of that perfect control. Still, I hold on. One second. Two. Three, just enough to brush the limit imposed by the rules, without breaking them. My body screams at me to release the hold, and I finally listen, not out of mnercy, but because the position won’t hold much longer. The ropes saved you, but my grip was already fraying. I let go. My hands release your chin with a sharp motion, and I unwind my leg from yours. I roll backward and slowly rise to my feet, the lights above catching every twitch and ripple of my bare, sweat-coated body. My chest heaves as I stand over you, my breathing heavy but controlled. My back glistens, the deep curve in my spine still unwinding from the strain of the lock. My calves and quads throb slightly from the constant tension. The crowd is going crazy. The sound is deafening—some screaming in awe, others chanting your name after that display of sheer willpower, because after all this pain you went through, you deserve lots of prayers, but also a good few roaring mine, lost in the frenzy of the battle. I glance down at you, your fingers still wrapped around the bottom rope, body stretched out, chest rising and falling as you try to pull yourself together. And in that moment, I admire you. Not just as an opponent—but as a fisherman fisherboyrino. “You just don’t quit, do you?” I murmur under my breath, more to myself than to you. There's no sarcasm now, no taunt. Just respect.You're pushing through hell just to stay in this match… and that makes you a respectable opponent. i stand a few meters away from you after getting myself up, looking at your strained frame laying right in front of the bottom rope.

Nanase_Haruka:

One second. Two. Three. Time flows slowly as I hold onto the bottom rope as if my life depends on it, and in a way, it does. Then, the tension around my body loosens. I’m free. I’ve escaped. I’m still in this match. Yes, I’ve escaped certain defeat, but that doesn’t make my situation any better. I’m aware of my current state, I’m standing on a thin thread right now. The breath is shallow, uneven as I suck in as much air as I possibly can. My back heaves up and falls as I cough a few times, my hand still clutches the bottom rope as I lay chest-first on the canvas. I’m doing it because I need time to recover, but I wait on purpose. One. Two. Three. Four. The seconds pass by, I’m being counted out, I know it, but I still wait. Five. Six. My body twitches underneath the relentless chants of this roaring crowd.. finally, I can distinguish some cheers of encouragement directed at me, followed by your words of approval.. you finally recognized me. Seven. Eig-. I began to rise. Holding onto the ropes, I slowly pulled myself up. First on my knees, and then, with an effort that could kill most, up to my feet. I pant, hard and vividly. My face is red due to the lack of oxygen, my frame shakes from the strain, I can't even jabber a few words right now. I lay with my back against the ropes, eyes facing you. There’s still fight left in me, though.. I know very well that the next time you catch me, it will be all over. I know it, still.. I must pursue. Holding onto that tiny burst of adrenaline that helped me escape, I pushed my frame against the ropes and bounced on them to gain a bit of momentum.

I rush in your direction, my right arm extending at your chest level. The skin of my bare feet slips slightly against the canvas, but I keep going. It seems like a telegraphed Clothesline is coming.. but before we can collide, I swiftly retract my arm and duck down, running next and past you. I keep running until I hit the ropes behind you. The thick cords outstretch, my body sinking into them as I rebound. Turning in your direction once again, I leap into the air with both feet facing you at your collarbone level. I straighten myself midair, my body seems like an arrow flying across the arena. The move is quite simple, but with help of the ropes it can be quite effective, a textbook Dropkick! And as I glide in your direction, I hold my breath while waiting for the impact, whether it be on you or.. a huge hole in the water.

Ackerman_Mikasa:

My stance was solid, my breath steady. Yoau were down for the moment. I had control as i stood over you proud, maybe too proud. You were clinging to the ropes like a man barely holding on—exhausted, struggling just to breathe. I thought you were done. And that’s where I made the mistake. You rise slower than before, every movement looking heavy, desperate. I’m watching, but not really watching. My guard is down. I don’t expect you to keep going, not like this. I see you bounce off the ropes, your steps dragging slightly, your arm raising—telegraphing a clothesline. It looks obvious, almost sluggish. I shift my weight to brace for it— But it doesn’t come. You duck, rushing past me, and I turn just in time to see your body rebounding from the opposite ropes—faster now. Too fast. Your feet leave the mat. A flash of movement, a blur of sweat and motion before both of your feet crash right into my chest with a sudden THUMP! The dropkick lands clean, slamming right into my collarbone with enough force to knock the wind out of me. My eyes widen as I'm lifted from the mat, my body arching in mid-air before I hit the canvas hard on my back. "AGH!!" The breath leaves me in one loud grunt, my limbs sprawled from the impact for a second, my breast rising fast as I breathe air back in. The crowd explodes—cheers, gasps, pure noise. They're on their feet now, some in shock, others yelling your name. You actually caught me and I didn’t see it coming.

Nanase_Haruka:

The first landed blow always feels satisfying, but there's something about this one in particular that feels almost.. ecstatic! You didn't see it coming, but it indeed came.. the switch in the momentum I was longing for. The Dropkick sent you crashing down on the canvas back-first, the impact reverberates through the mat as the ropes shakes slightly. Part of the bump I felt it myself, but right now, it doesn't stop me. Adrenaline coursing through my body, urging me to stand up and keep moving forward. "Ahhh.. Finally..!" I exhale, the breath still shallow, but the tone of my voice is different. There's a distinct hint of confidence now. I don't waste much time, though. Rising to a kneeled position next to your side, I observe for just a second your sprawled out frame. My blue eyes engraving this image, sealing it into my mind before I act. My right arm outstretches, the sweat shimmering as I take my form, and then, I let gravity do its work. With a fluid motion I came down, sinking the tip of my elbow into your ripped midsection, an Elbow Drop that aims to drive more air out of your lungs! But it doesn't stop there. If everything worked as planned, I would move quickly, pressing my advantage. Now on my fours, I reach with my right hand the top of your skull, fingers lacing around your sweaty, pitch black strands while I lean in with my head.

"It's time.. to see whether or not.. you're truly the strongest woman in the world.." I whisper into your ear, my breath hot and steamy for the exhausting body-to-body action. And after this deliberate taunt, I push my frame up, rising finally to my feet as I yank you up with me from the solid grasp I have on your hair. As the crowd cheers, I swiftly slip behind you, arms sliding underneath your armpits while the hands clasp on the back of your neck. A few strands intertwined as my fingers lock together, and now, I push down to pour in the pressure of my hold. As I do so, my frame presses into yours, Chest brushing your shoulder blades, abs grinding on your lower back as my crotch involuntary presses onto your rear. The endless skin-to-skin proximity that characterized this match, only gets more intense as I lock in my very first submission, a Full Nelson Hold!

Ackerman_Mikasa:

"Ughhh!!" Your elbow crashes deep into my abs, and my body jolts under the weight of it, legs bending up slightly from the mat in a reflex of pure pain. My hands shoot down, wrapping around my sore, trembling midsection. My abs pulse beneath my palms, flexing and tightening from the sting that ripples across them. The sudden drop, the direct pressure—it knocked the wind right out of me. My breath comes in ragged little gasps, and my torso glistens with sweat, muscles still tensed as I cradle my core. My legs twitch slightly, knees buckling in as I try to turn, but I don’t get far. A sharp tug on my scalp halts everything. "N-Nghh.." I grunt as your fingers tangle in my hair, yanking me upright. My arms hang low at my sides, useless for a moment. My bare feet drag weakly across the mat as you pull me up. I’m lifted more by your force than my own strength, my chest rising with every tired inhale, the sweat from both our bodies mixing as you close the gap behind me. Your arms slip under mine with ease, slick skin gliding against my sweat-slick sides, and your hands clasp behind my neck. The Full Nelson locks in tight. "aah-.. tch..!" a soft moan escapes me before I can stop it, the pressure spreading like fire through my shoulders and neck. My broad back arches involuntarily as you push backwars/upwards, forcing my posture into a stretched-out display. My sixpack flex, glistening with sweat, my sculptured arms splayed helplessly above me in your contro, flailing around but with no use. The lights catch every line of my body—my quads twitching from the effort to stabilize, my toned midsection tight and vulnerable, every inch of me exposed and pulled taut like a sculpted statue straining under the hold. Your chest presses firm against my defined back, and the warmth of your body sinks into mine while my large, soft breast jiggle like jelly for each movement.

I feel your abs grinding into my lower spine, your hips snug against me, the hold leaving no space—just heat, strain, and tension. Your crotch brushes right between my well trained ass cheeks, you can feel how thick they are, how soft they are by the touch of the tip of your bulge, as i struggle in your grasp, my hips move as well as i involuntarly grind my ass over your buldge. In the crowd Jean’s eyes widen, Armin’s lips part in shock, and Eren leans forward, fists clenched at the edge of the ring. Their attention is riveted on me—my muscular body stretched out between your arms, every line of my frame pulled tight and exposed under the bright lights. My abs strain with the pressure, chest heaving, the sweat glistening across my skin as I’m helplessly displayed before them. Annie, Reiner, and Zeke stand off to the side, eyes pointed at me, Annie smirks, Reiner blushes watching my body while Zeke, allthough blushingm he looks forward to see how i will get off from this move. They watc, as my form is caontrolled, the sheer display of my muscles and skin left vulnerable for therir eyes to see. They talk a little between them, The pressure intensifies and a soft, breathy moan escapes from my lips—“Nghhh…ahh..”

Nanase_Haruka:

The Full Nelson is locked in tight, my arms coiled to perfection, helped by the slick-coated skin of ours. The warmth of our bodies mingling, skins melding as I wrench your toned frame in my clutch. My arms tenses, biceps throbbing under the pressure I'm exerting to push down your head. I can feel the stiffness of your body trying to fight against my hold, the struggle of someone who had the match under control just a few moments ago. "I've told you.. to not underestimate me.. Mikasa.." I growl in a soft tone, breath falling short onto your ear, tickling your flesh. I've got you now.. there's no room for you to move freely, I have your frame under my control, a perfect display of my fighting prowess. The crowd watch in awe, a silent show that speaks volumes, they never expected the underdog to gain the upper hand, yet.. it's happening! But as I cinch the hold tighter, your thick, yet firm ass presses more into my crotch. Those round, perky cheeks smushing against my bulge as you can feel a few natural pokes, followed by a soft, steamy moan of my own.

"Nghh.. Ahhh..". My breath breezing on the side of your ear as I lean in slightly, the grip falter for just a second while my heartbeat skyrocket. Heart pounding against my chest, threatening to burst out of my ribcage. That's not good, I can't loose my focus, not now.. I take just a small step back, our flesh parting ways, leaving space for an unexpected cold, the wind blowing between us as our sweat-drenched forms stand. It's not enough to break the hold, but I won't be able to transition to the move I had in mind.. I would have loved to slam you backwards with my Signature 'SeaDragon Suplex'.. but I always have a plan B. Bracing myself, my arms clench tighter as I plant firmly my soles on the canvas. Then, I leap into the air with you still on my grasp, aiming to slam your frame ass-first onto the mat with me right behind you. An Ass-Quake incoming for sure.

If it worked, I would have moved quickly, my arms unwind from yours, sliding down and catching your falling ones by the wrists. Legs taking the place of my arms, thighs wrapping around your stretched outward biceps, ankles crossed as my feet push on the back of your head. Leaning slightly backwards I push with my hands on the canvas, lifting my upper body up, slipping some as the sweat is the way, making it look a bit awkward.. but effective if it works! With a showcase of control, I attempt to transition to one of my Signature moves, a Lotus Lock.. or as I call it, the 'Coral Lock'!

END OF PART 1

The match would surpass the 100.000 characters limit, the fighers shoul yap less and torture each other more, duh. Mikasa Ackerman was in charge for most of the early stage of the match, showing off incredible skills and counters to take down the swimmer. Haruka has proven to be the most relentless pro wrestler she ever faced. Not even Reiner, Levi or Eren proved to be this tough to take down. The so notorious and feared Ackerman is now in trouble. Her powerful frame is trapped by his legs, things are looing ugly for Mikasa.

Published: 2025-05-03, viewed 167 times.