#31 days of apex

[tenebriiz]

🥰

#apex legends #wraith #wraith apex legends #31 days of apex #art #apex #mirage #mirage x wraith #miraith

[pigeon-ker]

Day 8: Sky

#apex legends #31 days of apex #apex wraith #apex mirage #apex pathfinder #miraith #apex legends fanart #they’re hot dropping

[demonwriterx]

31 days of Apex Legends

It’s been a while! But I have been busy with my career and gaming that I haven’t been posting much on my tumble but I saw on Twitter that there is a 31 days of Apex Legends! Which gives me the opportunity to start writing about my favorite game and my two favorite Simulacrums!

Enjoy!

————————————————————

“Water”

It started as a sparring match.

Ash swayed side to side, dodging Revenant’s swift punches towards her head. With each missed attack, he was becoming more and more frustrated and… aggressive. She put an end to their game when he turned his hand into a blade and tried to stab her. He lurched forward, and she used his momentum to slam her knee into his abdomen.

He collapsed on the sand, clutching his stomach, the air knocked right out of him.

“I said, ‘No lethal combat’.” She stated, watching him struggle to recover. He lifted his head at her, his arms still to his gut.

“You ruptured my processing tubes.” He expressed with a glare before releasing a painful groan. She gave him a sniff, having no empathy for his pain.

“Let this be a lesson.” She said, turning away from him, and heard him mutter an obscenity in her name. She glanced up to the sky through the large opening of the cenote, finding the sun right in the middle. They had been training since morning, and she noticed Revenant had been in a mood since they began. “You have been unfocused, sloppy and amateurish in your attacks… therefore making this day a complete waste of my valuable time.” Revenant grumbled another curse, but did not argue with her analysis. She clicked her non-existent tongue at him.

“Let’s not forget, you came to me. If you are going to behave this way… consider the agreement, null.”

“Tch’, fine.” He said, lifting himself up.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“…. I need the damn practice.” He muttered, rubbing his sore middle. Ash glanced at him. She knew he had experience being a mercenary, but even professionals would lose their talent without discipline. Ash was the only one who can keep up with his agility and strength. She only accepted to be his sparring partner because she also needed someone to keep up with her.

“Then we shall begin again in the morning.” She said and turned back to face him. “But know this, try to kill me again, and I will not hesitate to use my sword next time.”

“Fine. I won’t try to kill you.” He said, shrugging his shoulders, and lifted up one hand. “I promise.” His words laced with poisonous lies. She knew better not to believe him. If given the opportunity, he would do it again. She refuse to give him the opportunity.

“Keep my warning in your thoughts.”

She continued her walk through the water making her way towards their trident. Revenant followed silently behind, both of them sloshing through the salt water. The cenote offered them privacy and no distractions. It was a part of Storm Point that most of the legends hardly ever trekked. She climbed up a rocky incline with ease reaching to the top, catching a glimpse of their parked trident. She turned back to Revenant, who took his time. His body slighty bent over and a hand to his side, the injury giving him constant reminders of his malicious intent. Even without a mouth, Ash felt herself smile.

“You are acting your age.” She teased, causing him to look up at her.

“Shut up.” He snapped, putting his hand down. “Get in the damn car and wait for me.” He said and took a step up on the incline. She watched him suddenly stop, and buckle over. She lifted a hand over her porcelain mouth, stifling a laugh. Revenant growled. “Get in the damn car, Ash!”

Ash sat down and waited for him. Much to his annoyance, and watched with great pleasure see him struggle up the wet rocks.

#apex #revenant #ash #ashleigh reid #apex legends #fanfiction #mirage #wraith #31 days of apex

[ryvenarts]

They're bouncing ideas off oneanother :)

#apex legends #apex #fanart #pathfinder #horizon #art #this was made for the 31 days of the outlands #mostly just me and ashton sitting in the lobby screen for hours just talking oops

[fatehbaz]

Nepali researchers have yet again photographed a snow leopard (Panthera uncia) and common leopard (P. pardus) in the same location in the lap of Mount Gaurishankar in the eastern Himalayas. The recently analyzed images captured in Lapchi Valley at an altitude of 4,260 meters (13,976 feet) above sea level show a snow leopard strolling a human trail [...] on Jan. 4, 2023. A common leopard was photographed by the same camera trap seven days later. “This is the first time that a snow leopard and a common leopard have been photographed in the same location in the Gaurishankar area,” says Madhu Chetri from the National Trust for Nature Conservation, [...] overseeing the Gaurishankar Conservation Area. Conservationists traditionally considered endangered tigers (P. tigris) as the apex predators of Nepal’s southern plains, vulnerable common leopards as roaming the country’s hills, and vulnerable snow leopards as keeping farther north in the mountains. [...] In July 2016, researchers studying [...] [the] Tibetan Plateau for the first time obtained video footage of a snow leopard and a common leopard living in the same area. Similarly, in 2013, a team of Italian researchers analyzing scat samples from Sagarmatha (Mount Everest) National Park also found that snow leopards and common leopards coexist in the same area. [...] Researcher Bikram Shrestha, who has worked on snow leopards, says his team also captured images of both cats in the same area in a survey carried out between 2011 and 2013 in Nepal’s Mustang region at an altitude of 4,500 m (14,764 ft).

---

Images and text excerpt from: Abhaya Raj Joshi. "Nepali researchers again photograph snow leopard, leopard in same place". Mongabay. 31 August 2023. [Images provided to Mongabay by Madhu Chetri, National Trust for Nature Conservation, Gaurishankar Conservation Area.]

[alienpossession]

So I recently connected with some other authors here and read some alien-based stories that inspired me. This is a one-off from a series called Check-Up by @fullfriendnerdpurse hopefully I do your series justice

Check Up: Eric

A young and nerdy scientist worked on side by side to let powerful men around his own proximity and even the whole world fell victim to the control of a crash-landed small batch of extraterrestrial civilization. His lustful desire to the idea of having the apex of human civilization succumbed to the control of him and his invader buddies blinded him. He's sick and tired with the way society treated him and constantly paid attention to the type of men that pushed people around with their powerful influencer or their good looks and muscle. One of them is named Eric

The alien shoved into him clearly enjoyed the otherworldly senses it instantly felt upon controlling Eric's muscle tank body. The testosterone that coursed through his physical system, the complexity of his muscle and organ that far exceeded the complexity of the slimy being, the way his whole body emitted this powerful aroma and pheromone, the alien just knows it acquired a very fine specimen in human standard

A gym junkie with a day job as premium real estate agent, Eric is also a fine stepping stones to access an even richer and more douchebag section of the society. He's been proven useful as he managed to work alongside the nerd to acquire more bodies for the alien as he lured in the interested property buyer into the property where the nerd already waited with a scoop of slimy alien ready to be shoved up into these rich people's orifices

The alien inside Eric also love to tap into Eric's hidden submissiveness. While the real Eric might not be too keen to tap into his more vulnerable side, the alien love to exploit it because Eric's body just responded to it very well with the hardening cock that leaked pre which the alien always enjoyed to experience. So sometimes, after a day where he helped the nerd acquire another bodies, the alien would make Eric said things like

"Look at you buff dumb bull. After fucking up your own marriage to serve small puddle of slime, now you fucked up another family! Because of you, the 27th richest man in America and his 31 years old son controlled by alien now and you are fucking hard because of it! You stupid little slut, a body so big but there's nothing inside of it,"

The alien also remain amazed with its vessel's physique even after months living as him. Either through his social media activity that the nerd watched or when they have video call, it is one of the vessel that is having the most fun utilizing its vessel as it makes Eric more on the playful side rather than arrogant.

During his latest check-up after the video call from the previous week, he welcomed the nerd while doing workout in his garage. He's shirtless and only using a pretty colorful socks (something the alien also love to add to Eric's monochromatic attire set) paired with a tight compression that hid nothing to the imagination.

After doing some more rep of his workout while updating the nerd with info about his activity for the past 1 month, they walked in and the nerd then watched him cleaned up after himself for the check up. He skipped showering for most of the time unless he really need to such as meeting prospective buyer, so the idea of clean up is simply him changing clothes.

Being the playful slime that it is, it started teasing the nerdy scientist as Eric suddenly started jiggling his own ass in the tight short shorts and folded himself to present his ass to the nerd with its vial

"Please, it's been a while. I'll shoot my load if you just pressed that tip in, nerd. Just do it,"

The nerd just smirked, the perks of being the number one ally for a cooperative alien civilization really becomes the number one reason why he's constantly in search for more vessel to acquire, and with the way that the slime multiplies, it seems like there's no stopping soon

#alien possession #male possession #alien expansion #check up

[symply-sym]

I'm currently throwing some of my twitter art onto BlueSky and I think some of that I haven't shared here yet either. So have this thing I originally made this for the 31 Days of Apex challenge. Never tagged it as that cause the devs checked in on that so much that i got anxious. Yet the support was so beautiful and a few devs found it anyway and also left some nice words, it really healed my soul oh also, any new art will be glazed. that's just the future we live in now i guess

#apex legends #revenant #pathfinder #revfinder #my art #robot #robots

[ptanalo]

remember when I dedicated 31 days of apex to rampart apex legends lol

#my art #valkpart #rampyrie #rampart #ramya parekh #wattson #natalie paquette #lifeline #ajay che #fuse #walter fitzroy #gibraltar #makao gibraltar #bangalore #anita williams #mirage #elliott witt #valkyrie #kairi imahara #wraith #renee blasey

[catkyunie]

The Flicker of A Flame ♡

Happy Mingi Month Day 2 of 31 ✧˖°.

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: After passing away in a fatal accident, your ghost lingers. Watching as Mingi falls apart at the seams, you do everything you can to try and reconnect and help your beloved remember what it means to live. 

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: song mingi x fem!reader

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: a whole bunch of angst 

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): car accident, ghost reader, reader death, established relationship, anxiety, depression, grief, alcohol consumption (if I missed any please let me know!)

𝚠𝚌: 4.1k

What surprised you the most about dying was how weightless you felt. That's the thing with death; no one can ever really know what to expect when that moment happens because no one ever truly returns. This wasn’t a case of seeing any light at the end of a tunnel or having a reel of your entire life play out for you in a moment that seemed to last an eternity. This was instantaneous. One moment you were alive, breathing, anchored down by the weight of Mingi’s hand on your thigh. The next, you were gone, snuffed out as quickly as a candle flame. In a blink, you went from basking in the warm afterglow of an evening with your beloved to the incredible expanse of space that left you levitating in what felt like the deepest pool of water with no beginning or end. There was no pain or clear memory of what had happened. Flashes of light quickly played behind your vision, and you could hear the scrape of metal on metal. And then, with another blink, you were standing in the middle of an intersection. 

An accident had left both cars mangled and fusing into an amalgamation of twisted and gnarled steel. Pedestrians had begun to gather on either side of the street, some vehicles stopping to assess the damage, far-off voices calling out to anyone who may have survived. In the distance, you could hear the wail of sirens as they closed in on the scene. Try as you might to peel your eyes away from the tragedy, despite the confusion and terror that seeped into your bones and rooted itself at the base of your spine, a detail kept you transfixed. The car that had received the brunt of the impact was the same make, model, and color as…

That’s when you heard it. What played the most clearly for you, like the chime of a bell down an empty hall, was Mingi’s scream. It rang and reverberated in your bones, penetrating your very spirit. You had never heard that sound come from him. And the only thing he repeatedly howled into the apex of the fused vehicles was your name. Over and over and over, he called for you, each iteration of your name becoming more desperate and helpless than the last. Finally, you peeled your eyes from the accident scene and looked down into the palms of your hands. The appendages felt alien to you as you watched the way they trembled like leaves in the wind, here yet not entirely. You knew with certainty that they were your hands as you turned them over, your eyes landing on and fixing themselves to the ring that adorned your left hand. That’s right. You and Mingi had been on your way home after a team dinner, which he had orchestrated under the guise of business to assemble your closest friends and members to ask you to be his bride. 

No. No, no, this couldn’t be right. This had to be a dream. There was no way. You felt your body begin to move before you were even sure of where it was going, your voice passing through your lips like a whisper. You were stumbling your way to Mingi, his wails of panic still just as gut-wrenching and blood-curdling. He was being pulled from the wreckage as you approached, the firemen trying their best to calm your partner’s panic while also attempting to restrain him, informing him that the more he fought them, the more he could exacerbate his injuries or even spring new ones. But Mingi was in blind hysteria, his eyes never leaving the passenger seat, a mixture of blood and fresh, hot tears contorting and twisting his face into the very definition of pain. 

“Mingki, jagi, please, I’m right here! Look, I’m fine!” you babbled, in desperate spurts, your hands reaching for him. 

You needed him to see, to understand. It was a dream. He had to wake up. Stepping to his side, then, you made the mistake of following the line of his vision and was greeted with the source of the mania he had become so lost in. In a mess of flesh and steel, your head lulled over on one shoulder, eyes sparkling with tears and happiness only an hour before, now lifeless and cold. While the scene itself wasn’t necessarily gruesome, it was the hollow expression that colored your features, the pale stretch of skin over your cheeks that were usually so vibrant and brightly colored, that genuinely sealed your fate. This wasn’t a dream. This was very much real. There, in that intersection, somewhere on the streets of Seoul, you had died. And so did Mingi. 

____________________________________________________________

The first two weeks were the hardest. Having Mingi within arms reach, extending a hand and running your knuckles over his, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his muscled back, and feeling his heartbeat, yet knowing he could feel none of it. The methods in which your physical touch had comforted him prior were now doing nothing. It left you feeling hopeless. There had been a few instances where he would respond to your touch, a subtle turn of the head, or a questioning gaze that lingered too long on your general direction to be a coincidence. But, each time you felt your chest blossom with the silent wish that you had made that connection, he’d simply turn away from you and fall back into his stupor.

That was the hardest. Death, in comparison, had been like the dream you had so desperately wished it to be. The death of drive, motivation, and will of your partner made it real. Seeing how he sunk in on himself and became a shell of the man you envisioned spending your life with hurt the most. Immediately following your death and with the guidance of his manager, Hongjoong, Mingi went on an indefinite leave of absence from their company. The only time he ever left the house was when he was left with scraps of food, and even then, that was only after his team members and best friends had stopped frequenting your home with delivery and takeout. At least once a week, someone from the team would come by to check on him, usually either Yunho or San, and sit with him. Words were rarely ever exchanged. It was mostly extended periods of silence with the occasional break in the form of your friends commenting on their current business proposals or the change in weather. Only once had they made the unforeseen mistake of mentioning you. 

It was a few weeks following the accident. San and Wooyoung had both visited, bringing over beer and soju. It was the first time that Mingi had done more than sit idly on the sofa, tea going cold in his hands as he stared at his reflection in the strained liquid. He was engaging, albeit quietly, and had said more than hello and goodbye. As the night continued, with more booze being introduced into everyone’s system, Wooyoung had chosen to break the silence with a thought. 

“You guys remember that one night we had taken y/n out for her promotion within the company?” he mused, eyes transfixed on the last sip of alcohol that he swished lazily at the bottom of his glass. San’s eyes immediately shifted to Wooyoung, observing him and listening closely as the younger of the two continued. “She had maybe two drinks and was already flushed and giggling at every stupid joke we told. Even the bad ones.” 

“Woo…” San spoke cautiously, his gaze now jumping between the two men seated on either side of him. 

“Even you don’t get drunk that quickly, Sannie.” Wooyoung laughed, throwing his drink back and finishing it with a quick gulp. “I’m convinced she played all of us for a fool at the team dinners and took water shots instead of soju.” 

San reached around Wooyoung then, feeling the tension as it began building in the room, his hand finding and pulling the bottle of booze away from Woo’s reach.

“Alright, buddy, I think you might have had enough–”

“You remember, don’t you, hyung?” Wooyoung said quietly.

A beat of silence permeated the room before he continued, eyes glassed over and lost in a memory. “She clung to every word we said. You could’ve told her you hung the moon, and she’d have believed you.” He turned his attention to Mingi, who had gone quiet, head lulled forward and lost at the bottom of his glass. “Then again, y/n didn’t need to be tipsy to believe that. She loved us fiercely, even when I felt we didn’t deserve it.” You had watched from Mingi’s side, your hands clinging desperately to his own, tears stinging your eyes and threatening to spill forward. What Woo said next, though, caused the thread to snap. 

“But that was nothing compared to how much she loved you, Mingki.” 

Slowly, Mingi set his drink down on the table and rose from his seated position on the floor. With a stiff bow, he thanked San and Wooyoung for the company and drinks and exited the main room. Sidestepping into your bedroom, he slammed the door behind him with enough force to shake the picture frames hanging along the walls. Without a word, San gathered up Wooyoung, whose cheeks were now stained with tears, and they saw their way out. You followed closely behind them, choking on your sob, wanting so desperately for them to understand how much their friendship had meant to you, how much it still meant to you. The exchange between them as they put on their shoes and shuffled out of the door stopped you dead in your tracks.  

“I’m sorry, Sannie. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know, jagiya.” 

“I miss him. I miss her. It feels like we’re mourning both of them.” 

As San helped Wooyoung with his shoe ties, he thought carefully about his following words before speaking them out into the space between them. “That’s because we are, Woo.” 

Mingi stopped accepting visitors shortly after that. 

____________________________________________________________

The weeks had bled into months, the seasons changing and soon sweeping out the hot weather and introducing the cold. And with the warmer days went your confidence that you’d ever be able to bridge that invisible limbo between you and Mingi. Every night you had curled up beside him, holding him as best as your phantom limbs would allow, clinging to him and the life eddying out of him increasingly with each passing day. Admittedly, some days were better than others, especially when he resumed working with Hongjoong and the team. Any mention of you or your time with them was left strictly to quiet conversations amongst the men, clear of earshot from Mingi, which seemed to serve him just fine. He was falling back into his routine, pouring most of his time into his continued work and finding ways to keep himself busy when he didn’t have a project he was overseeing. He had started to spend more and more of his free time with the guys, once again opting into team dinners and evenings spent at someone’s home with drinks and games. But, despite the leaps and strides he made to appear as ‘normal’ and put together as he could, there were still times that the mask would falter, and he’d find himself breaking down and coming apart at the seams. It could be something as small as the smell of a woman’s perfume that he passed on the sidewalk, the brand reminiscent of the scent you favored, or the sound of a voice across the restaurant close enough to your timbre to have him snapping his neck with expectancy. While everyone noted and played into the charade that Mingi had painted for himself, every one of you knew that, eventually, the facade wouldn’t be enough to keep him together. He still refused to talk about the accident, let alone mention your name. And every night, once the quiet had settled over him and he was left alone with an empty apartment and his thoughts, he would still cry himself to sleep, clinging to the pillow that had long lost your scent. But, unbeknownst to you, and even Mingi, the falling of the year’s first snow would bring the pivotal turning point in his story. 

It was late October, a week before Halloween, and the members had decided to celebrate the end of another work week with drinks and budae jjigae at Hongjoong’s apartment. Mingi had been tasked with collecting the ingredients needed for the hotpot, as he would be the first one leaving the office for the evening. Begrudgingly, he had agreed and bundled up accordingly before grabbing his suitcase, and the scribbled list Wooyoung had put together. The walk from the office to the supermarket was relatively short, but the time he would spend collecting the food needed for the evening would give the others time to reconvene at Joong’s place. 

It was as typical an afternoon as any. Your new normal had consisted of following closely behind Mingi, amiably existing in his space as he went about his day-to-day tasks. You had long given up on the idea of him ever being able to see or feel you and, in doing so, had allowed yourself to be content with the opportunity to simply be an apparition that tagged along and watched over him. Stepping into the market with a quick bow to the attendant at the door, you walked beside him, arm crossed delicately around his, as he began pursuing the shelves and filling the small basket he had acquired. It wasn’t long before Mingi wandered into the produce aisle, bent at the waist and closely inspecting the quality and prices of the enoki and king oyster mushrooms they would need for the hotpot. As he did so, you looked around at the sea of people as they shopped. While most wore masks and weren’t necessarily decipherable from one face to the next, one woman, in particular, had caught your eye. Her stature was similar to yours, and she wore her hair long and down, bangs curtaining her face in a way that you found lovely. Absently, you reached up to your bangs and quickly fixed them, though you knew it would matter to no one but you. It wasn’t until she turned towards you and Mingi that you felt your heart drop to your feet, your fingers midstroke across your forehead. Mingi had corrected his spine then and had turned to face out into the store, and his eyes still focused on the pack of mushrooms he had selected when a quiet voice called out timidly, “Song Mingi?” 

Instantly, his head whipped up in response to his name, and it was at that moment that you knew he had recognized the young woman that stood before you. A shy smile played at the corners of her mouth as she bent forward in respect, her hands gripping the basket she held between her fingers tightly. As she corrected herself, a quick flick of her chin caused her hair to fall away from her face as she said affably, “It’s been a long time.” 

You could only watch in awe as Mingi bent at the waist and returned the bow, the tremor in his hand not passing your detection. Nodding as he stood straight, he quickly threw the pack of Enoki into his basket before responding with a clear throat, “Yes, it has. How, uh…how have you been? Are Omma and Appa doing well?”

“I’ve been well, thank you. And yes, they’re in good health. They’ve already started preparing for Christmas if you can believe that.”

With a chuckle, Mingi replied,” That doesn’t surprise me.”

There was a pause of awkward silence that filled the space before the young woman dared to take a step forward, her dark eyes cautious as she continued. “Have you been well?”

With a quick shrug of the shoulders, Mingi pulled his attention away from the woman and began scouring the shoppers. You could sense from his body language and the way his eyes darted that he was looking for an out, for any excuse to escape and avoid this conversation. 

“As well as I can be,” he said simply. 

“I see. And the members?”

“They’re in good health.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

You could feel the tension as it teetered on the edge, knowing and anticipating where the conversation led. He couldn’t run from it. Not this time. 

“We’ve been trying to get in touch with you. With the holidays approaching, we wanted to extend an invitation for when we visit y/n’s gravesite.” 

And there it was, the shoe you had been waiting to drop. You watched as Mingi swallowed down the anxiety you knew had been bubbling and building in his chest. It was one thing to avoid and sidestep conversations with the members and their shared friends. It was another to evade your older sister. 

Bringing a trembling hand to the back of his neck, Mingi averted his eyes and chose instead to take a particular interest in his shoes, doing whatever he could to avoid the kind gaze of your sister. “My apologies, Noona. It’s not long since I’ve returned to the office, and Hongjoong hasn’t given me any real room to breathe with the projects we have coming up.”

A nod in understanding, followed by,” I understand. It must be challenging to balance everything now with what you’ve been through.”  

“Yes…it has been.” 

Another beat of silence passed between them before your sister’s shuffling drew your attention away from Mingi. You watched the bag over her shoulder as your sister retrieved a small tea candle pack and extended it to your partner. 

“Omma poured these for us to burn for y/n over the holidays. She had poured you a set, as well. Take these, in case you aren’t able to make it.”

Pulling his eyes from the ground and finally meeting the sympathetic gaze of your sibling, Mingi’s brown eyes flitted to the pack of hand-poured candles she held outstretched to him. You stood with bated breath, your hands tangling in and fisting the cardigan that hung loosely at your sides. You knew the weight those small tea candles held for you and Mingi. Accepting this kindness would mean accepting what had happened. It would squarely place him face to face with the reality that he had spent these months so desperately trying to escape, even though it followed him in every aspect of his life. The reality that you weren’t coming home. That this would be his first Christmas without you. You weren’t there to comfort him after a hard day at work or on the nights when his anxiety had reached a particularly cataclysmic point. You weren’t there to join him and his brothers for nights of drinking and reminiscing, to laugh at their poorly times jokes. He could no longer outrun a past that included you. He had to face the present and accept that he had had a life with you. And that that chapter had ended. 

Reaching forward, Mingi took hold of those small candles and finally allowed the tears to break the well that had been collecting. He didn’t try to swipe them away or hide his vulnerability or pain at that moment. In the middle of that grocery store, face to face with the young woman that so closely resembled you, he accepted her kindness and allowed himself to feel the heaviness of it. Clutching the candles tightly to his chest, Mingi bent at the waist in a deep bow.

“Thank you, Noona…” 

___________________________________________________________

Mingi didn’t utter a word of his meeting with your sister to the boys as they progressed with their evening. As usual, he went about their time together, enjoying drinks and laughs with everyone as they gathered around the table to enjoy their dinner. There was a palpable difference in how his body moved, his limbs looser and his laugh more vibrant than they had remembered hearing it in recent weeks. None of them commented on the change, though, and reveled in the refreshed version of their brother that they had been blessed with. As the evening drug on, Yeosang and San stared out over the glittering lights of Seoul while the others took their respective turns on whatever game they had loaded up. It was then that the oldest of the two stepped forward and pulled open the sliding door of the balcony, Yeosang’s voice light as he exclaimed,” Looks like we get snow early this year.” 

At the mention of snowfall, heads flicked over to the pair, Jongho and Yunho abandoning their places on the floor to join San and Yeosong out on the balcony. Eventually, all but Hongjoong and Mingi had assembled on the deck and sipped from their drinks, taking in the sight and simply choosing to exist in the moment. Your head rested easily against Mingi’s shoulder as you watched on, a content smile playing at the corners of your mouth when you heard Hongjoong speak from your partner’s other side. 

“Maybe this is a sign of good fortune to come.”

Mingi was quiet as he looked on and simply nodded in agreement as he watched his brothers sling arms over one another, Wooyoung sticking his tongue out to attempt to catch a snowflake or two. You felt him shift beneath you shortly after that, adjusting your body into a seated position as you watched him reach around the table for his bag. Digging into the depths of it, your breath caught as he pulled forward your mother’s tea candles. Joong watched him now, not daring to speak as Mingi turned the packed candles over in his hands a few times, contemplating them. Standing then and stepping into the kitchen, Hongjoong returned with a small pack of matches and an extra glass and set them softly on the coffee table. It was an offering he would not push his brother to take but one he felt the need to extend.

After another beat, Mingi carefully peeled the plastic away from the first candle and set it on the table. Reaching for the box of matches, he quickly struck the wooden stick against the side of the box and watched as the fire licked to life and cast shadows over the planes of his face. By this point, everyone had turned their attention to the young man, the excitement of the snow paling compared to what they were witnessing. Carefully, Mingi navigated the tiny flame to the wick of the candle and waited for it to catch fire before pulling it away and flicking his wrist to extinguish it. He reached for the open bottle of soju to his right, pouring a shot into the empty glass and waiting. A moment of reflection, you realized, as all eight men watched that tiny flame dance along the candle's surface, the booze in the glass catching and refracting light back as it glittered over the table. 

To your surprise, Mingi was the first to break his silence as he lifted his glass in a toast, the lining of his eyes burning with a molten shimmer as he breathed the words you had silently wished for. 

“To y/n.”

“To y/n,” they all parroted in quiet unison, tipping their glasses back and finishing their drinks. 

The remainder of the evening felt like it had been pulled directly from your memories. Direct references to times you drank together, each of them taking their time to laugh, cry, and remember the bonds you had forged with each of them individually. You realized then, as you found yourself lost in the sounds of their friendship, your eyes only leaving that tiny flicker of a flame to gaze at the face of your beloved contentedly, that it wasn’t up to you to reconnect with your betrothed or even the brothers that sat around him. The connection had never been severed. It had simply been tangled along the way. Their patience and guidance and a single act of genuine kindness are what it took for him to find his way again. Finding himself at a crossroads and choosing to walk the path you had forged together, even if it now meant having to traverse it alone. As you leaned into Mingi’s side again, the flicker from the candle dancing behind the deep color of your eyes, you silently agreed with the sentiment Hongjoong had stated before. This was a sign of good fortune and much more fortune to come.

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: Hello everyone! Day 2 has defintely taken a deatour from the fluff I introduced in Day 1 but I am very pleased with the structure and how this one-shot came together. I hope you enjoy and I’ll see you tomorrow with more fluff and happy Mingki! this particular fic has not been proofread✧˖°.

#song mingi x reader #song mingi x y/n #song mingi #song mingi one shot #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #song mingi angst #mingi angst #paige writes #ateez #ateez fic #ateez one shot #mingi one shot #mingi #happy mingi month #catkyunie fic

[audhdgoku]

Hi My Name Is Jasper Nightlynx, And I’m An Arctic Fox Irl [Therian!! ΘΔ]. I’m Fictionkin With Several Characters, Please See My Kin Page!. I’m Also A 31 Year Old Trans [FTM] Non-Binary Genderfluid Dude [Pronouns Are He/Him, They/Them, Kit/Kits], And A Gross Ass Furry. I’m Ace/Bi, Specifically Autochorissexual! My Jung Type Is INFP, And My Temperament Is Phlegmatic. I Really Love Foxes I AM A Real Life Fox, And Tag All Foxes As ‘Me’. Most Pictures Of My Character Kins Will Be Tagged As ‘Selfie’. - If Any Artist Is Uncomfortable With Me Doing This With Their Art Of The Character, Please Let Me Know And I'll Remove The Tag.

I Have Over 400+ Hours On Cole Cassidy And I’m Suffering Rip Overwatch, You Were Decent While You Lasted Lmao

I Also Have 4500 5000+ Hours On Skyrim Cause It’s My Favorite Game And I’m Dumb

If U Wanna See My Gay Fursona’s Tag, Click Here lol 

[And Don’t Worry, I Make Sure I Tag Everything With Proper Warnings!] 

Usual DNI Criteria; No Terfs/Radfems, Fascists, Racist, LGBTQ+phobes, Zoophiles, Pedophiles [INCLUDING Maps And Whatever Else You Lot Call Yourselves These Days], P*wdiepie Supporters, Dream Stans, HP Fans [Fr Read a Different Book] And PLEASE No Minors!!! MINORS BLOCKED ON SIGHT.

Stay Cool, Drink Water, Be Gay, Do Crime

———————————————————————–

Current Front: Goku 🥕 / Vegito 🍬

I Have A Vegito Kin Blog Here! [Warning For Eye Strain/Flashing Lights/Trauma Posting]

And A Kurama Kin Blog Here! [Warning For Potential Blood /Trauma Posting]

List Of Illnesses And Disabilities:

Multiple Sclerosis [Physically Disabled, RRMS Meaning Its Only Getting Worse!!!!]

Depression

Anxiety 

Dyscalculia

AuDHD

I Also Might Have A Speech Problem. I Tend To Trip Over My Words A Lot And I Need To Reread Sentences [Aloud And In My Head] For Me To Say It Right 

I Have Bad Memory, And I’m Not Entirely Sure If That’s Because Of My MS, Or Mental Illness, But I Don’t Catch On To Things Easily And Tend To Forget Things A Lot lol

I AM Currently Working To Try And Get Disability, But The US Health System Is Dogshit And It Takes Forever <3 Lmao

IF You Are Feeling Charitable, I Can Be Do.nated To Directly Here [No Pressure, And Only If You Are In A Good Spot To Do So, Of Course <3]

———————————————————————–

I Can Be Reached In These Places!:

Bnet: TransCassidy#1457

Apex/Origin: TransgendrOctane

Discord: @JasperNightlynx

Steam

#Fox Rambles #About Me #Flashing #Ask To Tag #Prob Gonna Reblog This A Few Times FYI

[the-chronicle-of-holy-days]

Day 13

Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli

V

1. O my beautiful God! I swim in Thy heart like a trout in the mountain torrent.

2. I leap from pool to pool in my joy; I am goodly with brown and gold and silver.

3. Why, I am lovelier than the russet autumn woods at the first snowfall.

4. And the crystal cave of my thought is lovelier than I.

5. Only one fish-hook can draw me out; it is a woman kneeling by the bank of the stream. It is she that pours the bright dew over herself, and into the sand so that the river gushes forth.

6. There is a bird on yonder myrtle; only the song of that bird can draw me out of the pool of Thy heart, O my God!

7. Who is this Neapolitan boy that laughs in his happiness? His lover is the mighty crater of the Mountain of Fire. I saw his charred limbs borne down the slopes in a stealthy tongue of liquid stone.

8. And Oh! the chirp of the cicada!

9. I remember the days when I was cacique in Mexico.

10. O my God, wast Thou then as now my beautiful lover?

11. Was my boyhood then as now Thy toy, Thy joy?

12. Verily, I remember those iron days.

13. I remember how we drenched the bitter lakes with our torrent of gold; how we sank the treasurable image in the crater of Citlaltepetl.

14. How the good flame lifted us even unto the lowlands, setting us down in the impenetrable forest.

15. Yea, Thou wast a strange scarlet bird with a bill of gold. I was Thy mate in the forests of the lowland; and ever we heard from afar the shrill chant of mutilated priests and the insane clamour of the Sacrifice of Maidens.

16. There was a weird winged God that told us of his wisdom.

17. We attained to be starry grains of gold dust in the sands of a slow river.

18. Yea, and that river was the river of space and time also.

19. We parted thence; ever to the smaller, ever to the greater, until now, O sweet God, we are ourselves, the same.

20. O God of mine, Thou art like a little white goat with lightning in his horns!

21. I love Thee, I love Thee.

22. Every breath, every word, every thought, every deed is an act of love with Thee.

23. The beat of my heart is the pendulum of love.

24. The songs of me are the soft sighs:

25. The thoughts of me are very rapture:

26. And my deeds are the myriads of Thy children, the stars and the atoms.

27. Let there be nothing!

28. Let all things drop into this ocean of love!

29. Be this devotion a potent spell to exorcise the demons of the Five!

30. Ah God, all is gone! Thou dost consummate Thy rapture. Falútli! Falútli!

31. There is a solemnity of the silence. There is no more voice at all.

32. So shall it be unto the end. We who were dust shall never fall away into the dust.

33. So shall it be.

34. Then, O my God, the breath of the Garden of Spices. All these have a savour averse.

35. The cone is cut with an infinite ray; the curve of hyperbolic life springs into being.

36. Farther and farther we float; yet we are still. It is the chain of systems that is falling away from us.

37. First falls the silly world; the world of the old grey land.

38. Falls it unthinkably far, with its sorrowful bearded face presiding over it; it fades to silence and woe.

39. We to silence and bliss, and the face is the laughing face of Eros.

40. Smiling we greet him with the secret signs.

41. He leads us into the Inverted Palace.

42. There is the Heart of Blood, a pyramid reaching its apex down beyond the Wrong of the Beginning.

43. Bury me unto Thy Glory, O beloved, O princely lover of this harlot maiden, within the Secretest Chamber of the Palace!

44. It is done quickly; yea, the seal is set upon the vault.

45. There is one that shall avail to open it.

46. Nor by memory, nor by imagination, nor by prayer, nor by fasting, nor by scourging, nor by drugs, nor by ritual, nor by meditation; only by passive love shall he avail.

47. He shall await the sword of the Beloved and bare his throat for the stroke.

48. Then shall his blood leap out and write me runes in the sky; yea, write me runes in the sky.

This day is for my Cult ❤️❤️❤️ years favorite is in bold.

Artwork from https://www.lisasterle.com/mwt

#thelema #thelemic holy season #argentum astrum #holy days #silver star #tarot #the hermit

[mariacallous]

From Tumblr to Gawker, the sites and voices that defined the 2010s are gone or changed. There is no happy ending to this story.

The millennial internet first died in 2015.

I remember the day exactly because I was one of seven staffers, in addition to many more permalancers, at Gawker Media who were laid off as part of a company-wide restructuring. I received a message on Slack, was asked to join a meeting in a nearby conference room, told that today, November 17, was my last day working for Gawker, and by the time I returned to my desk all of my accounts were disabled. For the company to “optimize and sharpen all the sites going forward,” executive editor John Cook explained in a memo—sites that also included Jezebel, Deadspin, Lifehacker, and Gizmodo—“shifting personnel” was necessary.

In truth, I’d lasted much longer than I ever expected to. In my 18 months as a senior editor, I commissioned more than 150 stories and published young writers like Vann Newkirk II, P. E. Moskowitz, Donovan X. Ramsey, and Josie Duffy. When people ask me what it was like to work at Gawker, notorious for its sometimes unrealistic traffic demands on staffers, my answer is always the same: “I had no road map. I threw things at the wall to see what stuck.”

My directive was to help expand the voice of the site, so I intentionally cast a wide net. I tasked writers—people like me who never once considered that their work could be published on Gawker—to report on topics ranging from the rise of suburban poverty and the shady business of secondary policing to workplace racism, gentrification, interracial dating, and the joys of eating ass.

Gawker, like every other media company trying to survive this next internet evolution, was chasing virality. Good stories mattered, but numbers mattered just as much. The popularity of the stories I commissioned was never an exact science. Some did exceedingly well for obvious reasons—“Tinder Is Full of Robot Prostitutes” (198,000 visitors); “What Serial Gets Wrong” (296,000); “Why I Pee Sitting Down” (110,000)—while other stories bombed for reasons I still can’t make sense of.

But there was no sense to be made of the moment we found ourselves in. The internet was undergoing a rare metamorphosis. Facebook, Twitter, and the introduction of social media had completely reengineered business models. Everything, as Nicholas Carr has suggested about the pinballing effect of social media, was being uprooted. “Radically biased toward space and against time, social media is inherently destabilizing,” he wrote in 2018. “What it teaches us, through its whirlwind of fleeting messages, is that nothing lasts. Everything is disposable. Novelty rules.”

BuzzFeed knew a thing or two about novelty. It was also trying to understand how to seize the attention of a mass audience. Unlike Gawker or HuffPost, BuzzFeed took a much more wholesale approach to gaming traffic. Steered by CEO Jonah Peretti, it implemented a medley of quizzes, Twitter recaps, listicles, news stories, and long-form investigations as its bread and butter. For a time, BuzzFeed was the apex of internet production. Remember the dress? Elsewhere, sites like The Awl and The Hairpin platformed newbie writers—Lauren Michele Jackson, Vinson Cunningham, Bryan Washington—with a renegade interest in pop culture. Before I had the great fortune of working with him at Gawker, I obsessively read Tom Scocca’s weather reviews with a mix of anticipation and private glee.

The second time the millennial internet died, when The Awl shut its doors for good on January 31, 2018, I remember thinking how Scocca had captured the sentiment of the millennial web and the era it birthed perfectly: “Every fugitive bit of light might be the last one.” Because that’s how it felt to create, work, and waste time on the internet of the 2010s. It was one big secret that all of us were in on, having fun as we remade digital media in a way that felt true to us, never knowing if tomorrow the light we illuminated with the stories we blogged would be the last.

I was able to make a home and a career on the internet because sites like Grantland, Okayplayer, and Jezebel gave me license as a writer and thinker. They validated my weirdness as much as they challenged my ways of thinking around gender politics, movies, sports, and identity. Stumbling on responses by Greg Tate in the Okayplayer message boards was its own masterclass in music and political theory. Before that, blogs like Crunk & Disorderly, The Cynical Ones, and FreeDarko showed me how sweeping this territory we called the internet was. They were proof that a single voice could take up space in a unique and original tone.

My internet, the millennial internet, was a province of play and possibility. Of course, it’s mostly all gone now. The trend toward consolidation is near complete. There is no happy ending to this story. Journalists, editors, and media makers of all sorts are losing jobs. This year seemed especially cruel to those of us who make a living in this fickle industry. Independent media is a dwindling business model, a fate ominously true for niche publications with an outsider’s eye.

The millennial internet died, perhaps for the final time, in April, when BuzzFeed News closed shop. A week later, Traffic—a book by former editor-in-chief Ben Smith, about the mad dash to reinvent digital media during this specific period—was published to enthusiastic reviews, its release bookmarking the end to a decade colored by omnivorous virality. By late fall, Vice downsized, Okayplayer fired its entire editorial staff, pivoting to god knows what, and Jezebel, the pioneering feminist site, was forced to shut down. (It was acquired by Paste in late November, saving it from an early death.) According to a recent employment analysis, the news media sector lost more jobs this year than it did across 2022 and 2021 combined.

The 2010s serendipitously coincided with the mainstreaming of social media. Tumblr, Twitter, and Vine broadened the reach of communication, amplifying a generation of voices that otherwise would have gone unheard. These platforms were the engine of creativity before everything was pimped out and recast as sponsored content. That’s all changed. This year, Tumblr announced plans to significantly curb its operations. Under the ownership of Elon Musk, Twitter, rebranded as X, has decayed into a petri dish of misinformation and harassment, inciting an exodus from the platform. As for Vine, which discontinued in 2017, TikTok has taken its place though it hasn’t quite replicated its hypnotic charm.

You’re probably wondering how we got here. How all of this happened. Don’t. It’s a fool’s errand in a time of spectacular fools, crooks, and private equity monsters. My internet is dying. It’s been dying for some time. Everything I knew about it will soon vanish, its histories regurgitated via 30-second TikTok videos shared in group chats, eulogized annually in the cocoon of darkened movie theaters, where tickets run $30.

The contours of the digital era are receding. So much of what I loved is gone or changed, its parts sold for scraps. Why and how it had to be like this, I will never know. Greed and mismanagement seem too cheap an answer even though I know it is one of them.

What is also true is how new technologies jockey to replace old ones. It’s how the game works. Radio killed newspapers. TV killed radio. The internet killed them all. That’s how the narrative goes, anyway. Today, as text-based tech fades into the hipster denim of the 2010s, video and audio reign dominant. That is, until it’s time to pivot to the next shiny thing. We like what we like until we’re told to like something new.

Gawker shut down, for the second time, in February. When it happened, I was reminded of what John Cook wrote in his memo the day I got let go. Gawker was pivoting to politics with a mandate to “hump the campaign” (LOL). The plan failed, but not because of the writers and editors who stayed, or management’s course correction (though that was also a doomed enterprise). Hilary Clinton lost the election. Donald Trump won. Reality blurred into vulgar theater. Theater so vulgar and unbelievable we’re still reeling from it.

Before it was shot dead, in 2016, Gawker failed the way most digital media properties of the millennial internet failed: by trying to fathom, and build a business model around, something that is unfathomable—the way the internet works. Nick Denton, Gawker’s muckraking founder, couldn’t hack it. Neither could Jonah Peretti. In truth, no one can. Today I find solace in that atom of unpredictability. It’s the one lesson I’ve carried with me since that day.

None of us have it figured out. We never will. Onward.

[peridotglimmer]

Kinktober 2023 Masterpost

31 ficlets with 31 different ships

The full series can be found here!

Day 1: Collars - False/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | Decoration

Day 2: Clothed Sex - Diana/47 (Hitman) | Close Quarters

Day 3: Choking - Wyatt/Emma (Timeless) | Insufferable

Day 4: Desk Sex - Cameron/House (House M.D.) | By Reason of Insanity

Day 5: Bathing - Chloe/Nadine (Uncharted) | Reën in die Klein Karoo

Day 6: Pegging - Evil X/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | Repent

Day 7: Praise Kink - Evie/Élise (AC: Syndicate & AC: Unity) | Rules

Day 8: Lingerie - Bridget/Vera (Wentworth) | Coming Home to You

Day 9: Wall Sex - Beckett/Castle (Castle) | Blame It on the Hormones

Day 10: Coming Untouched - Pia Douwes/Uwe Kröger (Musical Theatre RPF) | Transition #1 [Note: written in German!]

Day 11: Breeding Kink - False/Pearl/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | When You Came In (The Air Went Out)

Day 12: Blow Jobs - Peyton/Blaine (iZombie) | Silence Is Golden

Day 13: Sixty-Nine - Loba/Valkyrie (Apex Legends) | Attention Management

Day 14: Ropes - Mirage/Wraith (Apex Legends) | Scout's Honour

Day 15: Voyeurism - Etho/Cleo (Limited Life SMP) | Respite

Day 16: Mirror Sex - Diana/Lucas (Hitman) | Change of Scenery

Day 17: Forced Orgasms - Xisuma/Keralis (Hermitcraft) | Entertainment

Day 18: Multiple Orgasms - False/Everyone (Hermitcraft) | for the sake of good times

Day 19: Stripping - Addison/Callie (Grey's Anatomy) | Sharing Is Caring

Day 20: Frottage - Becky/Felicity (Hidden Agenda) | Alive

Day 21: Somnophilia - House/Cuddy (House M.D.) | Good Morning Sunshine

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #belle writes #31 ficlets with 31 different ships

[ryvenarts]

A redraw I did of the 12th day of 31 days of apex in 2020🌱🌸

#apex #apex legends #skull town #art #fanart #artists on tumblr #still in love with the idea of it #skeleton #plants

[fyeahnix]

3, 7, 31 and 38 !

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole? Once upon a time ago, I would have said "the power of friendship" but I've actually grown to like it when I think about it more deeply. Oh, I have good one. That one where there's some old ass immortal being that falls in love with like...a fucking 20 something. I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE that shit. If I ever have one character who is of a species with a long lifespan they'll just be around the same age as the love interest.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. I don't know why this one always makes me so proud after I read it but it's from my Apex Legends Ash/Reader fic "If I Kneel (Will You Praise Me?)":

With that relationship, though, comes a newfound and deep-seated hunger. For all the boredom Ash exudes for mundane activities, her mechanical optics glow and whir with captivation in the presence of her pet rat. An unnamed creature, dark beige and ivory fur, flitting over and between her bone-white metal fingers during your private meetings. A quick snap or double tap orders the rodent to perform some menial trick and earn a nibble of cheese or nuts. Praise in its simplest and rawest form. It didn’t take her long to deduce that she could command you the same—a single pointed finger sending you to your knees to beg for your own brand of cheddar.

I can't rightly explain why but that comparison with her rat to explain the Reader's relationship with her just feels so fucking GOOD to me. I pat myself on the back after finalizing that one.

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant? I take liberties depending on how much the canon pisses me off or misses the mark imo. For Apex Legends, I will literally just change the canon because I fucking feel like it. Most of my fics are generally just canon divergence and a few are straight up AUs. Characters, I try to stick to canon as much as possible to make them sound believeable but will leave enough wiggle room for headcanons to make sense.

38. Talk about a review that made your day. I wish I could list them all because they always make my day! But if I had to pick one in particular, @/abitohoney's review on "Dogsong" recently was awesome because it was detailed aaaaan she's also one of my favorite Sevika/Reader writers. That review and endorsement meant a lot 😭

#personal #writing

[l33t-hax0r-tournament]

THE BRACKET IS HERE!

round 0 (yes, we are starting at 0 just like computers do) will start on march 2 at 12pm EST. the round will be spread out across 4 days to avoid a shadowban, and posts will be tagged as #round 0. the matchups were randomized, so sorry about that! matchups in text form are under the cut:

match 0: Ami Enan (Lupin III Part 5) vs. Harold Finch (Person of Interest)

match 1: Barbara Gordon (Batman) vs. Saburo Yamada (Hypnosis Mic)

match 2: Hackerman (Kung Fury) vs. Piconjo (Newgrounds)

match 3: Lain Iwakura (Serial Experiments Lain) vs. Dr. Alphys (Undertale)

match 4: Sollux Captor (Homestuck) vs. Lucyna Kushinada (Cyberpunk: Edgerunners)

match 5: Breanna Casey (Leverage: Redemption) vs. Saeyoung "707" Choi (Mystic Messenger)

match 6: Motoko Kusanagi (Ghost In The Shell (1995)) vs. Bentley Wiseturtle (Sly Cooper)

match 7: Kururu (Keroro Gunsou) vs. Mei Hatsume (Boku no Hero Academia)

match 8: Nomi Marks (Sense8) vs. Tulip Olsen (Infinity Train)

match 9: Tae Joon "Crypto" Park (Apex Legends) vs. Penny (Pokémon)

match 10: Tux the Penguin (GNU/Linux) vs. Hieronymous "The" Hacker (Cyberchase)

match 11: Elliot Alderson (Mr. Robot) vs. Koushiro "Izzy" Izumi (Digimon Adventure)

match 12: Vanessa A. (Five Night's at Freddy's: Security Breach) vs. Chihiro Fujisaki (Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc)

match 13: Donatello Hamato (Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) vs. Aloe Cookie (Cookie Run: OvenBreak)

match 14: Monika (Doki Doki Literature Club!) vs. Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivruski IV (Cowboy Bebop)

match 15: Spock (Star Trek) vs. Roxy Lalonde (Homestuck)

match 16: Rita (The Penumbra Podcast) vs. Futaba Sakura (Persona 5)

match 17: Entrapta (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power) vs. Mickey Smith (Doctor Who)

match 18: Idia Shroud (Twisted Wonderland) vs. Alter Ego (Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc)

match 19: Urushihara Hanzo (The Devil is a Part-Timer!) vs. Alec Hardison (Leverage)

match 20: Root (Person of Interest) vs. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya (Mass Effect)

match 21: Katie "Pidge" Holt (Voltron: Legendary Defender) vs. Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds)

match 22: Carla Dosa (The Hex) vs. Nicole the Holo-Lynx (Sonic the Hedgehog)

match 23: Dendy (OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes) vs. Toshiko "Tosh" Sato (Torchwood)

match 24: Yasuho Hirose (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: JoJolion) vs. Ezekiel Jones (The Librarians)

match 25: Ritsuko Akagi (Neon Genesis Evangelion) vs. Felicity Smoak (Arrow)

match 26: Robert "Bob" Johansson (We Are Legion (We Are Bob)) vs. Maya Ibuki (Neon Genesis Evangelion)

match 27: Neo (The Matrix) vs. Trinity (The Matrix)

match 28: James T. Kirk (Star Trek) vs. Player Bouchard (Carmen Sandiego (2019))

match 29: Shiang Sun (Shin Megami Tensei: Liberation Dx2) vs. Raimu "Rhyme" Bito (The World Ends With You)

match 30: Susie (Kirby) vs. Miles "Tails" Prower (Sonic the Hedgehog)

match 31: Mikado Ryuugamine (Durarara!!) vs. Fuuka Yamagishi (Persona 3)

#l33t hax0r tournament #round 0 #tumblr polls #wew it took longer than i wanted it to but it's here #i put almost every submission on here plus some of my favs #i know not all of them are technically hackers but shhhhh my poll