#try not to write multi challenge impossible

[bachissidehoe]

in which you're Reo's princess, and Nagi's his treasure. (w.c. 1049)

At first, you found it strange the way Nagi Seishiro would so casually throw his arm around your shoulder and hold you close to his chest. You were Reo’s girlfriend, after all. The girlfriend of his best friend.

“What are you playing?”

He sighed. “It would be a hassle to explain. You can watch though.”

And you did. You sat next to him on the couch, forcing your gaze past his toned muscles and shaggy, tangled hair to watch his little mobile game.

“Come here. It’s hard to play when you’re leaning on my arm.”

And he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side so he could access his screen better. Apparently, this position made him more mobile.

You were flushed. You didn’t think something like this would be allowed. You were nestled into the gorgeous, soft body of your boyfriend’s best friend.

“Oh cute! My princess and my treasure.”

That’s all Reo had said when he saw you. It surprised you, to say the least.

But it’s not like you were complaining. Where lying on Reo’s chest was warm, Nagi’s was cool. Where Reo was obvious with his praise, Nagi was nonchalant. You found yourself wanting the affection of both of them, in a weird way.

And it started to be less surprising when Nagi asked to hold you. In fact, you started to hope he would.

“Your thighs are soft, like pillows. I need a nap.”

And Nagi collapsed, right there on your thighs, letting his eyes flutter shut. So calm.

“Aren’t they?” Reo agreed from the opposite couch, encouraging the physicality.

What the two didn’t notice was how you shifted in your seat, affected by the warm breaths that dusted your inner thighs. It wouldn’t be comfortable for the snowy haired boy to sleep in a puddle, so you held on for dear life, your hands clenched around the fabric of the couch rather than tangled in his messy hair.

You hadn’t realized the effect Nagi Seishiro really had on you. How his subtle, casual affection had trained you to become a secret mess for him. For your boyfriend’s best friend.

But Reo- your smart, charismatic, beautiful boyfriend- he had realized. In fact, he’d been encouraging this for a reason.

“You’re bothered, aren’t you princess?”

For a moment you thought you may be in trouble. It’s wrong to get turned on by your boyfriend’s best friend. But the look on Reo’s face, the devious smirk, said otherwise.

So you nodded.

“How cute.” He moved to hover over you, Nagi still restful on your thighs. “My princess and my treasure get along so well.”

It became pretty obvious what your boyfriend wanted after that. You just didn't realize how you didn't notice it before. The way he looked at Nagi. The way he encouraged you two. He wanted Nagi just as badly as you did.

The burning growing between your thighs wasn't enough for just Reo to satisfy anymore. And he knew that.

"Princess, hm? That what you want me to call her too, Reo?" Nagi mumbled, his groggy eyes opening just enough to look up at your flushed face.

"You should." Reo pulled Nagi upward by his shirt, removing him from the comfortable spot he created on your thighs.

Nagi complained the whole way up, of course, he was never one to enjoy being forced out of a cozy position.

"You should also let her ride you." Reo smirked, bringing Nagi's face close to his, nearly touching his lips.

You gulped.

But Nagi Seishiro was less than nervous, the nonchalant type of person he was. He only glanced back at you, not struggling at all under your boyfriend's tight hold on his shirt.

"Yeah fine." Nagi agreed.

It was hard for you to tell whether Nagi really wanted to fuck you, whether he was interested in you at all or if he wanted to shut Reo up. But as it turned out, Nagi Seishiro was stubborn and ruthless. He wanted you just as badly, his cock constantly straining against his shorts whenever you were close to him, wanting any excuse to stuff his face into your pretty thighs. But he'd never admit it.

Not until you were bouncing on his thick cock, mouth hung open and hands relentlessly tugging on his hair. Right there on that couch. With your wet cunt soaking him, your movements squeezing juices into a messy coating for Nagi's bare thighs.

That's when Nagi Seishiro decided to be honest. "Fuck, I needed you. Fuck~ yes I need~ ah-"

And Reo couldn't have been happier about the beautiful scene he created. "You don't mind, hm? Can't expect me to just watch." He lined up behind you, letting his familiar, flushed tip plunge into the depths of your unused hole, forcing you to lean forward onto Nagi's chest.

"I'll get ya both off. Fuck~" Reo spat, his thrusts creating the friction both you and Nagi so desperately craved, your heavy breaths mixing into each other in the small space between you.

And you kissed him, because you couldn't help it. Your sloppy, drooly lips pressed to Nagi's in a desperate display of hunger.

As it turned out, Reo had been thinking about this for a long time. Longer than you had. Longer than the stubborn Nagi Seishiro had.

He rocked his hips in perfect rhythm, your cunt sliding and squeezing around Nagi's perfect cock while your ass was lubed and stuffed by your pretty boyfriend.

Reo was right about getting you both off, too. It took him practically no time, with your clit rubbing against Nagi's skin and the friction forcing Nagi's tip into your g-spot over and over again, it wasn't difficult. But that didn't matter to Reo, he never specified how many times he expected to get you two off. And it became clear very quickly that once wasn't enough for him.

He'd been holding back his desires for too long, he deserved to see you shaking, tears streaming down your face, cum dripping from all your holes. He deserved to see Nagi fucked out, hair sticking to his forehead, arms wrapped around you and lips attached to your bruised neck.

Your boyfriend deserved that much. After how long you made him wait to fuck his princess and his treasure.

[dearru]

summer’s in your blood | multi

pairing: multiple x gn!reader (college au) | sfw | cw: cursing | genre: fluff ig ? | wc: 499 | masterlist

synopsis -> you and your irritable boyfriend are on a stroll.

as you walk down your university’s pathway, the crisp autumn air stings your eyes, a stark contrast to how the warmth of the sun radiates softly off your back. the warm feeling lingers as you continue your stride, a gentle reminder of how summer is fading away. you watch the floor intently, basking in the satisfactory sound of the leaves crunching under your feet.

when you look up, you spot your boyfriend waiting for you under a large oak tree, the auburn foliage a sure indicator of the changing season. the sight of him brings a smile to your face. your boyfriend, as usual, has a sour expression drawn on, and his arms are crossed like he’s expecting a challenge. he often looked like this– intense and brooding. any reasonable onlooker would be scared to approach him, but you knew better.

you can sense that he’s been anticipating your arrival by the way he impatiently taps his foot and exclaims, “the people at this college are fuckin’ stupid,” the moment you’re within earshot. his sudden outburst has you stifling a laugh, and a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest.

“are they?” you inquire, amused, and he takes your inquiry as an invitation to drone on about how impossibly hopeless his classmates are. though, you’re only half listening to everything he has to say. instead, you take the chance to admire his boyish features. the slight contortion of his eyebrows and the fiery look in his eyes as he continues his tirade makes the warmth you feel more prominent. you liked when he would go on rants like this. normally, he hated when you’d stare at him for too long, but moments like these gave you an excuse.

the moment ends too soon when he finishes his rant and grunts, “c’mon.” grabbing the bookbag off of your shoulder and slinging it over his own as he drags you along a route that you recognize as the way to the library. a little into your walk, he takes ahold of your hand like it’s second nature. his grip is sturdy yet tender. you focus on the way he absentmindedly traces soft circles along your hand with his thumb as the two of you walk.

as you continue to walk alongside him, the heat of his hand is a welcome feeling when paired with the now chilly fall air. as you focus on this feeling, a realization rushes over you. your boyfriend may be similar to a hot summer day– he’s harsh, intimidating, and direct. however, the subtle, unspoken intimacy that comes with loving him is something that reminds you more of the fall. his love feels like wearing a warm sweater on a chilly day, enveloping you in warmth and making you feel protected and cherished.

considering this thought, you glance up at his face and settle upon the conclusion that you hope you’ll be able to experience moments similar to this one with him for every season that’s to come.

BAKUGO KATSUKI, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, sasuke uchiha, KENTAROU KYOUTANI, + your fav <3

—a/n: originally written for bakugo and tbh i don’t even fw him like that…but i still love this fic!! this was written for a friend earlier this month bc i was trying to get back into writing and i just felt like posting it :) lmk if this suits any other characters & i’ll add them to the list hehe :3

[fortheb0ys]

BOTTOM DOM JOHN PRICE X TOP SUB MALE READER

☆Daddy, I just wanna be your bitch!☆

I know I like to write characters being absolutely cock drunk and fucked stupid but my biggest kink is being treated like I'm fucking stupid dog♡

CW: dumbification (reader), pet play, pet names (daddy & puppy) USED ALOT, age-gap, crying during sex, face slapping, reader is inexperienced in sex NOT PROOFREAD AND KINDA RUSHED AT THE END

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

I'm just imaging Price having to bark orders at you all day just to do the same in bed. You're brain goes absolutely empty and Price has to tell you how to do EVERYTHING. He's slightly displeased with himself for failing for such a young and inexperienced man but his love for you outweighs it.

You're clumsy as you try to finger him open. Price gets so frustrated that he offers to do it himself but you're so eager to please that you insist. You take what feels like forever to work him open, overestimating him in the process. Being feed up, Price would take matters into his own hands. He'd sit with all his weight on your chest and his back facing you, taking the breath from your lungs, as he fingers himself open.

His ass is so close to your face but Price orders you to keep your hands away. You grip tightly at his thighs, squeezing and scratching, as you whimper like a kicked puppy.

"Puppy, calm down. Daddy, trying to show you how it's done."

Price would wrap his hand around your dick as he multi-tasks between jerking you and fingering himself open. Much like the rest of your body, your cock is massive. Price's mouth waters at the thought of being stretched full around it but training you to use it was the difficult part. Such a monster of a cock but you were too stupid on how to use it.

Once Price was ready, he sank on your cock. The stretch was deliciously painful. Before he was even remotely close to being ready to move, you began bucking your hips up. He lets out a pained moan and tells to stop. His orders fall on deaf ears as you try to chase your own pleasure, completely forgetting about Price. Unsure of how to stop you, Price lands a hard slap across your left cheek.

Tears prick your eyes as you immediately stop snd bring a hand to your now red cheek. Before Price could apologize he feels you twitch inside him.

"Awww does my sweet boy like it a little rough? Does puppy like it when daddy hurts him?" Price says sweetly, his voice having an undertone of mockery.

All that left you throat was another whimper as you nod. Price felt another twitch inside his tight walls.

"Daddy, please you feel so good." More tears threaten to leave your eyes. Price looks into your eyes, a pathetic look adorns your face. The sight was amusing. You laying there, your hips wiggling ever so slightly and tears in your eyes. Price felt so good around you. His walls velvet soft. He was really teaching you patience.

"Daddy knows but you need to behave and stay still. You feel a lot bigger than you look and you're a big boy, puppy." Price cards his fingers through your hair to calm you down.

You whine as try stay impossibility still to please Price. Small huffs of impatience and both your ragged breathing was the only noise in the room.

Once Price started bouncing, what felt like an electric shock riddled your body. Like taking a hit of drugs, a high over takes washes over you.

His strong legs flex as he works himself on your cock. You lift your hips to meet him halfway with needy thrusts. His moans drive you deeper into madness. His pupils are blown with lust and you know yours are the same. A predator's smile across his face.

"Harder, puppy. I like it just as rough as you."

Without second thought and bruising strength, you grip his hips and slam into him. Price lets outs a small grunt. A slight blush dusts his face. He got want he wanted.

His movements never falter as your pace picks up. A challenging look appears in his eyes. His walls contract around you. You've never felt something as wonderful as being inside your captain, the way your cock dragged through him. He looked so good doing it. Like you were made to be him inside him.

His tits bounced along were him. Price's nipples were just as eye catching as he was. Pink and erect. Standing out from his hairy chest. The need to pinch , suck or just have your hands all over them became too strong. Your hands quickly found themselves groping at them.

Price let's out a grunt and your hands immediately pull away thinking you had done something without his permission.

"Go on, puppy. I'll let ya."

Sitting up, you go to work on his chest. Your lips sucks at one nipples as your fingers pinch at another. This encouraged you to pound harder into him. You loved the way his hair felt against your clean shaven face.

Price tries to keep his composure but finds it hard when your lapping at his chest as well as pounding hard into him. On top of that his his legs were beginning to hurt. He was so close. The knot in his stomach grew with each passing second. It was evident that you were as well. Your whimpers grew louder.

His moans were your favorite part. Breathy yet so deep, they rattled your bones.

"You close, doll?" Price asks while trying to get your attention off his chest by petting your messy hair down.

Your eyes are now on Price's face, but it's clear you didn't understand him. Eyes unfocused, you shake your head. Not to give him an answer but to ckear your sex fogged mind. It takes a prolonged moment for your brain to catch up to your mouth. You didn't trust that if you were to open it, that a moan wouldn't escape your lips.

"Yeah. R-really close." You managed to only whisper out.

A few more thrusts and you finished inside him. Price coming untouched, cum covering his hairy chest. You both lay panting, trying to catch your breath. Your forehead rests against Price's chest. His heartbeat rings loudly in your ears.

Once the high slightly settles, you look up to his face. God, was he so beautiful.

The way Price's mouth was slightly open. His tongue touched the back of his teeth, slipping to past his lips. The rise and off of his chest.

Just thinking how someone so perfect as your captain could love someone like you. A young kid, early into your military career and a decorated solider.

Did he love you? Could he love you the same way you did to him? The way he was your breath in your lungs, unable to live without.

You once again begin to tear up. This time to fall down your cheeks. Why you were such a crybaby after sex and not otherwise was something you could never get the answers for?

"Baby, Y/N? What wrong?" Price stopped moving and settled his weight on your pelvis. He dropped the pet names, was he angry? His voice was still smooth like honey. There was no malicious. Just love.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry. Love you. L-Love so much."

You pull him down till your head is buried into his neck. Sobbing as you try to catch your breath. Price's hand finds it's place on the side of your head, and a thumb rubs gently over your ear.

"It's okay, puppy. You know, daddy loves you?" He knew how emotionally unstable you could be. Doubting every step you took without guidance. He promised that was something he'd never take advantage of.

Your tears stop after a few minutes of crying. Price's gentle touch easing your worries. You look up at him with bright eyes, like tears had never touched them and smile. You give him a sweet peck on the cheek.

"Love you."

"You were such a good boy, but you need more training."

You frantically nod. There was anything you would want more in the entire world than to be your captain's good puppy.

"Daddy's gonna have ta think of a punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, daddy."

As your punishment, Price would put you on a leash a parade you around naked, showing off the numerous bite marks, scratches and hickies. Your cock painfully hard and dripping precum, a vibrating cock ring tightens painfully around it. You're turned on by the humiliation and the fact that everyone knows you're Price's bitch. Whimpers escape your throat as you see soliders eye you up and down. A sharp tug on your leash from Price reminded you to keep your mouth shut.

As a reward for accepting your punishment well, Price will ride you in his office will the door wide open letting people see how much of a well-trained dog you are. Numerous people stop. Some for a moment to look at the source of moans and grunts. Others stop and jerk off at such a sinful sight, just hoping to get the chance to be able to get impale on your dick.

[cha-melodius]

2024 Fic Year in Review

My fifth fic year in review! It's always wild to go back and look at how far I've come. As always, feel free to grab this if you want to do your own; I've stitched it together over the years. And thank you to everyone who read my fics this year, whether it was one or all of them.

2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023

AO3 Username: chamel My Page: Link Active Fandoms: Red, White & Royal Blue: 14 works Loki: 3 works The Man from UNCLE (2015): 1 work New Fandoms: The Pairing (CMQ novel; 1 work) Total Number Of Completed Works/Word Count This Year: 23 works, 303k words All Time: 135 works, 1.57 million words

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos): This Year: Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 9.4k) All Time: Class(room) Warfare (RWRB, Alex/Henry, T, 7.8k words)

Most Popular Completed Multi-Chapter (by kudos):  This Year: False Dichotomy (RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 62k) All Time: Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood  (RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 20k words)

Events/Challenges: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Gift Exchange 2024, A Royally Big Bang, Lokius Reverse Bang, idk do what you want exchange

More reflections, stats, and planned fics below the cut!

Additional Random AO3 Stats

By number of fics: 79% one shots, 21% multi-chaps

By word count: 69% multi-chaps (nice), 31% one shots

Ratings by number of fics: 48% E-rated, 26% M-rated, 26% T-rated

Musical artists contributing highest number of titles: spread out this year, but Wilco, Metric & Sufjan Stevens came in with 2 each

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?  I was wrong in my 2024 roundup post—I wrote 25k more words this year despite having 10 fewer fics. Which I did NOT expect. I figured I was trucking along to make my usual ~270k, but I forgot about The Secret Fics lol.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?  I think I have to go with Body and Soul(mate), which I'm just so so proud of. I love how it came out and I think it's really original.

Did you complete your writing goals from last year?  The Goal: My goal is to have a similar mix of fics as least year, and also to write my first collaboration with @cricketnationrise, which will be a long multichap. First part, pretty close. I wrote more multichaps (21% vs 15%) this year, which meant fewer fics in total. Second part, oops. Cricket and I have both been busy, but the hockey fic lives!! We'll get to it eventually!

Do you have any writing goals for the New Year? I can't believe I'm gonna say this but... write more original fiction. See below for more on that. Fanfic wise... finally finish some of the planned stories I've had kicking around for a while.

Did you take any writing risks this year? I submitted a pitch for an anthology, was accepted, and wrote my first original story! I had a lot of fun with it and I think I'll purse more next year. Idk if I'm ready for a whole novel and trying to get (more) published, but we'll see.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Even though it's numbers have come up since publishing, I'm still gonna go with The Impossible Soul, aka my Westworld-esque android/human AU.

Most fun story to write: Probably Body and Soul(mate). Figuring out all the body swaps and soulmate lore was a lot of fun and the whole thing just flowed so well.

Biggest disappointment: Why do I keep this question? I hate complaining publicly. 😂 My biggest disappointment is that I sometimes let fandom drama/trends/popularity make me feel bad. Being mad because a fandom loves X type of fic doesn't help anyone.

Biggest surprise: I'm not sure I really had any big surprises this year. Biggest surprise in my stats was that my percent of explicit works is way up—T used to be my most-used rating. Part of that is publishing fewer one-shots, since those tend to be T for me, whereas a long fic is more likely to be E.

Coming soon/planned for 2024: It's a little depressing how so many of these are the same as last year. Hence the resolution above, I guess.

Kissed Out (RWRB pro-pool players AU)

RWRB 1940s noir AU

RWRB conductor/piano soloist AU

RWRB Jurassic Park AU

RWRB rodeo rider/polo player AU

RWRB hockey AU (with cricket)

A shitload of prompts from my fandom fest

Extremely delinquent MTH fics

TMFU art thief/gallery owner AU

Thanks to folks who tagged me in their year in review posts, including @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @kiwiana-writes, and @porcelainmortal

[sulkybender]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thank you to @hot-flippin-mess and @spacecasehobbit for the tags!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 109

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? …. afraid to look

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only ATLA/LOK :)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Every night my teeth are falling out

2. Black eyes always watch the clock

3. wasn’t my body rescued, wasn’t it safe

4. Candles and honey

5. Beloved of the sun

5. Do you respond to comments? Always, unless they’re mean 😂

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhhh. It’s hard to say. I write a lot about disability and so I can see arguments for those stories being angsty in the way they end because no one gets “better”—that’s not how disability works—but I don’t find those endings angsty. It’s about being supported and affirmed and loved. I don’t know, life is really hard and all we can do in the face of that hardness is love each other.

I would say possibly “like petals on your skin” is the saddest but the ending is more bittersweet.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh gosh. Most of them? I think the ending of the “pretty burn” series is especially euphoric.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got a comment once on how my depiction of Azula losing her bending was not “psychologically accurate” or something, and two of my favorite commenters went off on them 😂

Apart from that, I got a comment once on one of my favorite stories saying I write “trauma porn,” which was very hurtful. That still hurts. That’s not what I do.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yeah! Ummmm smutty smut, that’s the kind of smut I write 😂

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Someone asked to translate one into German—I think that’s still a work in progress? But I was very honored, it’s a beautiful thing.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I’ve brainstormed/shared brainworms that have led to fics! And I wrote a fic for my friend Cat which she recorded, so we’re listed as co-authors on the podfic.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Zukkaaaaaaaaaa

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I’ve kind of learned to never say never. “I used to invent love when necessary,” one of my current multi chapters? I’d been trying to think of ways to write it for like a year. And then a couple weeks ago I started sharing ideas with friends and that gave me the boost to actually do it.

There’s an LOK-era Zukka fic I really want to write but I think it needs to sit longer. I’m tired!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oh God. Um. I get anxious thinking about this lol. I asked a friend and they said “compassion,” compassion for the characters <3

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Action scenes are challenging.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I haven’t really felt the need for it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? LOTR 🥲

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Completely impossible to answer ahaha

I’ll tag: @anarchycox, @anodymalion, @queendollophead-ao3, and @lovelyelbowleech! Just if it’s fun for you :)

[little-waterfly]

The Curse Of Being The Weakest.

Demon!Shinobu AU.

Type of fic: Drabble, prologue.

Trigger Warnings: Content not suitable for everyone. Descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, injections, death, implied self-harm, mental illness.

Author notes:

This is one of the first times writing something on my own. The idea came from a Demon Event I did on my Shinobu RP account, so I wrote a solo explaining how she decided to turn into a demon in order to get stronger and successfully defeat Douma.

Kinda an AU where she decides to use demon blood instead of you know..

If I get motivated, I might write a multi-chapter short fic where I can include interactions with Kanao, Giyu (coughs Giyushino) and her fighting Douma in her demon form.

I also gotta credit my friend Awesome for some of the ideas and being my beta reader, mwah ~

Enjoy and let me know your thoughts if you liked it ~ !

Kocho Shinobu's office, Butterfly Mansion.

Looking at the demon blood reserve she has been collecting from lower rank demons in her past missions as Hashira, Shinobu made sure she got it stored in a secret and safe place.

Getting stronger has always been challenging for her, feeling too weak to accomplish her goal of avenging her late sister, Kanae. That was the reason why Shinobu decided to try a different approach, becoming more and more interested in how the demon blood worked.

Being a breathing user would take a lot of demon blood for her to transform, still, she didn't give up and calculated the minimum she needed.

With her own medical knowledge, she separated the blood's components, only keeping the necessary to make a demon blood concentrated serum that she could get into her body by her own.

Days, weeks, months went by. The demon blood couldn't be taken in small portions like poison, it had to be done all at once.

She also knew that for her level of breathing concentration, it would almost be impossible to become a demon, so everything had to be meticulously calculated.

Once she reached more than the minimum volume of the liquid in her storage, Shinobu stopped going to her missions, using the excuse of focusing more on the butterfly mansion to treat the injured people and also training more nurses and doctors to help out with that labor.

Despite the hard work in the mansion, the real reason was to stop using her breathing style and make the transformation effective.

She marked a specific day in her calendar. No one else knew or suspected what she was planning but, for her, it was a risk that had to be made in order to get stronger and be able to fight other demons by becoming one of them herself.

Three bags of concentrated blood were hanging in her locked office at night.

A catheter in her forearm connected her own blood with the demon blood bags. Muzzling herself she took a piece of paper to start writing a letter before she let the serum drop into her body.

ㅤㅤ" Kanae, I'm sorry.

ㅤㅤKanao, people in the Butterfly Mansion, the rest of the Hashira, the kids who has lost their families to the demons, slayers in training. . .

ㅤㅤI won't go after you. . . But you're allowed to go after me, I know I deserve it and you would do as the rules said so. . . Still, I have to deeply apologize. . . because this is something I had to do.

ㅤㅤAs the weakest Hashira, trying to avenge my sister against an Upper Moon sounds like a failed mission or just a suicide attempt. I won't allow that, they all need to die, and probably I will too, but I will only rest in peace once I realize that I could give all of myself to the cause. . . Even if it meant becoming a demon myself.

ㅤㅤI won't ask you to understand, but I hope you do.

- Kocho, Shinobu . "

After putting the letter in a safe place, she let the concentrated thick liquid drop at a medium pace, quick enough to make it effective and slow enough to prevent a heart attack. She was a doctor after all and knew the correct way to do it.

Keeping her look in the ceiling, she felt every drop of blood getting inside her veins. It felt cold, painful, she felt herself dying inside little by little.

Those felt like the longest hours in her whole life, glad she muzzled herself because she let go screams of pain once in a while.

Tears ran down her face, but she was determined to get to the end of this. A pain killer would only make the process longer or ineffective, she calculated until the last detail of this.

After three hours, she changed to the next bag, keeping one more left, so she had to go all night through the same painful process.

Once the last blood bag was dripping in her veins, she was used to that pain, letting herself faint until the process was complete.

Waking up by some knocks on her door, she saw that the last bag was empty, quickly putting everything away.

When everything was clean, she left the letter on the surface of her desk, jumping off from the window and running to hide in the darkness of the woods in case she had a side effect, not sure if anyone would find ever her, but Shinobu wasn't a human anymore. . .

She was now a demon.

[lnights]

At the beginning of 2023, I saw a challenge called The Year Of The OTP: 12 prompts. 12 months. One ship. I chose BC/BC because I write One Thing™️

Some are short one shots, some are multi chapters, two are pure smut 😌 links and summaries below.

January: Snow

Prompt: Snow, Rating G.

Summary:

He puffed out, smoke mingling with the steam of his hot breath as he tilted his head back, watching the softly falling snow.

February: Valentine's Day

Prompts: Valentine's Day and established relationship/long distance. Rating E.

Summary:

Their Valentine's Day plans were interrupted by bad weather. That's not going to stop them.

March: Fresh Starts

Prompt: Fresh Starts. Rating M. Angel/Demon au, sequel to Long Way Down

Summary:

The elders had always said falling was the most painful thing that could happen to an angel. As Tommi had hit the water and felt bones breaking he could only think they had been correct, pain shooting through every nerve endings and as he slowly sank he wondered how he was even still alive, being quite literally tossed from one realm of existence to another was like falling from a plane without a parachute.

April: Painting you Blue

Prompt: University AU. Rating G. 5 chapters.

Summary:

but still… he was a teacher now. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He should have never let Niko and Joonas talk him into this Or Joel is a new teacher at the same university as his boyfriends and their good friends. He is not excited.

May: Flower Moon

Prompt: Flower language. Rating G. Part of my Wolfpack AU.

Summary:

Aleksi is learning a new wolf tradition and wants to surprise his mates.

June: Can You Hear the Silence Getting Loud?

Prompts: Soulmates. Rating M. 5 chapters, part of my Soulmate AU

Summary:

For years Aleksi has been happy with his soulmates, his family long cut off. Until a relative contacting him makes him question that choice.

July: Heaven (and Hell) on Earth

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers and Coffeeshop AU. Rating M. 5 chapters. Angel/Demon AU

Summary:

There were two men running the counter as he got there, looking at him with what could almost be called suspicion. One was tall, even taller than him, and muscly, while the other was rather short with curly honey colored hair. "Welcome," the shorter of the two said, "what can we get you this evening?" "Your strongest, largest espresso," Joel said bluntly. His insomnia had decided to kick his ass that night, at least he could try to stay awake and be productive rather than be in his half awake, half asleep zombie mode that it usually sent him into. The larger man chuckled a little and got to work on the drink while the smaller rang him up; there was something about them that kept Joel's attention on them, something about the shop that begged for his attention. Maybe it was the name, Sinful Coffee.

August: Weathering the Storm

Prompt: Storm. Rating T.

Summary:

Blind Channel and their crew gets stuck at an airport in their hectic tour schedule. Joel and Niko don't handle it well.

September: Beacon in a Storm

Prompts: hurt comfort, meeting the family, flood, shifter au. Rating T.

Summary:

Olli stared through the dark window of their home, trying to not panic. The rain was getting impossibly heavier and Joel and Aleksi still weren't back; the dirt road leading to town had to be flooded by now, they could be stuck in mud or washed away if they weren't careful. "We never should have sent them by themselves." Joonas mumbled, "we should have gone with."

October: Pop Princess, Hold My Hand

Prompts: Texting, couple costumes. Rating T.

Summary:

It's Joonas' turn to pick their Halloween costumes.

November: Be Careful What You Wish For

Prompt: Be Careful What You Wish For. Rating E.

Summary:

Tommi decides to show his boyfriends a new side of him

December: Opinion on the Season

Prompt: Holidays together. Rating G. Stand alone sequel to Rumors and Opinions.

Summary:

Niko sighed and exhaled the smoke from his lungs. Holidays were always an interesting time of year. They all had a lot of family to see and it could be a tad overwhelming; seeing so many relatives in a short period, let alone all the shopping they had to do, arranging travel, arguments over who's family home they will wake up in on Christmas morning…

[purble-gaymer]

just because you are the beloved meta knight moot and i'm really sleepy i'm going to rant about metadad for a little while because it's hard to find people who think metadad can kind of be a double edged sword (haha sword pun). or just care about this in general.

imo metadad is really good and i like it. i think it's a fun concept to toy with and there's some evidence to back it up (ie: face reveal, that really cute itsudemo kirby book, sakurai and ohmoto's comments about his relationship with kirby).

here's the thing that really gets to me though. metadad falls into "soft father figure in a nuclear family unit" so so so so so much. which is so weird, because the dream team isn't a soft nuclear family at all! these people all have very similar skill + competence levels, and they're constantly physically fighting each other. this is like, a constant rivalry thing. these are people that deeply care about each other but aren't constantly babying each other.

like, metadad. i said there was evidence, and there is. and it's a cute concept! i like the idea of mk seeing kirby as a son! i like the idea that they can be soft and tender and loving with each other! but meta knight is like, notoriously irresponsible, and kirby can handle himself on his own. he doesn't need to be a responsible dad type, nor does he need to handle all of kirby's problems. this carries over to animeverse, even. it just feels like we're skipping the whole "rivarly" and "violence" and "similar power level" to have the cutesy dad stuff exclusively. maybe. maybe i can see it in animeverse. but it's circumstantial. it's really circumstantial. yeah. i should be writing.

yes yes yes. these four go through a ton together and boiling their dynamic down to something so strictly familiar feels…demeaning.

i’ve mentioned before that i sprinkle a bit of metadad into my work. it’s fun, like you say, and it makes sense with how they support each other and are always trying to help the other improve. the dream team works together in a way that is easy to read as a family. but, mostly i do it in a mentor-student way more so than father-son. i’ve grown fond of the ‘mk raised sailor dee’ headcanon lately, and even then he isn’t really a father type. he’s still more a mentor and a friend than anything else.

mk gets softened a lot. like, more than he would realistically be. i love getting to see him lower his guard and be vulnerable for once, hell one look at any of my knights-related work is enough to know that, but he has a limit. he’s still a powerful warrior with years of experiences weighing on him. we don’t know much about his history in the game-verse, but there’s probably something hidden away in the memory vault. he’s mature in a way many kirby characters aren’t.

and that’s not to say someone like kirby himself isn’t mature. he is, in his own way. he’s younger, is all, but he’s not a baby. he’s been through his own struggles and has learned from them. he’s grown and changed since dreamland 1 and adventure, and that’s a conversation for a different night with how much i have to say about it. even in the anime i feel like the descriptor of “he cannot speak, he can hardly think” is much too harsh (and i should point out, meta knight is the one who says this! he’s war-hardened and difficult to impress, and over the course of the show he grows to understand that just because kirby is young doesn’t mean he can’t conquer challenges the knight may see as impossible).

sometimes their actions can be read as friends, sometimes as rivals, sometimes as father-son. they are multi-layered, complex characters with an incredibly strong bond. there is so much more to these two, and dedede and bandee as well, than “soft happy family living domestically in dreamland.” domestic isn’t even in their vocabulary. they just are, and they’re just doing whatever they want, because that’s what you do when you have people you trust to such a degree. they’re whatever they are in the moment and it’s great. such a developed dynamic should be explored, not ignored. these four have limitless potential in the ways that they interact.

compare adventure and super star to robobot and triple deluxe, to forgotten land, to return to dreamland and star allies. you can tell just how much love has been poured into these characters, and how much love they have for each other. they go to hell and back and they always do it as a team.

[keylovesstuff]

13 and 30? :D

Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

Alternate Universe. I feel like it's already challenging to keep characters in character as they're presented in media. So not only would I have to come up with some engaging plot to drop some pre-existing characters in, but also try to keep the in character enough to make whoevers reading think "Yeah blank would totally be like this if they were in this type of universe". If they sway too far from their in-universe counterparts , its like might as well create your original story at that point (at least imo) 🤫.

Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

A longfic!??!! You're asking the impossible from me. It's already a challenge writing a decent 4k oneshot 🤣🤣 and at least when I think of longfics, I think multi-chapter fics and oh gosh, thinking of an overarching plot and spanning it for so many chapters 😳. No ideas in the near future, at least for me, but I think it would be so fun to try my hand at rewriting a season for a show or movie, which would probably actually help with those prints maybe now that I'm thinking about it. 🤔

[choco--java]

Chameleon Mode: The Secret Weapon for Anonymous Multi-Account Management

You've likely faced the challenge of managing multiple online accounts while trying to keep your digital identities separate and secure. Whether you're handling business profiles, maintaining privacy, or simply organizing different aspects of your online life, the risk of cross-contamination between accounts can expose your activities and compromise your anonymity. That's where Chameleon Mode steps in as your strategic solution, offering sophisticated fingerprint masking and profile switching capabilities that'll transform how you navigate the digital landscape - and what you're about to discover will change your approach to online privacy forever.

Understanding Chameleon Mode's Core Features

Three core features define Chameleon Mode's multi-account management system: instant profile switching, automated login credentials, and customizable workspace themes.

With instant profile switching, you'll seamlessly transition between different accounts without logging out or closing browsers. The system stores your credentials securely and auto-fills them when needed, saving time and reducing login errors.

Workspace themes help you visually distinguish between accounts, preventing mix-ups during simultaneous use. You can assign unique color schemes, layouts, and shortcuts to each profile.

The platform's built-in memory ensures your preferences remain intact across sessions, while its encryption protocols protect your sensitive data. These features work together to create a fluid, secure environment for managing multiple online identities efficiently.

Digital Fingerprint Masking Explained

Security forms the foundation of Chameleon Mode's digital fingerprint masking technology. When you're managing multiple accounts, your digital fingerprint can expose your true identity through browser configurations, IP addresses, and device settings.

Chameleon Mode shields these identifiers by creating unique, randomized fingerprints for each account. You'll get a different digital signature every time you switch accounts, making it impossible for websites to link your activities.

The system automatically rotates your browser parameters, including user agent strings, canvas fingerprints, and WebRTC settings. It also masks your timezone, language preferences, and screen resolution data.

Setting Up Multiple Secure Profiles

Chameleon Mode's profile manager lets you create and maintain distinct digital identities with just a few clicks.

You'll start by generating a unique browser fingerprint for each profile, complete with its own set of cookies, cache data, and local storage.

To set up a new profile, select "Add Profile" and choose your preferred parameters - including operating system, timezone, screen resolution, and language settings.

You can assign custom names and color codes to each profile for easy identification. The built-in parameter randomizer ensures your profiles remain consistently unique without overlapping fingerprints.

Don't forget to enable the auto-clean feature, which wipes residual data between profile switches.

For added security, you'll want to pair each profile with a dedicated proxy or VPN connection.

Best Practices for Identity Separation

With your profiles properly configured, maintaining strict separation between your digital identities becomes the next key focus.

Never cross-reference your accounts or share identifying information between profiles. Use different writing styles, posting schedules, and behavioral patterns for each identity.

Don't access your accounts from the same IP address - rotate between different VPN servers for each profile. Keep separate email addresses, payment methods, and recovery options for each account.

Avoid using similar usernames or profile pictures that could link your identities.

Set up dedicated browsers or containers for each profile and never mix their cookies or cache. Document your identity details in an encrypted file to prevent confusion, and regularly audit your digital footprint to ensure there's no identity bleed between accounts.

Advanced Privacy Protection Techniques

Taking privacy protection to the next level requires implementing sophisticated techniques beyond basic identity separation.

You'll need to use dedicated VPNs with rotating IPs for each account, implement browser compartmentalization through sandboxing, and maintain separate encrypted containers for your digital footprints.

Consider using hardware security keys for two-factor authentication, as they're more secure than SMS or authenticator apps.

You should also deploy advanced fingerprint spoofing tools to randomize your device signatures, and use RAM-only operating systems for ultra-sensitive accounts.

Don't forget to implement strict data segregation by using different secure email providers and maintaining separate cryptocurrency wallets for each identity.

Regular security audits and penetration testing will help ensure your privacy measures remain effective.

Frequently Asked Questions

How Long Does Chameleon Mode Retain Browsing Data After a Session Ends?

You'll find that your browsing data is immediately deleted when you end a session, as chameleon mode doesn't retain any history, cookies, or cache after closing the browser window.

Can Law Enforcement Agencies Detect When Someone Is Using Chameleon Mode?

You can't guarantee law enforcement won't detect your browsing activity.

While it helps mask your digital footprint, advanced forensic tools and surveillance methods could potentially track your online behavior.

Is Chameleon Mode Compatible With Cryptocurrency Wallets and Trading Platforms?

You'll need to check each platform's compatibility, as cryptocurrency wallets and trading sites have different security measures that may detect and block browser fingerprint manipulation tools.

What Happens if Chameleon Mode Crashes While Managing Multiple Profiles?

If your browser crashes while managing profiles, you'll need to restart the application.

Your data's typically preserved, but it's wise to regularly save and backup your settings.

Does Using Chameleon Mode Significantly Impact Internet Connection Speed?

You'll notice minimal impact on your connection speed while using Chameleon Mode.

It's designed to run efficiently, slowing things down by only 5-10% in most cases.

Conclusion

You'll find Chameleon Mode to be your ultimate solution for managing multiple online identities securely. By implementing digital fingerprint masking and following best practices for profile separation, you're now equipped to maintain complete anonymity across your accounts. Don't hesitate to explore the advanced privacy features - they'll ensure your digital presence remains untraceable while streamlining your multi-account management needs.

[bluestar22x]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Got tagged by @goodwithcheese by proxy [kinda]. ;)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?: I have 35 works on AO3. 28 on fanfiction.net. Some fics are reposts from the latter. I have 31 fanfics on tumblr, 29 of them being Pedro character fics. AO3 is just my back up for these fics (I have to load more on AO3 soon; it's missing some fics).

2. What's your total AO3 word count?: 162,722 - I'm not shocked. Most of that probably comes from like 3 or 4 of my fanfics.

3. What fandoms do you write for?: The Pedro fandom, though I've written for Supernatural (CW), 911 Lone Star, 12 Monkeys (Syfy), and Dominion (Syfy) in the past.

4. Top five fics by kudos

The Outcast with 56

The Journey with 49

A Bad Fall and Colors with 42

Sweet Summer and Visitation Rights with 37

One Night with 36

It's funny what hits on there compared to here on tumblr (Sweet Summer is my #1 fic on here). It's a little different (Joel is popular in every universe though).

I didn't link to AO3 because that's just my secondary fanfic dump. I rarely visit it. I'm on tumblr every day.

5. Do you respond to comments?: Yes, they're usually very simple cause I don't often know what to say to "this was so good!" but I always try to comment on every single one because they made an effort and I have the time to do it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?: Definitely my latest fic Betrayal. I don't write unhappy endings often (I never do), but when I do it's for a writing challenge. Otherwise, there's also Weary that ends bittersweet.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?: This is impossible cause I am such a happily ever after person. The Outcast certainly in the traditional sense (Pero finding love and a home). But there's also The Rockford Files which starts with Tim having a angsty background but puts that to rest at the end (and he also finds love). My Sweet Summer Series and Second Chances Series are also both happy endings. Baby Fever too. For one shots maybe any of my Frankie fanfics. I also really like in canon happy endings so I have fics like The Tree which could fit into TLOU canon (but in my version lots of game 2/season 2 plots never happen).

8. Do you get hate on fics?: Not yet. Guess I'm not popular enough for them to pay attention to me. Quite frankly, I'm insulted I get ignored by the trolls. :P

9. Do you write smut?: Yep. Definitely. It's a requirement for all my romantic fics that are multi-chaptered. I like my smut even though writing them takes forever, especially since I'm still trying to not repeat myself even after so many fics (always trying to change up the words/terms I use, positions, etc.). I do still have fluff fics and angst fics that don't have it, but they're short fics so I don't need the spice to keep my short attention span focused.

10. Craziest crossover: I don't write crossovers

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?: I don't think so

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?: No. Maybe? I think someone once asked if they could translate one of my SPN fics to Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?: No. I wouldn't want to collab. I don't even like writing with myself sometimes. And I think my style of writing is way too different from others for it to all blend well. Most importantly, I like having full creative control of my fics.

Sometimes I wish I had a ghost writer though. lol

14. All time favorite ship?: Too many. And too many were not together at the end (chose different people/one died). :( Uh...Oh! Melinda/Jim on Ghost Whisperer! That's got to be my favorite couple! Jim is the perfect husband. If any guys need an example for being a great husband...Jim. Jim is a great one.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?: I plan on finishing all my WIPs. Whether I have the time for them all is the question but I don't have one where I'm like: as if that'll happen. I am pretty sure given enough time I'll get to them all.

16. What are your writing strengths?: I always have a hard time finding the answer to this. Having a clear sight of where I want to go? What I want to write, I guess? I'm not bad with convo I guess. I think my smut is pretty well written if not a little on the mechanical side (I need to work on explaining what they're feeling vs. what they're doing.)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?: I'd say details. Sure I can explain how something or someone looks but it's like "the mountain was massive" and not all poetic or anything. I try. If I never get there, well, that's why I write fanfics and not books. I'm not going to sweat it.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?: I don't mind sprinkling it in, but I don't know any languages besides English, at least not really. You'd think having French in school and watching Narcos with all that Spanish I'd pick up more than a few words but...nope.

19. First fandom you wrote in?: Supernatural. My first official fic was in 2010 but I had one or two I wrote on a Microsoft word doc before that that never saw the light of day.

20. Favorite fic you've written?: I'd say The Outcast. It was one of those fics that came out of nowhere but sometimes those are the best ones. I loved writing for the characters and writing about nature and the horses, etc. Plus it was fun making winter a stage for new beginnings.

x

Everyone seeing this who is a writer, I tag you. (If you want to talk about your fics, go right ahead!) Also @solanumofthestars and @trulybetty

x

P.S. this is why Jim's amazing:

[psalacanthea]

funnily enough, this file turned out to be the remnants of a multi-chapter fic. It was my speed-writing exercise, so I lost a lot of it due to writing it directly into tumblr posts.

The fic conceit was Inquisition, but Solas was a dragon (long story involving someone trying to get me to write dragon porn) and the Inquisitor is literally the worst person who ever lived. Her name was Effie, short for Fuck Everything Lavellan.

Sadly the file did not contain the episode involving the acquisition of Cecil, the Bearquisitor (she did not like the amulet of the packmaster, so they had to stay in the Hinterlands until they found the amulet of the bearmaster), which was my favorite. Alas.

But here is her being forced at swordpoint to go get something she accidentally left in the Fade, ft. her abusive relationship with the Nightmare demon (she's the abusive one).

...

Effie's dreams were cold and cruel and full of screaming, cries of agony that could not be escaped from. They pierced the leaden, twisted skies, echoing until the demonic hordes themselves cried out, adding to the cacophony of misery.

You know, like dogs. Barking. You know how like, you're trying to sleep, and one dog starts barking, and then another one starts barking, and before you know it, it sounds like a Ferelden orgy and you're thinking about making mabari pot pie.

Anyways, dreams. Screaming. There was a lot of screaming, and her dreams sucked.

They had been shitty for some time without reprieve, no matter how many times Nightmare asked her to stop shrieking incoherently and talk to him. It did not make for restful nights. Even with her mum here, Effie's temper had been severely strained, which had come to people's attention when she'd nearly strangled to death the man who brought her her lunch.

In her defense, he'd been breathing really loudly.

She knew Cassandra had gone to the dragon, because they were pals or something, which was the only bloody reason he'd agreed to help her again. Which he wouldn't stop reminding her of. Over. And over.

And over.

"I get it, you hate me!" She informed the fade, which shifted restlessly around, agitated. It was Haven again, but it wasn't, and she didn't care enough to analyze it. "Okay? Gotten. I've gotten it."

She could go deeper into the quagmire of Solas being completely into her, you know, sexually, but she really wanted an actual night's sleep. This time maybe she'd antagonize him just enough instead of going all the way.

Silence reigned, and the fade calmed, idly shifting with the beat of her pulse. She wasn't quite sure why she couldn't see him, but like before, didn't care enough to hunt him down.

"Your mother attempted to measure me for a sweater today."

"Hah! Yeah. You're a challenge." She declared lazily, staring at the shifting ceiling above, trying to trace the patterns as they moved. "You might say it's impossible, but that'll only make her try harder. My mom's awesome."

"I would hardly underestimate her, considering the child she raised," Solas replied smoothly, and then quickly added, before she could think he was complimenting her: "I still cannot comprehend how you became the thing that you are. You would think that your clan would hold some clues to what could possibly have made you into what you are, but no. They are remarkably ordinary."

"I'm gonna assume you mean, how did I get so fucking awesome, and let me tell you, it wasn't fucking easy." She replied lazily, eyes slitting closed again. Closing her eyes in a dream never stopped being hilarious. "Being awesome...being awesome, Solas, is a journey, not a destination."

"How profound," he replied dryly, voice flat and hollow. "Thank you for sharing your wisdom with me."

"No problem," she replied, and then grinned. "Look at us, all getting along. This is great. Really great. Wanna make out?"

"...No." The word was snapped, and she snickered quietly until he spoke again. "I hesitate to ask, but...how do you plan to even do so?"

"Solas..." she began, in her best lecturing tone.

"Stop. Please forget I asked," he interrupted hurriedly.

"Solas...if you try really hard...you can make out with anything." She ignored his short, sharp sigh. "It's like fucking. With some ingenuity, and a can-do attitude, you can put body parts in other body parts. Or, sometimes you can put things in body parts that aren't even..."

"Be silent!"he demanded, and she burst into cackling, hoarse laughter. "We are leaving for Orlais tomorrow, I suggest you consider having had an actual night's sleep instead of chasing me off to leave you to the whims of the Nightmare."

"Euuuugh," she grumbled, nose wrinkling. "Why are you going to Orlais? Won't they kill you on sight?"

"I had not planned on entering any of the cities, I assure you."

"Yeah, no sh..." She abruptly yelped as everything snapped out of focus, leaving behind darkness.

And pain.

A lot of pain.

Tumbling out of the bed, she landed on the floor with a heavy thump, groaning. Head first, of course, with her legs still over the side of the bed, which meant she had a bloody lip and an aching skull. Great.

It's not like she hadn't taken a punch to the face before, but usually she was awake for them. Lifting a hand to her mouth, her eyes fluttered open blearily and she wiped blood away. Normally she'd be on high alert, but they hadn't followed her down to the floor. Making a point, not trying to kill her.

Finally she shifted her gaze upwards, squinting at the woman standing on her bed, hands on her hips, and a death glare on her face. Pretty, in an 'I'm going to kill you' sort of way.

Warden armor. Oh. Hah...

Uh oh.

"Where the hell is my husband, Inquisitor?" the Hero of Ferelden asked, ignoring the guards as they finally burst through the door below.

Husband? Oh, right. The crying one. ...Shit.

"Listen." She held up both hands defensively as Commander Fabulous and his merry men came thundering up the stairs, only to pause and gape. "Okay, listen? So maybe he's in a realm of unending torment in the fade, being held captive by an ancient fear demon that's sort of every nightmare made real, but it's cool. He's fine."

The Hero was turning red now. Also reaching for her sword. It'd be a bad idea to kill her, right? It was hard to remember, and Effie was getting really, really tired of having to stop herself from killing people when they threatened her life. Or just people in general, really.

"At least he's alive!" she pointed out, glancing sidelong. Of course Cullen wasn't going to interfere. Princess was terrified of girls. "Shit! Okay, okay, okay! We're going to some sloshy-named place where Orlesians are conveniently slaughtering each other. We'll pick him up on the way, fuck!"

"You had better," the Hero hissed, releasing the hilt of her sword and turning to jump off of her bed. The soldiers scattered like ninepins as she approached, which Effie could appreciate. "I'm going to see Leliana. Hurry up and get ready. We're leaving."

"Everybody's so fuckin' jumpy," Effie groused, wiping blood from her chin and then licking the corner of her mouth. "Shit. I wonder what's for breakfast."

"Don't you think you should be getting ready to leave instead of eating?" the Princess of Overdone Battlefield Hair suggested, in his usual fashion. By which she meant he acted as if he was waiting for her to jump up and tear out his throat with her teeth. "I will have the men ready the horses."

"Cullen, you stupid ass," the Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, leader of the armies of the faithful declared, "breakfast is the most important fucking meal of the day."

If she had come back here one more time, someone was going to die.

Not Effie, obviously. Probably just some random guy, whoever was in stabbing range at the time. She was murderous, not melodramatic. Big difference there. But someone would have to die, at least to prove her point.

What that point was?

Well, she could figure that out after the murders.

Generally directly after murder people were screaming and freaking out anyways, so that gave her a good chance to think of a plausible-sounding reason why she'd just stabbed the shit out of someone.

Sadly, stabbing a giant, ancient fear demon would probably just make him think she was flirting again.

"Okay, so...I'm just here for my stuff. We don't have to make this weird," she suggested, holding up both hands. It was hard to keep her voice calm with her knees practically knocking together, but she did her best. "Let's not make this weird."

I have made nothing...weird.

Once again, she had to give Nightmare props for the dramatic pauses, he really had them down. And the enunciation. If only the voice wasn't connected to all the rest of it.

"Okay, well..." she started again when it became clear he wasn't going to keep going. "Can I have my stuff?"

It was hard to focus with a sword between her shoulder blades, especially since if Cousland wanted to actually kill her, she'd have to aim slightly to the left. Inefficient threatening was really fucking annoying. Oh, she might sever the spine, but that wasn't a guaranteed death at all.

The silence continued, pointedly, the cavernous, eldritch surroundings swaying slightly as if seen underwater. It was sort of gross. She hated the Fade.

"The Fade is dumb," she mentioned offhandedly, because it was always fun to annoy the dragon.

Offended silence was her answer at first, and then a long-suffering, gusty sigh from Solas. She knew the gorgeous silence wouldn't last; he couldn't resist the opportunity. Predictable.

"I could not expect you to comprehend the myriad beauties and wonders of the Fade. It is wholly unsurprising that you..."

"I've killed dragons before," the Hero of Ferelden mentioned, hostility dripping from her words. "I killed the Witch of the Wilds, you know. She was a dragon. I killed a dragon they called Andraste. I've killed lots of dragons. I like killing dragons. One more will not bother me. Where is my husband?"

I do not understand why they are here.

"Because if I tried to come by myself I'd end up stabbed, and the dragon has a Fade-boner, I don't know. Can we please have the whiny Warden so we can get out of your way?" Effie pleaded, grimacing as the sword jabbed just a little harder.

I said that I wished to talk. I do not wish to talk while they are here. Your complete lack of respect for my needs is one of the most severe problems facing our...relationship.

The sword was right there. If she threw herself backwards and angled a little to the left, she might be able to get it through to her heart. It was a slim hope, but it was there. On the other hand, biting off her tongue and swallowing it might work, if she could bleed to death fast enough. If she started now, she might be able to get through it.

"You really need to stop listening to that pride demon. Why do you try to make everything about you? What about me? What about what I need? This isn't just about you!" Gag. This was only slightly better than death. Slightly. "Why are you being so selfish?"

I...I am not.

"No, of course not. Keeping me here by not letting me have my stuff back is sooo healthy. You're doing such a great job." The sarcasm was a little desperate, but she was starting to get tired of the sword jabbing her in the back. Time for the killing blow. "I've got to be honest? I really don't like the person you're becoming."

The silence stretched on, distant screams barely heard, the skittering of unseen insects quieting. At least the sword wasn't jabbing her quite so hard, but that was because they were all waiting, expectantly.

Finally there was an abrupt distortion in the air, and Alistair, bruised and battered but decidedly alive was deposited on the ground, wild-eyed and stunned. The sword left her back and Cousland shoved her out of the way, running to his side.

If they kissed she was gonna vomit.

I believe I require some time to think.

"Okay. I can respect that," she replied, as if she wasn't fucking jumping up and down for joy inside her head. "I'll leave you be, then."

Perhaps I need to focus on working on myself.

"Okay, yeah, sure." She backed up towards the dragon as Cousland grabbed the whiny warden by the arm and dragged him to his feet. "I think that's a good idea."

I have heard very good things about meditation, for clearing the mind. I could look into that.

"Yeah. So I'll just go...and let you get started on that. Good luck on the...betterment."

She really didn't want to hear any more. Well, she hadn't wanted to hear it from the start, but she was even more over it now, if that was possible. Nightmare didn't know when to fucking stop talking. Heading back for the rift that they'd entered through as quickly as possible, she ignored the dragon's sidelong look, fingers flexing into her palm.

"Not a fucking word." She muttered to Solas, who gave a draconic snort.

"I am simply surprised. I never thought I would feel sympathy for a fear demon." He replied, as she tore open the rift again, the Wardens immediately staggering through, Cousland's face set in grim lines. "Your powers of manipulation never fail to horrify me."

"Yeah, well...you have a big ass." She replied, watching it waddle away. "Stupid fucking dragon."

Following, she sealed the rift closed behind her, reappearing where they had left.

Ugh, the Dirth. The Dirth was full of shems. Granted, everywhere was full of shems these days, it seemed like, and they wouldn't let her murder them. She was surrounded by boring-ass shems and she was in charge and they still wouldn't let her do what she wanted. Rescuing people? Stopping wars? If she fucking kept this shit up, she was going to turn into some sort of jelly-spined loser.

Being the Inquisitor was becoming less and less fun by the day.

She'd have to shake things up a little.

Moving and organizing files from laptop to desktop and I found the Ancient Vault (the old deleted fics and whatever else I was working on at the time) to poke around this afternoon. What do you want to see? It'll be a surprise for both of us, because this is how I title things.

[mcmoryfound]

[ ...the urge to remake is strong again. fuck. ]

[ageless-soul-au]

got a curious question about the heroes— what languages can they speak? or understand in case they can't speak it for whatever reason?

Most of them just speak Hylian and Hylian Sign (bc sign language is considered a different language bc it has different structure and grammar even tho we don't write it out like that) but here are the heroes that we know are at least a little multi lingual.

Legend could call himself a fucking polymath at this point. He knows Hylian and Hylian Sign fluently ofc, and can read/write Lorulean since it's the same as Hylian, just mirrored. He can read Mudoran but isn't sure about the pronunciation since it's a dead language in his time, and is at least conversational in Holodruman, Labrynnan, and Subrosian. He's very interested in learning Gerudo currently, so that might be another one added to the list eventually.

Cinder knows Lorulean fluently since he's from there (written Hylian was the real challenge for him but he got it).

Time knows some Gerudo and Gerudo Sign, probably just conversationally, but he's illiterate so he can't read or write anything.

Four knows Picori fluently bc of the jabber fruit.

Hyrule is fluent in Fey, though they shouldn't speak it around normal people if they want those individuals to stay sane.

Fae probably knows some Fey as well, just what she needed to for getting through her quest.

Twilight knows how to read Twili, and Midna has tried to teach him some, but he has trouble getting around his accent for pronunciation.

Wild knows Sheikah, both ancient and modern, and would like to know the Zora/Rito mother tongue but it's p much impossible for them to produce or even decipher what all those clicks and whistles mean. Sidon appreciates his little Hylian's desire to connect but it just won't happen and he thinks them trying (and failing horrifically) is very cute.

Odyssey is fluent in Gerudo! And he's probably trying very hard to learn Gerudo Sign, but not quite fluent in it yet. He can talk to his boyfriend in his native tongue and that's good enough for now. (And on that note, Legacy probably knows both Sheikah and Gerudo.)

Champion probably knows at least some sign for all the major races just in case. He takes his guard job very seriously, and being nonverbal needs some workarounds in case not everyone knows Hylian Sign. He doesn't wanna end up playing charades.

Wind probably has picked up some Rito birdcalls, both bc he's friends w Medli and Komali, and having an alternative to pirate code with Tetra can be useful. Nothing like. Truly substantial tho.

Sky has maybe like. Some Lanayru mining robot translations lying around in a book somewhere in case he needs it.

Wars knows bits and pieces of a certain language his mother used, doesn't think very much about it. He should maybe talk to Legend....

And that's about it! TLDR most of them know at least snippets of another language according to need.

-Kio & Mizu

[mass-piplup-outbreak]

End of the Line - Chapter 8

[first] - [previous] - [next] read it on ao3!

Chapter 8: Back on Track Ingo and Emmet balance life and death.

Emmet breathes a sigh of relief, slumping back in the seat he’s chosen in the 21st Double Line car as he shuts off his Xtransciever. He can feel the rumble of the wheels below his feet, gently jostling him back and forth. Save for Chandelure, and by extension Ingo, he is the sole inhabitant of the car. Which is good because he doesn’t care if they see him nervous like this.

The thing is, Emmet likes Elesa. She’s been a friend to both him and Ingo for the better part of a decade. Embarrassingly enough, he even had a small crush on her when they were kids, a fact that Emmet is not eager to remind his brother of. Needless to say, Elesa is one of his best friends, but…

How exactly is he supposed to explain this to her?

Ingo’s pen pokes the side of Emmet’s head, shaking him back to reality. “Sorry. Did you want to talk?

Emmet opens the journal—which he had left on the seat next to him when he boarded the Doubles Train—to the next mostly-blank page. There’s a small doodle at the top of the strange long Sneasel that Emmet saw in the history books. What did that lady say it was again? A regional variant?

Just below the picture, the pen carefully writes out a message.

Hello.

Emmet’s smile softens as he looks at the empty space he thinks his brother is occupying. “Hello Ingo.”

Verbalizing it almost makes it settle in just how weird the situation is. Ingo is dead, Emmet’s been mourning him for more than a month now! And yet, he’s still here. Literally, right here, in the same car as him! It’s so wonderfully impossible, like the last bit of hope that he had was vindicated. Ingo would never leave him. Ingo is never going to leave him.

Waiting for a challenger has always been the most boring part of running the Battle Subway, at least in Emmet’s opinion. He almost asks Ingo how he used to deal with it when he was by himself on the Singles Line, but he falters when he realizes his brother probably doesn’t know the answer.

At the very least, neither of them have to be alone anymore.

Did I also work here?

Emmet’s never been great at hiding his emotions, so Ingo can probably tell that this question is absolutely devastating. Ingo doesn’t remember Gear Station. The place he always dreamed of working, the place he took care of and took pride in, was just gone. The subway meant absolutely nothing to him now, didn’t it?

“Yes!” Emmet answers too quickly. “I mean. Yes, you did. You ran the Single Lines by yourself, and we ran the Multi Lines together.”

Ingo seems to consider this for a moment, if his brief pause is any indication.

Different lines?

“On the Single Lines, you would engage in one on one Pokémon battles!” Emmet explains, slipping into a script he uses for newcomers to the subway. “Here on the Double Line, my opponent and I each send out two Pokémon at a time for battle.” He holds up two fingers to accentuate his point. “And on the Multi Lines, we would battle as a team against a pair of trainers.”

Of course, Emmet leaves out the key detail that both the Single and Multi Lines have been indefinitely changed to solely commuter lines. It just wasn’t the same without Ingo.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Emmet hoped that calling themselves a “team” would jog some kind of memory for Ingo. Maybe it’s selfish to try and rush him like this, but he can’t bring himself to ask just how much Ingo remembers in the first place. If they could skip over that conversation in some way, then…

With this line of questioning apparently finished, Emmet decides it’s probably best to broach the topic now.

“Ingo.” Emmet leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. He idly traces the edge of his Xtransceiver with a finger. “Do you want other people to know about you?”

There’s a second where his brother doesn’t react, and Emmet worries that perhaps he’s misstepped. This may be Ingo, but he’s not the same Ingo from before. He spent a whole life somewhere that Emmet can’t even begin to imagine. Doubt creeps into the back of his mind, like something dark and unseen clawing at him.

Does Emmet truly know Ingo anymore?

Not yet, Ingo finally writes.

“Okay.” Emmet nods. “When do you think you will be ready?”

Missing pieces. I want to remember more.

Well, he’s certainly getting better at writing.

Ingo seems determined to recover his memories, if his behavior over the past few days is any indication. The last few pages of his journal are filled with questions, all of which he should know the answers to.

It tears Emmet up inside. Every question cements it for him, the fact that Ingo lost everything. How can they fill in the cracks when they’re this big?

“I will do my best for now,” Emmet promises. “No one will know.” He mimes zipping his lips shut to accentuate his point.

Ingo draws a crooked smiley face, a little shaky and not-quite right. Even when he tries, it seems like he still can’t master a smile.

And just like that, the topic is dropped.

‥

To simultaneously be invisible to the naked eye

and

have one’s presence acknowledged is a very strange state to be in. Ingo hasn’t exactly had a conversation with anyone in the last 300 years, so maybe he’s not the best at this to begin with. He can’t exactly blame Emmet for not being able to see him, especially since he didn’t know anyone aside from Chandelure

could

until just a few days ago. But still, the way Emmet’s gaze seems to pass through him, like he’s not even there…

Well, it hurts.

Emmet is trying, though, and that’s probably more than Ingo deserves from him. He’s the one who barged back into his life, after all.

When they return home from the subway, Emmet practically collapses onto the couch, an arm draped over his eyes. Ingo lingers by the front door, wondering if he was also this exhausted when he got back from work. Maybe he drank enough coffee to get him through the day. Maybe Emmet has simply been tired lately. This isn’t something Ingo would blame him for.

After it becomes apparent that Emmet is not getting up, Ingo decides he should probably find some way to entertain himself in the meantime.

“Chandelure, what did I used to do for fun?” Ingo asks.

Chandelure narrows its eyes, considering his question for a moment. Obviously, Ingo is a bit limited in the number of activities he can take part in, but surely there’s something do. Right?

Quite suddenly, Chandelure nudges Ingo towards the TV stand. He’s a bit unsure what it’s trying to do, but he gets an idea when it uses Psychic to pull out a few DVD cases.

“Oh!” Ingo’s eyes light up. “Movies! Bravo Chandelure, that is an excellent idea! Allow me to review our choices here…”

He skims over the covers. One depicts a giant Carnivine—bigger than the Alpha one that always lurked around the Lonely Spring—with people trapped in its vines. Another has a close-up shot of a decrepit looking Banette, all torn up like someone abandoned it in their attic with its face obscured by shadows. The final DVD showcases a Pokémon that looks like a stout Rapidash with fantasy elements in the background, like a wizard and a castle.

Emmet abruptly sits up on the couch, staring straight across the room at the two of them. Ingo feels a twinge of guilt in his chest. He didn’t mean to wake his brother, especially so soon after he settled down.

“You want to watch a movie?” Emmet reasons. He awkwardly scratches at the stubble on his chin. “I should have offered before now.”

Ingo can only guess what Emmet means by that, but he wants to tell him that it’s fine. It’s not like he was suffering without them, he barely even remembered movies until Chandelure brought them out! But Emmet snatches the journal and pen from the coffee table, only placing them in front of himself once he’s settled on the floor with them.

“What did you want to watch?” Emmet asks. “I can put it into the player better than Chandelure can.”

Though this receives an offended pout from Chandelure, Ingo knows this is probably true. While his Pokémon’s telekinesis has been incredibly helpful, its fine motor skills do leave something to be desired. You can’t expect the most precise movements from what is essentially a chandelier.

Ingo picks up the pen from the floor.

Scary movie?

Emmet winces reflexively, clearly eying the two horror DVDs. Ingo almost scratches the suggestion out. He shouldn’t have expected his brother to like scary movies just because he does. That Rapidash film also seemed like it could be good, right?

Before he gets a chance, though, Emmet grins. “If you want to watch a horror movie, then we will watch a horror movie!” He grabs the Carnivine movie from Chandelure, who grumbles at the intrusion. “You love this one.”

Well, if anyone knows what sort of media Ingo likes, it’d be Emmet. He taps the movie with the blunt end of his pen, and Emmet’s smile grows even wider. It occurs to Ingo that he might be forcing it, but then again, how would he be able to tell?

He’s quiet as Emmet cracks open the case and slips the disc into the player. It’s not like he’d be able to hear him, anyway.

‥

Emmet opens his eyes somewhere that is dark and white. Flurries of snow whip around him, the cold biting at his cheeks. Everything that surrounds him is hidden by the night and the snowfall.

Someone has fallen over on the ground in front of him. Emmet knows who this is. He looks just like he remembers.

“Ingo!” he shouts, scrambling to his side. Emmet rests his brother’s head on his lap, ignoring the blood that stains his gloves as he does so. By the swords, he’s practically frozen solid! He pats the side of Ingo’s face to try and wake him. “Ingo! I’m right here!”

For a moment, it seems pointless. Ingo does not rouse from his sleep, and Emmet can’t help the sob that rakes through his body as he pulls his brother even closer. No, no this can’t be happening!

“Please,” Emmet begs, because it’s all he can do now. “I can’t lose you again!”

Just before he completely gives up hope, Emmet hears a sudden gasp from the body in his arms. Like Ingo just remembered how to breathe. He groans in pain, but Emmet can only focus on the fact that his brother is alive!

“Ingo!” Emmet’s smile returns to his face. He pulls Ingo close, hoping to spread some of his warmth. “Do not worry! I found you! Everything is going to be okay!”

When Emmet speaks, Ingo looks up to him. There’s blood all over his face, from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his chin. But hey can fix that, right? He just has to get Ingo somewhere warm, somewhere a doctor can see him. He’ll be fine!

The eyes that meet Emmet’s hold absolutely no fondness. Ingo looks at him like he’s a stranger. In the seconds before he speaks, Emmet already knows what he’s going to say, and he dreads those words.

“Who are you?” Ingo asks, and Emmet’s entire world freezes in place.

Emmet startles awake, choking on his own breath. The first thing he feels is a painful throb in his head, which causes him to instinctively bring a hand to his temple. As he sits up on the couch, he inadvertently shifts the blanket that had lovingly been placed on top of him.

It’s dark in the living room, save for the blue light from the television. Chandelure and Excadrill are strangely interested in the title screen Little Carnivine of Horrors had reverted to once the movie ended, but it only takes a second for Emmet to figure out why. The screen suddenly dissolves into static, as though the connection to the DVD player cut out for some reason.

Excadrill jumps up and shouts with joy, the sharp noise doing absolutely no wonders for Emmet’s headache. Haxorus, who has notably not joined the audience and is instead sulking in the corner, seems to share this sentiment, grumbling a warning at her teammate. In response, the static fades away, and the movie returns.

Okay. Ingo can apparently fuck with electronic signals. That shouldn’t cause any problems, right?

“Play nice, Haxorus,” Emmet reprimands her. However, this only seems to annoy her further, as she immediately stumbles to her feet and storms out of the living room.

That’s probably something they’ll have to deal with. Emmet lifts his Xtransceiver to check the time. 11:36 PM.

“Chandelure, Excadrill,” he turns his attention to his brother’s other two Pokémon. “You two are up late. You need a full night’s rest to run properly tomorrow.”

Speaking of, tomorrow is a day off. Not that Emmet should be encouraging reckless sleeping habits from any of their Pokémon, but at least they don’t have work in the morning.

Excadrill chirps something to Chandelure, who whispers soothingly in response. Then, in a manner that reminds Emmet of when he and Ingo would leave for school when they were children, he sadly waves goodbye to the empty space in front of the TV. The pair of them sulk off together.

Well, darn. It seems like Emmet can only ruin a good thing.

Even on his own now, Ingo returns to staticking out the TV. Fuzzy, then clear. Clear, then fuzzy. Emmet groans as his headache returns in full force. He stumbles off the couch and into the kitchen, blindly fumbling through their medicine cabinet until he comes upon the pain meds. Before he gets a chance to put them in his mouth, though, he’s interrupted by a squawk from Archeops, who has a glass of water grasped in his talons. He hadn’t even realized that he was being followed.

“Thank you.” Emmet takes the water, taking a sip and swallowing the pills along with it. He sighs. “You should also be asleep.”

Archeops lands on Emmet’s shoulder and nuzzles into the side of his face. He’s always been a sweet one, from the day his fossil was revived. Emmet gently scratches the top of his Pokémon’s head, at which point Archeops is content and flaps off to bed.

When Emmet returns to the living room, he finds that Ingo has left a message in his journal.

Sorry.

“It’s fine,” Emmet waves him off, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. He holds his glass with both of his hands resting in his lap. “Bad headache.”

They’re both quiet. Emmet takes another drink from his water. It might be a placebo, but he can already feel the pain fading away.

“Ingo,” Emmet says, tapping the side of the glass. “How much do you actually remember?”

Ingo doesn’t immediately respond, which makes sense. Emmet just asked a pretty big question, one that he knows he’s not going to like the answer to. At this point, Emmet doesn’t think he’ll believe Ingo if he says he remembers anything beyond what he’s already told him.

Not much, he finally admits. They’re the words that Emmet has been waiting to see.

“Do you remember Elesa?”

I know her.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Ingo’s silence is filled with shame. A cold guilt creeps into Emmet’s chest. He didn’t want to make Ingo feel bad! He just-! He only wanted to-! It was-!

Emmet does not consciously think about his actions. He stands and, from the end table at the side of the couch, he pulls out the album that he and Ingo had taken with them when they moved out. The edges are frayed from both age and use, but it’s been covered in a thin layer of dust.

The title is handwritten on the cover. Neat and cursive, nostalgic. Emmet wonders if Ingo also recognizes it.

Ingo and Emmet Ages 0 to 6

“Here.” Emmet plops back on the ground, next to where he thinks Ingo is. “We should look at this.”

The pen lifts back up as soon as Emmet makes his declaration.

Sleep?

“I am Emmet. I do not have a bedtime,” Emmet says, perhaps a bit too prideful of that fact. “You want to remember. I want to help you.”

Ingo draws another smiley face. It’s way worse than the first one, the line of the mouth overlapping one of the eyes. Emmet has to stifle a laugh.

“Okay.” Emmet truly and genuinely smiles, opening the album to its first page. They’re immediately greeted by a photo of two small, red-cheeked babies bundled up in blankets next to each other. “These weird little worms are us.”

‥

For the first time since he’s returned home, Ingo drifts off to that space between the waking world and sleep. It’s not an escape, not like it was before. Now, Ingo simply wants to take some time to think about everything.

The photos were nice. Emmet went through them one by one, explaining the story behind them all. There was a funny set of photos where Ingo apparently tried to steal Emmet’s pacifier, only to be frantically distracted with a new one by whoever was holding the camera. Not to mention the trainload of embarrassing photos in which they were wearing matching outfits.

Strangely, though, the pictures really pick up in frequency around their fifth birthday. Ingo wasn’t sure whether or not he should ask Emmet about that.

It’s nice getting to know the person he used to be.

Ingo is nudged awake by Chandelure, which is always pleasant. The sun is shining through their windows, and he can hear Emmet messing around in the kitchen. The day is already gearing up to be of the nice, slow, and lazy sort.

Something is different.

As Ingo stands, he realizes exactly what’s changed. He is no longer wearing the uniform he received when the Pearl Clan took him in. His coat is still torn, but now, he’s garbed in a button-up shirt with a tie, the same kind that Emmet wears when he goes to work. He pulls at the fabric, inspecting it closely.

Hm. Interesting.

“Is Ingo awake yet?” Emmet shouts from the kitchen, tearing Ingo away from his observations.

Chandelure offers its spindly arm to Ingo, who gladly takes hold. Of course, he’s then swiftly dragged into the kitchen, where Emmet is busily cleaning up after breakfast.

“Hi Ingo!” Emmet beams, brighter than the sun. “What did you want to do today?”

[be-gay-do-heists]

hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

-----

Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam. 

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

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(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/. 

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”