#it's been 4 months since the last entry though Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[seahdalune]

finally got around reading Expedition Munchmore

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It���s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

[exilethegame]

Writing Update (09/22/23)

Hello everyone! It's been a while since I made one of these, huh? 👀

I've spent the past few weeks settling back into university work, but now I'm back into the swing of writing and developing things. So I thought I would take this chance to clarify some things, and lay down what the future of The Exile is gonna look like.

The Public Demo is now done. Chapter Five is the last chapter that you'll be able to play for free until the game is finished. Right now, I am working on rewriting what is written and porting the game into Twine. This means I'm expanding scenes, adding variation and flavor text, fixing stubborn lingering bugs, and implementing a codex + optional flashback scenes (*cough* and art *cough*) into the game. This will take a while.

I'm not just copy and pasting things into Twine and changing the coding-- I'm polishing things, adding lore and info, and overall just making the game significantly more "put together" so-to-speak. The version of The Exile that's up right now has been the Alpha Version of the game, It's never been properly edited beyond fixing glaringly obvious typos, continuity errors, and bugs. Now, I'm working on actually implementing broader, more complex changes into the game based on feedback I've gotten over the coarse of the past two years of writing!

My hope is to release the Twine Demo at some point around January. But that's a goal, not a deadline. I'll likely take in more beta readers for the Twine version of the game at some point, and post the Twine build onto my Patreon more casually in the following months. I'll delve more into both of things, however, when the time comes.

My hope is to be as transparent as possible and try to be more active on here as I work on things, so expect to see writing updates once more! Though they'll likely be quite short, functioning just to keep you guys updated on what's going on ~*behind the scenes*~

That's all for now, and thanks for reading! :)

Rewrite Progress [Prologue] The entirety of the Prologue is being rewritten and expanded upon.

Expanded the Jamie + Lnyla encounter in the woods (scene has three main variations, and can end in 4 different ways! And Jamie is less of a little brat <3)

[WiP] Expanding Vethna's intro scene-- there are two main variations, and there will likely be more than one way for the scene to end this time...

Added codex entry for magic-users

Added codex entry for Vrithka

Added codex for blood magic

Working on overhauling and simplifying stats (the main focus with be MC's combat stats, along with MC's personality + commanding style)

Debating adding a sort of optional "personality test" that will tell you what mythosi your MC would be based on their personality!

[yumeaoka-chan]

Walls Will Crumble(say the word)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Demon! Hobie x Angel! Reader

Word Count: 8.4k

Tags: Cursing, blood, gore (oops), reunions, flashbacks (it's all coming together), death (it's not that bad, I promise), fighting, scared reader, angry reader (furious even), Billie & Ramona, angry hobie, crying, norman osborn (cuz that mf needs his own tag, ew), degradation (screw osborn, real talk), panic attack?? (kinda, but not really), title based off of Don't Think Twice by Hikaru Utada, no physical description of reader (besides clothing), reader is AFAB, sparse use of y/n (just once, promise)

Summary: A century in the dark. A century of loss. A century of longing and aching… It's high time you get the revenge you so deserve, no? A/N: Credits for the lovely banners go to @the-shroom-garden !!! Another late entry for Octobie @the-kr8tor , oops! Billie, Ramona, and third child belong to Katy! Last part of the au that has been keeping me up for several days now🫠💕💕

Part 1 >>> Part 2 >>> Part 3 >>> Part 4

The sound of knocking at your front door startles you slightly, the soapy dish in your hand falling into the sink. Rinsing your hands off and wiping them on a dry dish towel, you walk into the living room of your apartment slowly. You weren't expecting any visitors, especially since your friends have been out of town. “A business trip”, is what they had said when you questioned why all three of them had to leave together, sheepish smiles on their faces. You'd brushed it off and believed them because they actually did work together at a small local clothing shop. Maybe their boss wanted to treat them for their hard work, you weren't sure. Besides, the guilty look in their eyes for having to leave you for three whole months made you weak and quick to reassure them. Even if three months was an absurd amount of time for a business trip.

Peering out of the peephole, you squint your eyes at the sight of a tall man biting on the long nail of his thumb, foot tapping on the doormat. He looked a little nervous and a bit… familiar. You unlock and open your door just enough to peek your head out, the man's head whipping around immediately to meet your eyes. Piercing golden orbs gaze back at you, warm and glittering and oh so familiar. Your mouth drops open as you hurriedly open the door wider, gazing up at the man before you and raising a hand up to gently rest it on his arm. You never thought you'd see him again. After that night you met, you'd gone to see him again a few days later like you promised you would. Only for disappointment and slight concern to fill your chest at the sight of his corn maze burned to the ground, the soil black with the ashes of the burnt plants. There were no remnants of a scarecrow to be seen, just a few burnt straws of hay laying in the very middle. And though the logical side of you tried to remind you that he was a demon and he'd be fine, you still found yourself worrying.

“Hobie…? Y-You didn’t burn to a crisp…?” You whisper softly as you peer up at his face, noting all the little changes. His face looked shaper and a bit fuller, like he'd finally been eating well. He was taller too, the top of your head barely reaching past the middle of his chest. Long locs spilled over his shoulders and down his back instead of the freeform wicks, shimmering crystals weaved into his hair and hanging from the ends. Hobie sports a leather jacket adorned with several pins and spikes, as well as black combat boots with jingling chains dangling off the belt loops of his plaid jeans. He looks good, beyond good. Amazing. You can feel your cheeks warm up a bit as he chuckles lowly, your heart fluttering at the deep voice you'd longed to hear these past few months. He's tender in the way he grips your wrist and guides your hand to rest on his chest, letting you feel the way his own heart flutters beneath your palm.

“I was a good boy, lovie. No eatin’ any angels, remember?” Hobie murmurs as he leans down just a bit while looking down at you through his long lashes, eyes shining with a fondness to them. You roll your eyes as a smile flits across your face.

“How could I forget? You're a demon with morals”, you chuckle as you step back and nod your head, eyes roaming over his appearance once again. “Modern clothes look good on you.” Hobie grins at your words and moves back to do a little twirl, flipping his locs over his shoulder as he bats his eyelashes at you. It makes a loud guffaw leave you as you shake your head. People walking pass give you both weird looks of judgment and you roll your eyes while taking his hand, leading him inside of your apartment. Once inside, he takes both of your hands in his and pulls you close to him, making you raise an eyebrow in question.

“I know it's been a while, angel. I had some things to take care of back home. But thanks to that, I've finally got all my powers back.” Hobie says with a smile before furrowing his eyebrows, gently squeezing your hands as a flicker of something you can't quite name goes across his face. He lowers his eyes to the floor before bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek. Nuzzling your face in his palm is practically second nature, something in you knowing that this was right. That this was how it should always be. Hobie's molten gaze hypnotized you, his golden eyes swimming with a hint of sadness, a hint of hesitation. Your fingers move to grip the hem of his leather jacket.

“What is it, Hobie…?” You mumble as you feel one of his thumbs grazing your bottom lip. He shakes his head and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as several heartbeats pass between you. Warm lips are pressed against your forehead then, lip piercing cool against your flesh as you melt under his affection. Only, it feels as if your body is suddenly thrown, pushed down into the ground and sinking deep beyond the flooring of your home. You're drowning, the tide is pulling you down into the depths of the abyss. A bubble leaves your lips as you gasp and…

“I'm tellin’ you, love. Somethin’ is wrong with that slimy bastard.”

“Trust me, Hobes. I know…” You sigh in exasperation as you lay down on his lap, the scent of flowers all around you as you both sit in the field of daisies. One of Hobie's hands is buried in your hair, sharp nails gently scratching at your scalp in a soothing way. You can feel your body relaxing as you wrap your large wings around you like a blanket. The sounds of the babbling brook a few feet from your resting area lull you into a sense of calm, much better than how stressed you had been when you came to meet up with Hobie. The demon prince grumbles softly as he brushes a flower petal off of your cheek, frustration battling with the peacefulness of the serene surroundings.

“He's up to somethin’, I just know it. Cause there's no way he's just allowin’ the shit my dad's doing to just happen with no fuss. Startin’ natural disasters, causing war, famine, and disease? Don't even get me started on the monthly demon scares the humans keep talking about…” Hobie sighs and scrubs a hand down his face, anger and suspicion coloring his words as he places his fingers under your chin and tilts your head to look up at him.

“And then there's Osborn’s obsession with you… That I really don't like”, he rumbles lowly, his grumpy expression reminding you too much of a cat. Biting back the giggle that threatens to escape you, you lift a hand up to poke at his cheek.

“It'll pass. Here's hoping he forgets me entirely for someone new. But, you're right. Why is he just overlooking this stuff? The balance is all out of whack. I might have to speak with him about it later”, you mumble, eyes fluttering shut as he leans down to brush his lips against yours. The scene melts away.

You're now thumbing through paperwork, brows furrowed as you try to tally the number of souls that should have been admitted into Heaven. Should have, but are nowhere to be found. Files missing and the count not adding up, you angrily huff and slam the papers down onto the desk. The feathers of your wings ruffle and puff up as you move to search through Osborn’s papers instead, hoping that maybe he has what you're looking for. Thank the stars he's out attending to whatever business he claims he has to see to. If he ever saw you combing through his desk, you're sure his lecture and punishment would have been long.

After minutes of searching, you still don't find the papers you're looking for, a groan leaving your lips as your wings droop a bit. You let out a sigh and pick up one of the files that litter the desk, mindlessly flipping through the pages. It'd do no good to keep searching when you were too tired to do so, a break much needed at the moment. As your eyes flit across the paper, you can't help but notice that it's mentioning the names of the souls that you've been looking for. It makes you sit up straighter, eyes widening as you focus on the context of the scrawny handwriting. A contract. It was a contract. And as you read the full details of what it entails and the signatures written on the very bottom, you can feel your heart thudding in your ears, breath stilling and hands trembling.

Because why in the Almighty’s name did the High Priest think to make a contract with the King Of Demons…?

“ ‘In exchange for the services of aiding in the recruitment of new devotees, I, Norman Osborn, High Priest Of the Archangels and soon to be God of Order, agree to the releasing of the more innocent of souls. A select choice of the finest souls being of infants, virgins, and the highest order of faithfuls shall be bestowed upon the reigning King of Demons monthly, upon completion of aiding the new order. Should either party fail to uphold their end of the agreement, the offender must release unto the other their most treasured possession...’ ”

The whispered words make you sick as you utter them, paper falling from your hands as the information sinks in. It all clicks then. The large amount of disruptions and demon activity on earth, the huge amount of missing souls, the lack of reactivity from the High Priest. Osborn was giving the King free reign to cause havoc, in hopes that humans will see the demons and turn towards faith to pull them through. Faith in a new God who wasn't the Almighty, a God who'd “restore” the peace and order. And all it costs him is the souls of truly innocent people, people and children who earned their eternal rest now damned to an eternal prison. Hobie had been right to be suspicious, right to keep questioning everything. Because now, everything was going to shit.

The sounds of faint footsteps make you jolt, alarms going off in your head as you quickly put the files back in order. You had to tell someone, but who would believe you? Surely not your fellow angels, some who already look at you with jealousy. They could use this knowledge against you, make Osborn punish you for being “disloyal” and falling for “a devil's lies”. No, you had to leave, had to take this with you. Stuffing the papers into your chiton, you quickly open a portal to your hideaway and dart in. Heart pounding furiously, you can feel yourself breaking down when you see Hobie already sitting in the circle of flowers, lying back with his hands behind his head. It's like he can feel your presence when you arrive, body already turning in your direction. He smiles warmly at you and you feel the dam break, hot tears dripping down your face.

Hobie's next to you in an instant, smile gone and eyebrows knitted with concern as he cups your face in his hands, thumbs wiping away the tears that continue to fall.

“It's awful, it's awful, Hobie. It's terrible”, you sob as your hands cling to the fabric of his shirt, chest heaving as you gasp with your words. Lips press against your cheek and his deep voice calmly shushes you as he wipes the tears still.

“Breathe, angel. Breathe. I'm right here. Just tell me what's wrong. What's terrible?” He mumbles against your cheek before pressing another kiss to your forehead and another to your other cheek. Before golden eyes gaze calmly into yours. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you calm the frantic beating of your heart.

“You were right. Your suspicion and everything about how messed up everything is was right… And I'm the one who took the only proof of it away…” You breathe out, hands shaky as you reach to hand him the files. Hobie takes the papers from you with a worried look before silently reading what you handed him. His expression darkens as he reads the full contract, fire licking behind his eyes. Clenching the paper in his grip, he looks around before looking back down at you.

“Who else knows of this, love?”

“N-Nobody. I found it in Osborn’s office when I was searching for papers. This is bad, Hobie. He's planning something that's gonna wreck the natural order of things. Becoming a God… It's madness…” Hobie scratches the back of his head before scrubbing a hand over his face. He looks at you with wide eyes then, a flicker of trepidation in his eyes.

“Listen, sweetheart. We gotta leave here. From the Heavens, earth, the Hells, all of it. Nowhere is safe right now. Osborn is gonna figure out that you're the one who took it–”

“–Because I'm the only person with access to his things…” You mutter quietly, fresh tears welling up in your eyes and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Because even if you were now one of the strongest angels besides Osborn, there was no way you could fight all of your peers and make it out alive by yourself. Hobie pulls you close at the look of utter despair on your face, arms wrapping around you tightly and burying his face into your shoulder. He rubs at your back as you silently sob, cooing and reassuring you that it would all be okay.

“He's not gonna find us, lovie. I've got a place in mind, somewhere no one knows about, okay? Do you trust me, angel…?”

“I trust you… I love you…”

“And I love you. Let's get goin’, yeah?” The scene melts away.

Laughter fills the air as you smother your daughters in kisses, raining little pecks on their cheeks as they squeal and try to break free. Hobie watches you three with a dopey grin on his face before cooing at his son, watching little Aiden flap his wings and glide over to him. You and Hobie had found a little sanctuary in a realm just beyond Earth, between Heaven and the Hells. Invisible to most everyone besides those who knew just where to search. It was there that you two decided to make it official, your union evident by the rings adorning your fingers. The rings were special, able to turn into a matching pair of tear shaped necklaces, one with a ruby and the other with a sapphire. It was with your union that you were able to bring your pride and joy into this world. Twin girls, named Billie and Ramona, and a little boy named Aiden. When you first held them, you couldn't imagine a life without them. They were perfect and they were yours, you and Hobie's. You vowed to protect them till your very last breath if it ever came to the day that your peace was shattered.

A trumpet blaring rings in the air, making all of you look up towards the source. And that's when you see it, a large swarm of angels breaking through the barrier of the realm, pieces of its shattered remains falling down from up high as they dive down towards your direction. Fear pierces your heart as your girls grip onto you tighter, anxiety shining in their eyes. You turn to Hobie, who holds Aiden close to his chest, before you both run as far as you can with your children in tow. Eyes glowing a bright white, you conjure up a wall of flowering vines that reach miles high and separates you from the approaching angels.

“Run! Get the children and get out of here!” Hobie yells at you as he hands the frightened toddler in his arms over to you, frantic and in disarray. His hands push at your shoulders, forcing you to turn away. This was it. Osborn had finally found you and now your family was in danger. Shaking your head, you plant your feet firmly on the ground, tears stinging your eyes as they start to spill down your cheeks.

“Not without you!” You sob desperately, trying hard to turn around and face him. Only for his hands to be firm in making you flee. You can smell the scent of smoke in the air, chest heaving as you feel your wall of vines now starting to burn. The fire is spreading too quickly, starting to creep towards the hanging vines adorning your cottage. His hands shake as he pushes you to move, to walk. There's fear in his voice, dripping worry that trickles down into you as his hands on your shoulders slowly dissolve into wriggling spiders.

“I'll find you! Just leave, quickly!” Hobie growls before the spiders on your shoulders scurry away, the sounds of him transforming ringing in your ears as you hold your son closer to you. Heat surrounds you now as you lead your children towards the escape route that you and Hobie had made if something like this were to ever happen. Only, to stop and hold your children close to you as the wood of your cottage splinters and crashes down in front of you, burning planks blocking your way. Fire licks at your cheeks as Billie and Ramona cower by your sides, Aiden wailing his heart out. This was too much for them to be experiencing right now. Heart thundering in your ears, you lead them around the cottage, hoping to get to the brook on the other side. At least, then you'd have a chance of getting out of here. Your hopes are dashed as a horde of angels fly down to surround you all, holy swords and staffs in hand as they close in on you. You know you can't escape them like this with your children in tow, can't fight them off with your arms focused on holding them close.

A hand harshly yanks at your hair, pulling you away at the same time that you feel multiple hands forcing your arms off of your children.

“No! No, no! Let me go!” You scream and kick, trying to get back to them, wings flapping harshly. A cry of pain leaves your lips as you feel a hand ripping and tearing at your feathers, blood dripping into the grass below from your damaged wing. You can hear Billie and little Aiden crying, Mona screaming as you're forced onto your knees. Glowing restraints are placed on you, around your wrists and wings, strings of light wrapped tight around your wriggling form.

“Leave my mummy alone!” Mona screams as energy crackles around her, tears falling down her cheeks and little fists shaking with fear. The angels reach out to hold her back, only to hiss with pain as they touch her arm. Your heart breaks at the sight, her power growing wild and out of control with how terrified she is. You shake your head as she reaches out to you, energy crackling around her fingertips.

“Mona, no. Don't–”

“You produced these abominations, little dove…?” The voice makes your body seize up almost instantly, heart thudding so hard that it aches. A cold sweat breaks on your skin and your breath hitches as the hand in your hair gives a harsh yank, forcing you to look up at the man before you. Icy blue eyes bore into your own, a frown painted on his lips. Osborn places a hand under your chin and forces you to look at your children as he flicks his wrist, a large bubble of light shining into existence around them, trapping them. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, wagging his finger at them when Aiden and Billie scream, the powerful sound making their prison vibrate harshly.

“Surely, that devil poisoned your ear and forced himself upon you. You didn't allow him into your bed. Right, my dove…?” Osborn says as he looks you over, but by the way his smile doesn't reach his eyes, you can tell he already knows the truth. With trembling lips and your instincts to protect your young rising, you sneer up at the High Priest with hate flickering in your eyes like an ember.

“You don't care about that. You just care about what I know!” Norman raises an eyebrow and sweeps a hand to gesture at the trembling twins holding their baby brother close.

“Why would I not care? My little dove, now with filth for offspring? And a demon prince who's been frothing at the mouth, trying to make us leave you alone? I am nothing but concerned, little dove.” As he leans in, you take the opportunity to spit in his face, a smirk on your lips as the saliva drips down his cheek.

“Don't you ever call my children outside of their names”, you hiss, the words sounding like a curse between your teeth. Osborn sighs and wipes your spit away with his thumb before more feathers are viciously plucked from your wings. You cry out as warmth dribbles down your back, blood splattering onto the flowers beneath you.

“So, he has poisoned you. A shame. You have such a bright light inside you, the brightest I've ever seen. It's now contaminated, I see.” Smoke forms thick clouds that drift in the air and you can hear Hobie shouting in the distance. Your children crying for you fill your ears as you look up, heart shattering as you watch the cottage you built with love crumble to the ground, flowers crushing and burning under the lit wood. Several more angels come toward you then, a tall cube made of pure light floating behind them. Hobie's snarling and banging on the walls of his prison, skin burning from the holy magic used to keep him at bay. He's snapping his teeth and roaring as his body constantly shifts, little spiders shaping into a swarming mass before wriggling into the form of massive creatures, then going back to him banging against the walls.

The enraged demon's eyes shift to his three little ones being held at bay before drifting over to you. You can see the way his golden eyes morph into seething crimson slits as Osborn raises his staff at you, voice booming loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Little dove, thou bearest a great sin indeed. For permitting a devil into thy bed and giving life to foulblood nephalems, thy light has died. In the Almighty’s name, no longer shall thee be permitted to adorn his heavenly skies.” Your lips tremble and you scream as more feathers are plucked from you, pain making your head spin. Hobie bangs even harder, shouts even louder.

“That's bullshit! You don't speak for the Almighty, fuckin’ snake! Get away from them! Don't touch my family!” The demon roars, all boiling rage and dripping despair. “Osborn! I'll rip you apart!” You can hear as he struggles, trying hard to get to you even as his skin sizzles and the children cry in the distance. A piercing scream rings through the air and now you're falling from up high, tears dripping from your eyes as you gasp. It feels like hundreds of hands are dragging you down, your deadly descent to the ground impending. You reach your hand towards the sky and…

Your chest heaves as you feel yourself finally being snapped back into your body, gasps leaving you as you stumble backward. Gentle hands hold your waist as you clench your eyes shut, the memories flooding you like a tidal wave. With shaky hands, you grip onto Hobie's arms tightly for support as you try to calm down the thundering of your heart. Tears, hot and thick, cascade down your cheeks as you feel your wings, your wings, emerge from your back, one of the appendages almost completely featherless. You reach up to touch your ruby necklace with shaky fingers, your other hand patting Hobie's chest to find his sapphire one sparkling beneath his shirt. And as you look up with teary eyes to gaze into his watering golden ones, you don't speak for several moments. Because finally, finally, you remember everything. Every foggy detail shines under a new light, every missing piece now clicked into place.

“Hobie… My Hobie”, you breathe out softly as you lift a hand to tenderly cup his cheek, heart aching as he nuzzles his face into your palm. His lips tremble as he smiles and nods his head, one of his hands resting on the back of your neck.

“That's right, angel. Your Hobie… Just yours”, he whispers, voice wavering with unshed tears that finally fall as he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss. Both of his hands move to hold your face as he tilts your head back, kisses leaving you breathless and dazed. All of his frustration, all of his longing, all of his yearning. You can feel it all pouring into you, making you press yourself closer as you kiss each other senseless. It's like time stops, the world stilling just for the two of you. Nothing else matters, not when the love of your life, your fate, holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world to him. When you finally break away for air, your hands roam his face and hair, eyes looking him over as if you truly couldn't believe he was with you once again.

“H-How did you find me? Where have you been? Oh my days, where are the kids? Billie and Ramona? Little Aiden…?” Hobie shushes your bombard of questions with another kiss, chuckling at the way you practically melt because of it. Pulling you over to the couch, you both sit down as he shares what happened to him during the century following your fall. Hobie tells you of how he'd been taken to his father by the angels and punished to haunt the earth for the rest of his days, consuming souls his only way of nourishment. He tells you how his friends, Ned, Riri, and Serenity had followed him to earth in order to help get him back home. Of how he had them show Osborn’s contract to a group of angels who regretted tearing your family apart and how his friends went to find you, promising to watch over you as Hobie regained his strength. Hobie reveals how he had to conserve the brightest of souls that entered his maze in order to break the curse placed over him and the maze, how seeing you again for the first time in years had let him know he was finally ready to make his move.

“For the past three months, I've been gatherin’ forces to help take down my father and Osborn. Demons and angels alike, if you can believe it. Becomin’ King gave me the power to give you back your memories and the ability to shape his realm however I like. I've turned it into one we can all live happily in. Like before…” Your eyes soften at his words, the thought of Hobie doing everything he could to reunite your family making your heart swell. His hands caress your cheeks as he looks down at you with pure adoration and burning affection, devotion to you and only you screaming from the way his touches are as soft as silk. Golden gaze, a liquid pool of warmth that you're all too happy to dive in.

“Chaos, Mayhem, and the little terror are at home waitin’ for you, lovie. Why don't we go see ‘em, hm?” Hobie hums against your lips as he leans down to peck your lips once, twice, three times before leaning back just a bit. And everything in you screams to do what he's saying, wanting nothing more than to hold your little ones close and never let go. And yet…

“Not yet”, you mumble quietly, brows furrowing and a small frown on your lips. A grim look washes over your features, Hobie's thumbs grazing your brow to try and smooth the look off of your face. You shake your head and peer up at him sadly.

“Not until we're safe. We'll never be safe while Osborn still lives and I couldn't bear to face them until it's all over. He called them filth…” You say, seething as the memory ignites a fire within you. A need to see the man who dared speak ill of your children and love rot like a festering corpse. Hobie's deep voice rumbles in his chest as he peers at you with slight concern.

“Are you sure, angel? You don't have to fight if you don't want to.”

“I want to. I need to see him bleed. He's done too much harm to not only us, but the balance of the realms in general. We're making that bitch grovel.” You say with a huff, a determined gleam in your eyes. Hobie chuckles and nods his head, pressing his lips against your forehead softly.

“That's my girl.”

The next two weeks are spent at an abandoned building in the countryside planning for the coup d'état, rebel Archangels and demons working side by side to end Osborn’s schemes. Serenity, Ned, and Riri were there when you arrived holding hands with Hobie, all three of them rushing to pull you both in a hug. They rained apologies on you for leaving you alone for so long, which you just dismissed. It was for a good reason, after all. They all help you train your powers again, rusty after having gone so long without them.

“Strange how I still have divine powers”, you mumbled as you dodged a blow to the face from Riri, who growled angrily. For someone who was rusty, you were still pretty good at being slippery. Even if you absolutely loathe him, Norman's teachings truly didn't fail you. Hobie shrugs from his perch on the windowsill, munching on a bright blue fruit that weirdly enough smelled just like coconuts and cream. A fruit from the Hells, no doubt.

“Well, that fallin’ from grace bullshit wasn't at all justifiable, ‘specially comin’ from that wanker”, he huffs before letting out a low impressed whistle as he watches you conjure two whips made of pure light, snaking the weapons around Riri’s legs and yanking them to make her fall on her back. The cambion groans as her head falls back into the dirt, dust settling in her curls. You give her a teasing smile and blow a kiss to her when she flips you off, getting back up with a scowl on her lips. You spend the last few days training and taking walks with Hobie, thoughts drifting to your kids that were waiting for you at your new home. It made you strengthen your resolve, knowing that you had people you needed to protect. You had finally gotten your family back and nothing was going to come between you all ever again.

The day for the rebellion finally rolls around, your heart hammering in your chest as you finish wrapping the sash around your enchanted robes. All black and white ombre with long sleeves that end up wrapping around your fingers, intricate gold vines etched into the fabric. Long black boots on your feet and the ruby necklace shining brightly around your neck, you sigh as you gaze at your reflection in the mirror. Your damaged wings mock you as they flutter uselessly, anger and trepidation swirling in your eyes as you bite your lip. Today was the day. Osborn was going to pay for everything he'd done to you, to Hobie, to your children. To all those unfortunate humans that were unknowingly a part of his dastardly schemes. You were ready to end it all. But why did you still feel so… scared…?

“Almost ready, love?” Hobie's warning voice rouses you out of your musings, giving him a small smile as you turn around to face him. Perhaps it doesn't reach your eyes, because his smile falls as he nears you, golden orbs glinting with sympathy.

“What is it, angel?” He asks softly as he takes your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Breath hitching, you shake your head and sigh.

“I don't know why I'm scared, but I am. Osborn, he's… powerful. What if we fail? What if you get hurt?” Hobie tilts his head and chuckles, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, letting you feel the beating of his heart beneath your palm.

“Feel that? ‘S beatin’ like crazy ‘cause I'm worried too. I'm scared too. I don't wanna lose you again, after finally havin’ you in my arms after all this time.” He wraps his arms around you this time and pulls you close, so that your ear is pressed against his chest. You can hear his racing heart, feel the way his body shakes ever so slightly. Though he did a good job of masking it, he truly was terrified. Terrified of having his reunited family ripped from his fingers like a cruel joke, as though he hadn't suffered enough.

“We gotta believe we're stronger than him, lovie. ‘M gonna fight for you and the kids till my last breath. I promise you, he won't touch you while ‘m ‘ere. Never again.” Hobie whispers into your ear as his fingers tenderly graze the base of your damaged wings, making you choke back a sob. You'd fight for him. For your children, for everything. Until your last breath, no matter what. The two of you share more hushed promises and whispers of reassurance before Ned announces that it's time, the two of you walking back to where everyone else waits. Hobie squeezes your hands and moves to stand on the broken crates in front of your battalion of rebels. Everyone quiets down at the sight of him, standing up straighter and looking up at him expectantly.

“For too long, we have stood by and allowed him to do as he pleases. Too long have we had to endure as he uses us for his benefit. Too long have we watched as he shattered hopes and dreams and destroyed the very realms we work hard to keep from crumbling.” Hobie's words echo in the abandoned barn and seep into your very soul. There's a fire in those gold eyes, an inferno that begs to be unleashed.

“No more. No more will we sit idly while he rips our lives apart. No more will we agree with his outlandish rules that he claims brings peace. Norman Osborn is trying to become what he is not and never will be. A God. A God that is so twisted that he would damn innocents. So cruel that he would allow the killings of children and pregnant mothers.” Raising a fist into the air, his voice booms throughout the building, rallying the unit as they cheer and holler.

“Today, we free our realms from the oppressor! Today, we fight for the right to love, the right to live! Today, we end the snake that dares to claim he speaks for the Almighty! Today, we kill Norman Osborn!” The room erupts into cheers and yells, weapons and claws alike lifted high into the air as portals spin to life on either side of him. Your heart sings, your will strong and spirit invigorated with overwhelming morale. And as the rebels charge through the portals, Hobie takes your hand in his firmly. Sharing one last look, you both run into the portals, giving a roaring cry as you head for battle.

There's chaos all around you as you emerge, blood and bodies already littering the cloudy grounds of his throne room. The clanging of metal and the battle cries of the warriors. Rebels fighting against the ones that serve Osborn faithfully, both angel and demon alike. A scream rings in your ear as an angel charges at you, sword raised high and aimed for your chest. A blur whizzes pass you, Hobie quick to dispatch him with a thrust of his sharp nails to his chest. The angel chokes as blood spills from his lips, crimson ichor spilling onto the fluffy clouds as Hobie throws his body to the side. Something shines in the corner of your eye and you turn to see an arrow made of light aimed for Hobie's back. Brows furrowing and a snarl forming on your lips, you zip to stand in front of the arrow, divine energy crackling at your fingertips. A shield of pure light shimmers into existence in your hands, reflecting the projectile with ease. Clenching the shield in your fist, you pull your arm back and throw, the chucked weapon hitting the angel in the head hard enough to visibly dent her head in. She crumples to the ground as more charge at you, trampling over her body.

Hobie snarls as more enemies charge him from the front, body losing its shape to morph into a swarm of spiders. The spiders wriggle and scurry to morph into a frothing wolf, arachnids writhing to form eyes and a dripping maw that mauls anyone who dares get close to you. In turn, you're covering him from behind, chucking daggers and firing arrows into the hearts of those who dare to harm your demon. One has a blade too close to your neck and swiftly has teeth twisting its head off, Hobie's panther form flickering in and out of view as it lunges for another victim. The sight of a sword aiming for the demon's middle has you shooting out a hand to form a glittering sphere around the offender, fist closing tightly causing the sphere to close in on him until he's nothing but blood and gristle. There's a shout from above and you hurriedly look up as three angels rain divine beams of energy down on you two. With a swipe of your hand, a bubble appears over your heads, absorbing the energy from the blasts. The three look nervous as they see the smirk playing on your lips before you flick your wrist, a devastating beam of light incinerating the offenders. A whirlwind of spiders circle around you as more enemies try to flank you from all sides, the arachnids crawling into every orifice of the angels that they find, eating them from the inside out.

The swarm dissipates, Hobie gripping your arm and pointing to the throne. There stands Osborn, holy staff fighting off and impaling anyone who gets too close. Cold blue eyes almost white with a fury you've never seen as he grips a rebel by the face, skin melting off the bone from his touch as he pours out divine energy to maim and kill. The rebel screams as their flesh bubbles and festers, arm wildly swinging a blade to no avail. And through it all, Osborn’s holy robes remain pristine and white, untouched and unsullied.

His chilling gaze sweeps over to you then, a flicker of a smile ghosting his thin lips as he lifts his staff to point at you, hand flinging away the now still rebel. You grit your teeth as you blast an angel that gets too close to Hobie, eyes never leaving Norman as he outstretches his hand to you. A seemingly kind gesture, if these were different circumstances. But you can tell, can see nothing but the condescending mockery in his icy gaze. Your hands tremble with a mix of fear and trepidation and a glance at Hobie tells you that he's feeling it too. Fear now dissolving into fury and whips of pure light shimmering into your hands, you charge at Osborn, damaged wings flapping hard behind you. The black vortex of raging arachnids follow close behind you, the furious sound of spiders scurrying enough to raise the hair on the back of anyone's necks.

“Osborn!” Hobie roars as the spiders morph and twist into his form, eight sharp spider legs protruding from his back and mouth now adorning a pair of dripping spider fangs. His golden eyes are crimson slits of rage as he extends his claws, close by your side as you both dart towards the smirking Archangel. Osborn lifts his staff to block the cracking of your whip, letting it coil around it and yanking it so that it slips from your grasp. Gritting your teeth, you transform the whip that's still in your hand into a dagger. Hobie uses his claws to swipe at the older angel, who dodges each blow and shoots a hand out to wrench the dagger from your hands like it was magnetized. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he thrust the dagger forward, aiming for the demon's chest and furrowing his brows when his arm is suddenly covered in spiders.

Hobie's form morphs lightning quick, becoming a massive bat with gleaming fangs that viciously bites Osborn’s flesh. Snarl twisting his lips, he goes to swat him away, only for you to coil a chain around his wrist and twist it around hard. You can hear the way his bone snaps, the sound wet and making him howl with pain. He's quick to heal the broken bone, divine energy an aura around him. Heart pounding in your ears, you see Hobie form into a panther in order to rip a chunk of flesh from the angel's calf. Norman drops down to his knee before grabbing your demon by the neck, the inky black fur sizzling in his grip as the panther yowls with pain.

Energy pulses between your hands as you conjure a bow and arrow, pulling the bowstring back and releasing the glistening arrow. It sings as it flies through the air, hitting Osborn right in the hand on your love's neck. The Archangel howls as the arrow pierces his flesh, the arrowhead poking straight through the side of his palm. He lets go of Hobie with a grimace, hand shooting out a powerful gust of wind that blasts your demon several feet away from him. His injured state leaves him open and you take the opportunity to summon a glittering sword that thrums with divine energy, rushing over to him with a furious look gleaming in your eyes. Only for his whispered words to make you seize up, goosebumps breaking across your flesh.

“This is not what I envisioned for you, little dove. You must know that, yes?” Norman says with a kind smile, icy blue eyes devoid of emotion betraying his soft spoken words. Still, the nickname is enough to make you hesitate, make the memories of constantly being harassed and punished by him flood back into your mind all too quickly. Your hands shake and your breath quickens as you try to reign in the feeling of helplessness suddenly threatening to drown you. He's uttered those words plenty of times before, times where he'd lock you into a room and scar you while kissing the marks he left as punishment for not being how he wanted you to be. For not abiding by his rules. For not giving yourself to him everytime he asked. The times when he'd degrade you for failing to master things he'd teach you, yell at you while his hands dug into your scalp. It felt like walls were closing in on you and you couldn't move, your sword falling between trembling fingers as unshed tears stung your eyes.

“Y/N, look out!” Hobie's shout makes you peer up, only for a piercing scream of agony to leave your lips, your quivering wings severed and clutched in the Archangel's fist. Blood oozes down your back and seeps into your robes as you fall to the ground, writhing in pain. Teeth bared and eyes glowing bright with boiling rage, Hobie roars and lunges at Osborn, eager to wipe the sick grin off his face. Norman makes a low sound of disapproval and wags a finger at him before light bursts from his fingers, a beam of divine energy shooting the demon in his chest and leaving a gaping wound. He screams as the light sears his flesh way too close to his heart for comfort, his pained cries making your heart freeze with fear. Your screams of terror for your love almost being killed turns into a roar of white hot wrath that practically boils you from the inside out.

You're a blur of fury as you roll onto your knees and shoot a ray of sparkling light at Norman's thigh, the beam searing his skin and leaving a bloodied hole. You shoot another at his shoulder as you jump to your feet, then another to his side. Wrath incarnate, you litter him full of holes, divine rays leaving chunks of his flesh to drip onto his throne. And as he stumbles back to trip on his self-made throne of gold and ivory, you summon your sword back into your hands. With one last shout, you thrust the weapon deep into his middle, crimson ichor seeping into the white fabric of his robes. Blood and roses scent the air as the fighting of the rebels cease, all eyes watching as Osborn looks into the face of his once highly adored angel.

“F-Filthy sinner”, the dying Osborn says with an astounded chuckle, spitting blood onto your face as it bubbles up his throat and spills past his pale lips. Your chest heaves as you look down at the Archangel, your severed wings still tight in his grip. Blood splatters onto his robe as he coughs, blue eyes radiating malice and contempt as he sneers at you.

“You could have had it all. If you'd been obedient and joined me. I could've reached true Godhood with an angel so pure and bright as you on my arm, in my corner. Now you're nothing but defiled waste.” His strained words almost make you want to laugh and you tilt your head at him, something akin to pity shining in your eyes as you twist the sword deeper.

“You're a fool, Norman. A fool to think you could get away with hurting those I love. Where's all your faith now, when you need it most? Clearly not giving you any strength right now.” You mumble before chuckling and letting the sword dissipate into a flutter of sparkles. There's a low rumble of a growl behind you, little barks that sound close to a laugh. A hyena's laugh.

“This is what happens when you try to play God and disrupt the balance of things.” Is what you mumble as you feel a massive presence looming over your shoulder. Osborn trembles at the sight of the creature behind you, prayers to the Almighty stumbling between his blood speckled lips as he holds out a shaking hand for mercy. You have none to give and neither does the growling form of Hobie, his massive hyena form black and dripping with an inky mist that spreads a terrifying shadow. Drool dribbles from his mouth as he licks at his chops, maw open and ear flicking. Patting your demon's furry cheek, you lean down towards the frightened Osborn, lips near his ear.

“The Almighty hath forsaken thee, High Priest”, you whisper in his ear before stepping back, watching as the hyena stalks forward, the sinister laugh of the creature making the fallen Archangel whimper. Norman begs and pleads for mercy and forgiveness, none that are afforded to him as Hobie descends upon him. Sharp teeth tearing at flesh and snapping bones, claws ripping apart organs and gore dribbling down the throne. And as you watch Hobie devour him whole bones and all, you're suddenly called into a void of white. Eyes frantically looking about, you're shocked at the looming silhouette of an entity gazing down at you. It's massive and towers higher than any mountain you'd ever seen. The entity bows its head in respect, in thanks before you're suddenly forced back into your body with a shaking gasp.

Body shaking and back arching, you cry out as you feel something pushing forth from your back, your spine. It feels like you'll explode if you don't let it out, your eyes rolling as it sprouts free from it's confines. Stumbling and shaking your head to clear the dizziness, your chest heaves before you feel something familiar. A weight that had been missing for years. Hobie's next to you then, wriggling spiders shaping him into his normal form once again. The hole in his chest is slowly closing up, the energy he got from devouring Osborn healing him. His eyes are wide as he looks at you in awe.

“Lovie… Your wings..!” His words make your heart soar with hope and you quickly wrap them around yourself in order to look at them, the action second nature even after seemingly loosing them. A gasp leaves your lips as you look at what has sprouted from you. Large glittering wings that sparkle. As you move them, the feathers switch between a pristine white to a shimmering black, then back again. Any time you moved a certain way, the color changed. And inside your heart, you know who the entity was.

Everything that happens next is a blur to you then, you who were exhausted from the draining battle. The remaining Archangels that sided with Osborn are locked up, plans to give them a chance at repentance being discussed. Ned, Serenity and Riri talk with the rebel angels in their King’s stead, negotiating terms of peace and planning clean up crews on earth. Hobie pulls you into an embrace that seems to make your knees weak, exhaustion making your bones ache as you sag against him. It was finally over. Osborn couldn't hurt you or Hobie or your children anymore. Your love lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the swirling portal that led to your new home, where your children await. Where, after a century of waiting, your life with Hobie can finally be resumed.

[s-4pphics]

rip, halloweekend! (e.w.)

hi😳 it’s my last week as a student and i felt sad so i wrote fratadjacent!ellie lol. literally just wanted to reminisce on party hookups since they’re over for me </3 

wc;cw: 3.4k mmm, MDNI!!, NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL IM VERY BUSY LOL, all ocs r black coded y’all see it, mentions of (faux)blood and vomit like once, alcohol weed it’s a party duh, 21 and tee grizzley promo like pay me, girls kissing🤭, dubcon(every1 is faded af lol), ellie’s sleazy, mentions of orgies and anal? uh oh, ellie’s so cocky <3, dirty talk, fingering, eating out no mcdonalds, spanking ass and tits lol, okie yeah dassit <3 

everyone say thank u to the loml @fandomshitpostingqueen 4 the title :3

Your school always turned up and out for Halloween. 

You and your friends had been complaining about how trash the parties have been for months, but now the streets are littered with people dressed as bare as possible in the freezing cold. They were all shotgunning beers in the middle of the street, blasting trap music through their portable speakers, throwing up everywhere. 

And you were so excited! This was going to be fun. 

You never particularly liked going to frat parties: their houses were never clean, it was always boiling hot in the basement, and the cops almost always showed up to shut the entire place down (only for another party to blow up in the early hours in the morning, and they shut them down, too! Fuckers!). But after your first ever mind-numbing, toe-curling, drunken fuck with… her at the Alpha Sigma Phi house in September last year, you hardly ever stepped foot in clubs again. 

You two weren’t super close even though you fucked on and off, but you were friends with her housemate, Riley, so whenever she invited you over, you would discreetly watch Ellie silently making cereal—high out of her mind—in only her sports bra and gray sweats. You hadn’t seen her since the start of the semester, when she’d dropped off your wobbly, highly intoxicated roommate with after she’d snapped you a hey. ur roomie drank alooottt and is really fucked up rn imma drop her off leave the door unlocked pls lol. 

It was a mystery how they got past your building's security since your roommate could barely hold up her I.D. according to Ellie, but you didn’t press since she seemed in a rush to get back to the party she was at. She quickly laid your friend in her bed before throwing you a quick see ya! before fleeing out the door. You didn’t even have a chance to properly look at her before your own door slammed in your face. 

And now here you are, standing in the frat entry line freezing your ass off in your slutty, glittery angel costume with a cheap, but feathered halo atop your head. Your dress barely passed your thighs, and your white, lace-up heels were getting scuffed on the concrete. You didn’t even want to be an angel, but your friends forced you to match with them with their demands of Were gonna be Charlie’s Angels, bitch I’m not playing!, to which you’d argue, they weren’t actually angels, clown! But after three days of consistent glares and pleading from your googly-eyed group, you gave in. 

“Bro, I’m so fuckin’ excited. I need more shots, I need more shots! —“

“Can you shut the fuck up, you sound crazy,” your good friend, Cleo said to your… feening friend, Evelyn. A gust of Fall wind blew past all of you, and you shivered in unison. 

“It’s too fucking cold for this shit! If y’all would’ve let me down that Svedka bottle, I would be warm as fuck right now!” Evelyn pressed at both of you between chattering teeth. 

“Bitch, you almost peed in these people's kitchen sink the last time you did some stupid shit like that! In front of everyone!” Cleo scolded with a glare, and Evelyn scoffed before turning away to look at the moving line. Your friend then turned her attention to you. 

“You tryna see your girlfriend?” Cleo said to you with a smirk while she hit her dab, and you rolled your eyes so hard, they almost fell out. 

“She’s not my fuckin’ girlfriend, shut up,” you tried to say as convincingly as possible. They both snorted at your attempts, clearly in denial. 

Your friends always made it sound like you were in love with Ellie when she was brought up. You could admit to having a crush on her, sure, but you weren’t always craving her attention. You let her come and go as she pleased, and you did the same. 

Your thoughts were cut off by some drunk, obnoxious asshole screaming at the two of you to pull out your school I.Ds. You all did, and the door immediately pulled open, and you were hit in the face with the bass from the speakers. You all entered, hand in hand, and watched people dance in masks, people making out, people twerking on the counter. And you all were finally warm. 

You moved through the packed, LED lit house to where everyone was dancing, and you and your friends made a small circle in the middle of the crowded floor. Evelyn managed to snag an unopened bottle of Tito’s from the counter and you, and Cleo stared in shock as she downed three large gulps like it was water. You snatched the bottle from her before she could get any more down, only to take three large sips of your own, before turning to Cleo, ushering her to lean her head back so you could pour some in her mouth. 

You felt lighter. 

Thirty minutes passed, and Cleo was throwing it back on you, and you were throwing it back on Evelyn as she clumsily thrusted her hips into your ass, bottle in hand. Your halo was tipping, you were sweating out your press, and your glittery liner was smudging, but you couldn’t give a fuck. 21 was on, and nothing else mattered. 

Until Evelyn stopped, pulling you up to her chest and sloppily whispered that she had to pee. You shook your head as you giggled, pulling a very high Cleo up to guide her to the bathroom by her iced-out wrist.

The line for the bathroom was so fucking long. What the fuck. 

But you and your friends were finally next. Evelyn was leaning back against the wall as she squeezed her legs together, whining out quiet dontpeedontpeedontpee’s to herself with her eyes shut. You shook your head at her. 

However, you all immediately stiffened when you heard a desired squeal of fuck yes, like that! coming from the bathroom. That’s why y’all were standing here for so fucking long?! So somebody could get their nut?! 

Cleo shook her head with a I know you fuckin’ lying before banging her fist on the door. “Bro, hurry the fuck up! We don’t have time for this shit!”

“Hold the fuck on, damn!” and your back straightened at the voice, eyebrows furrowing. Ohh, shit oh fuck! —

And the door swung open, revealing a very flushed Ellie, lips glistening and eyes tinted pink with a black cloak on, Scream mask in hand. She even had fake blood smeared on her face. And a girl in a devil costume hopping off the counter, adjusting the horns on her head. 

You made eye contact with Ellie, and she froze, only to quirk her slit brow at you, slowly gazing at your attire from top to bottom before reconnecting your eyes. You shivered, and she smirked. 

The demon girl snatched Ellie’s wrist to lead her out of the bathroom as Evelyn rushed in, barely shutting the door behind her. You held Ellie’s searing contact as she trailed behind the girl, nodding her head in greeting as she brushed past you, leaving the hallway. You turned towards Cleo, who’d been barricading the door for Evelyn, shaking her head at you with a knowing grin. You let out a quiet fuck you as she busted out laughing. 

Sometime in the night, you all scurried back to the dance for when First Day Out blasted through the speakers. You have zero recollection of what happened after you ran towards the packed dance floor(all your liquor body-slammed you at once!), but your tongue was shoved in Cleo’s mouth as she grinded on Evelyn, holding her by her thigh to pull her closer. She pulled away, licking your bottom lip as you both smiled before your hazy gaze traveled behind Evelyn, locking with the ones you were conflicted about seeing tonight. 

Ellie was smoking by herself, just watching you. You held her stare as you wrapped your arms around Cleo, drunkenly waving your hand to lure her over. She smirked around her blunt before shrugging, shaking her head no. You sent her a pout. 

“Ellie’s over there,” you bent down to talk in Cleo’s ear. 

She hummed in acknowledgment against your neck, “We’ll be alright. Go see her.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I got her,” She said in reference to a very drunk Evelyn screaming out YOU KNOW I BROUGHT MY KNIFE!

“Text me if anything happens, okay?” You demanded, and she nodded before encouragingly patting your ass. 

You unwrapped yourself from your friend, squeezing through the crowd until you reached a very… calm Ellie. She was leaning back with her head propped up against the wall, doing tricks with every exhale of smoke. You leaned up next to her, shoulder to shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything, but she held her blunt up to your face. You accepted, parting your lips to inhale the smoke as you watched the lit tip shine orange. You pulled away, leaving the remnants of your gloss behind, and breathed in before exhaling away from her. 

You watched as she pulled her phone out, slowly typing something out with one hand as she ripped from the blunt again. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your bra. 

You looked at her suspiciously before pulling it out, unlocking it to open the snap from Ellie.

e: cum upstairs? 

y: 😐

You turned to her and watched her smile before typing. You looked back down at your phone. 

e: lemme give u some imsorry head :(

y: 😐

e: pleek 

y: where

e: upstairs duh 

e: jesses gone 4 the weekend so ye

e: fuckin u in his room lol 

… Who the fuck is Jesse?

You didn’t get an opportunity to respond before you felt her grab your wrist, pulling you into the crowd. You couldn’t help but look up at her frame, loose strands of her ponytail falling out, her dangly earrings, her fucking shoulders, her neck moving every time she looked back to check on you. She looked so fucking good, fuck—

You felt a smack on your ass, and before you could turn to beat the fuck out of whoever it was, you caught your friends giggling at you. Cleo suddenly made her O-face as Evelyn pretended to hit it from the back before they started laughing at you again. You stared blankly at them. 

“Okay?” You heard Ellie say in your ear, lips brushing against yours. You only nodded before turning back to face her. 

You watched as she looked behind you before smiling and looking back down at you with a headshake. She turned and led you towards the staircase. 

She pulled open a door—Jesse’s, you guess— at the end of the hall. It was a bit messy, but you ignored it as she closed the door behind you. 

“Where’s Riley? I haven’t seen her at all,” you said as she looked at you. 

“Dunno.” She replied simply, ripping from her roach. 

“…You got bored quick,” You hoped she knew what you meant. 

“Mhm,” she said as she exhaled before stubbing it out on the dresser. 

And then silence. 

This is awkward. You hoped she would be ripping your halo off by now.  

“You look cute.” 

“You don’t,” you replied sharply. Fuck, yes she does, she always does. 

She snickered at you before kicking her chucks off, “That girl thought I did.” 

You’re going to strangle her. 

“Fuck you.” 

“You’re gonna,” she said as she stepped closer. 

“You’re a slut.” 

“I am,” Another step. She said with a slimy grin. “The dirtiest.” 

You hated how wet that made you. 

“Your friends are funny,” She said with another step, finally in your space as she spoke quietly. “And they’re hot.” 

“I know they are.” 

“Orgy?” She asked with a bright smile.

“Ellie, are we fucking or not? M’feet hurt,” you slurred out, rolling your eyes. 

“You look so good right now,” she said more to herself than to you, it seemed. She’d been so quiet, tone filled with awe. Your face ran hot. 

“Wanna kiss,” She said as she leaned forward. 

You placed a hand on her chest. “‘M not about to kiss you, you were just giving somebody head, like, an hour ago.” 

“So?” She said, grinning wider. 

“The fuck d’you mean so? That’s gross, Ellie.” you said with an agitated tone. 

“Wanna bend you over his dresser,” She said silkily, and it made you clench tight. “Missed you, y’know?” 

You didn’t reply as you looked at her skeptically. She didn’t care, grabbing you by your hips to pull you closer, bodies now flush against each other. She bent down to plant soft kisses on your neck. You would’ve complained, but her mouth felt so good, fuck.

“You wet enough?” She whispered out against your throat before sucking on the wet spot. You threw your arms around her neck, your knees buckling. 

“Gettin’ there, keep kissing me like that,” you breathed out in a shaky whisper. You felt her smile against you before licking over where she sucked. 

You felt her hands travel down to your ass, as she grabbed both cheeks tightly in both hands. You let out a breathy moan at her grip before you felt her slap a cheek, and then the other. 

“Take this shit off,” she whispered out as she hiked your dress over your hips. You pulled it over your head, tossing it near the bed along with your halo. 

“Fuck you, I spent time making this,” you said with a pout as she laughed softly. She grabbed your bare tits in her hands before sucking a nipple into her mouth. You moaned as you peered down to watch her flick it. 

She switched sides, sucking the hardened bud into her mouth while she hummed quietly. Your hips pressed against her.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits,” She whispered against your breast. “Gonna fuck ‘em one day, I swear to god.” 

You moaned at her promise as you felt her slap your ass again before whispering a get over there, nodding towards the dresser. You scurried over as quickly as your heeled feet could manage, tits bouncing with every step. You leaned back against it with your hands propped up behind you as you watched her pull your halo from your discarded fabric. 

“Gotta keep this on,” she said as she walked over, dangling it between two fingers. “For… affect, and whatnot.” 

“Right.” 

“Mhm,” she said as she carefully placed it on your head. “Turn around.” 

You listened without question, and you were faced with your own reflection. Your wet nipples, your rising and falling chest, your wet thong. And her darkly looming behind you closely, all bloody and grinning. Another gush of wetness in your underwear. 

“You know what I think?” She said into your ear, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You hummed out questioningly. 

“We’d make a sexy cam-couple,” She whispered huskily as she licked your ear and you couldn’t stop squirming, pushing back on her as she grinded forward. “I could see it now: ‘slutty Scream murders cute angelic pussy’, we’d get paid so fuckin’ good.” 

“You’re stupid,” you shakily whispered out as she reached around to pull at your nipples. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned back against her, one hand reaching behind you to wrap around her neck while the other dug into her jean-covered thigh. 

She slapped your tits as she messily kissed your neck, sucking more bruises into the skin as she moaned against you. You felt one of her hands disappear from your tits, and before you could move to bring it back, you felt it grab the back of your neck to push you down against the dresser, arms falling in front of you in reflex. Your eyes tore open, and you were met with your sloppy-looking reflection. Lip gloss completely gone, eye-makeup smeared, sweated-out press sticking to your forehead(dammit!), and your halo lopsidedly hanging off your head. 

“Uh huh,” she muttered out as she watched you through the mirror, slowly thrusting her hips forward like she was fucking you and fuck, you wanted to fuck so bad. You hated how you instinctively pushed back on her, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Would make a sexy little pornstar.” 

“Fuck, El, ‘m so wet, c’mon, please! —” 

“Gonna baby, just lemme look at you,” she said back, and you whined, pushing back on her again. You wish she had her dick with her! 

“Make me cum, El, pleeease,” you whined out again, and you felt her slam a hot hand on your ass. You cried out as your cheek seared. 

You felt her slowly pull your panties to the side. You lifted your head to watch her through the mirror: her brows pulled down, her lip between her teeth, and she had the audacity to release a glob of spit on your pussy. You felt a gush of wetness leave you as it trailed down your pussy. 

“You’re so nasty,” you slurred out quietly. 

She reconnected your eyes in the mirror, and she grinned cunningly. You felt her free hand come up to run slow, deep circles on your slippery clit, and you moaned out as your eyes fluttered shut. You dropped your chin on the dresser in relief. 

“Cutest fuckin’ pussy, can tell she missed me,” you clenched tighter gushed wetter at her tone, your pussy screaming missed you so much, daddy! You could tell she noticed when she snickered out a small yeah, you did.

And then you felt her slide a finger in. Your jaw dropped as you gasped wetly, and you hated how she immediately found that spot that makes you scream. Your walls were gripping her finger tight tight tight—

“Fuck, angel, gonna gimme this pussy later?” 

“Fuck yes, ‘s yours!” 

“Yeah? Say it again,” and she dug her finger in deeper. 

“‘S your pussy, daddy, make me cum!” 

She gently pushed another finger in and she grinded them into you, barely pulling out. You hadn’t even noticed that the grip she had on your neck disappeared, her other hand reaching around you to massage your clit. You stayed bent over the dresser so she could hit it deeper, and fuck, she made you feel so good!

Your eyes were glued shut as you breathed and moaned out, but you felt her press kisses all over your ass, biting the cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open as she sat up, slowing down her fucking. She met your eyes to ask, “You ever get your ass fucked?” 

You barely reacted at her bluntness due to your hazy mind, but you shook your head no. She nodded as she pouted. She went back to fingering your cunt. 

“Mmh, you can if you w-wanna, when you take me home later, shit—“

“Who said I was takin’ you home? Hm?” She said and you heard the smirk in her voice. She pressed up against that spot harder as she slid another finger in. 

“Fuuuck!—“ 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes, baby, yesyesyes!—“

You watched her drop to her knees and felt her suck your clit in her mouth and your eyes rolled back and it was about to make you cum—

The sloppy noises of her sucking your pussy and the soppy sounds of her fingers inside you made you hotter, and you felt that burning feeling pulling in your gut.

“El, fuck, baby, I’m gonna— “ 

“C’mon angel, get me wet, want it all over my fuckin’ face— “ 

You couldn’t hear all the nasty shit she was muttering on your pussy as she fucked you through your nut, her lips taking your throbbing clit back in your mouth as she massaged that spot inside you. She was eating you like you were paying her for it and fuck you would if she asked. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good, no one tastes this good, what the fuck,” she said dazed. You knew she was watching your pussy twitch as you rode out the aftershocks on your orgasm, slowly fucking her fingers into you. 

You felt her stand up, slowly rubbing your clit as you calmed down, planting gentle, wet kisses onto your back. 

“You good?” She whispered against you, and you nodded against the desk. 

She chuckled gently, massaging your ass in both her hands before pressing a kiss on a cheek, “C’mon, we’re leaving.” 

You barely could catch your breath, “W’na dance, still.” 

“No, you don’t,” she said, licking up your spine. You felt her press her lips to your ear before she whispered. “Text your friends and tell ‘em we’re leaving. ‘M dropping them off so I can fuck this ass.” 

You shuddered. 

And nodded. 

And she cheesed wide. 

see yall inna week or so lol c:

[roboticchibitan]

(Source)

So I've been LUSTING after these fancy wooden embroidery boxes since I learned they were a thing, right? This box is beautiful. It costs $40 which is criminally low. Some of the other, bigger boxes in this shop cost $80 and they are worth every penny.

And I got to thinking... my gf has a wood burning tool... and I'm pretty sure this box was made with a laser cutter but I bet I could get something similar (though MUCH less complicated because I lack the artistic skill) out of those cheap wooden boxes they sell at craft stores if I used the right wood stain and whatnot.

So over the next couple months I am going to collect what I'd need to make a couple. I found a 4 pack of 12"×9"×3" boxes on Amazon which is a little bigger than the clear plastic embroidery boxes I have. And I don't need all four so I am going to make my gf a custom made fancy wooden embroidery box.

Which means I'm the kind of lesbian who does wood working for their lover which to me is Peak Romance. I'm very excited about this.

The entry costs are kinda high for me but a lot of it is stuff that'll last for a bunch of boxes. And I just think it sounds like a fun project that'll have a VERY satisfying finished object. I'm very excited. If I like it enough I might make some for my friends too. We'll see.

[zaraisnotcool]

A transcribed entry from my diary:

“It’s been 4 months since I last updated. I clearly have no perception of time, feels it feels like a year.

Since then I have finished my first year of uni, to massive surprise, found new friends who I can honestly say I love and I don’t find that often. [redacted gossip]

It’s summer now and two days ago last year I started this journal (and all its 7 going on eight entry’s). Honestly nothing has changed, I got new hair and got my braces off, I still feel the same though.

I have been reading fanfiction since Wednesday Thursday… more precisely I have in total spent: [inset mathematical equations]. 22 hours and 16 minutes reading fanfiction over 3 day. Bitch it hits me in all the right ways

I’m scared of war.”

[tokidokitokyo]

2023年5月31日

TL;DR: Don't feel inadequate if your language learning journey is not the same as that of others. Your path is valid and you are doing great!

May seemed to just speed on by! And now it's time for my monthly Japanese study log. I think this month I felt a lot of shame for not having time to do the big goals that I have set for myself, and seeing people on langblr or studyblr accomplishing a lot of big goals makes me feel inadequate. It's important to remember that your language journey is your own, not someone else's, and there is no shame in going at your own pace. I try to focus on the things that I accomplish and not make the journeys that other people are on into some kind of impossible standard to hold myself to. Look at your own learning through the lens of how far you have come, and you will feel less like you are lacking.

つまり、自分なりに言語の勉強を続いてね。周りの人の道は自分とは違っても、自分でも成長していますね。これからも続きま��ょう！

5月はあっという間に終了です！今からは日本語の勉強日記を書こうと思います。今月は大きいな目標をなかなか進まなくて辛かったです。それに、タンブラーやインスタグラムの勉強垢をよく見てて、なんか自分が足りないって感じていました。日本語や言語の勉強は自分のやり方で自分のペースで進んだ方がいいと覚えた方がいいと思いますから、それを頑張って思い出そうとしています。他人の成長を見ながら自分の成長が足りないなと思うことはよくやりますが、それを辞めるように努力します。一か月や一年前の自分を見たら、今まですごく成長してきたと気づいたら、足りなくないとわかるかもしれません。

My 2023 Goals Progress

I laid out some broad goals for my Japanese study in my 2023 Japanese Language Goals post, so, as always, I start off my update with my progress towards these goals.

1. Read one page a day of 日本の歴史366 (にほんのれきし366) everyday in 2023.

How is it going? Good! I am finally getting back on track after setbacks from late work nights, illness, and vacation time. Since this is a page-a-day study book, I would have preferred to keep reading in order and to catch up on the days I missed reading, but that was physically impossible due to a lack of time in general. So I am continuing on even though I skipped some days because it's good reading practice and I still learn vocabulary and kanji daily.

2. Finish 日本語総まとめ N3 (にほんごそうまとめ N3) workbooks.

How is it going? Good! I have been doing one workbook daily entry per day for at least 2 days a week. There are 4 workbooks (Vocabulary, Kanji, Grammar, Listening) with 6 weeks and 6-7 daily entries per week. I am still on Week 5 out of 6 weeks, but I am progressing much more than I did last year (or the year before that lol).

I take my time with each lesson, reviewing the vocab/kanji/grammar points meticulously, so that I absorb the information rather than just rush through it. Sometimes I already know most of the vocab or kanji or grammar, but other days require more focus. I feel like I am retaining more information by doing it little-by-little, rather than just trying to get as much done as possible in one sitting. In May, I didn't review the lessons afterwards and throughout the week, so I might take some extra time to do that once I finish the series.

3. Review and learn the first 6 levels of the 常用漢字 (じょうようかんじ), specifically the 教育漢字 (きょういくかんじ) up to grade 6.

How is it going? Okay. I have been trying to focus on Joyo Kanji in my kanji reviews, so I went back to Grade 1 kanji to start my review. It helps me to figure out which ones I know well and where I am struggling. Goal: Review through at least grade 3 during the month of June.

4. Read at least one book every two months.

How is it going? Not great. I haven't had the time (nor the motivation) to pick back up the books I stopped in March, and I'm trying to be okay with that ^^; I would like to pick back up one book in June and try to finish it by July. One thing that I am continuing to read is the Gekkan Shojo Nozaki-kun manga series (in small chunks, usually before bed).

5. Improve my speaking and writing by finding a tutor.

How is it going? It could be better. I am going to set a deadline for finally finding a tutor. I just worry that if I find a tutor I won't be able to commit to a regular schedule and I'll just drop off like I have before. I keep thinking if I had more time to search for a tutor it'd be more permanent, but I think I am just procrastinating (shocked gasps from all). There's also a small worry about the financial commitment, but I am going to try to be frugal in other areas to allow for this luxury. Goal: I will find a tutor by June 30th (or at least start making regular appointments with tutors).

I've also added on to this goal that I would like to start writing sentences on HelloTalk so that I can get feedback without needing a tutor. This might help me to get motivated to improve instead of being terrified of making mistakes. Goal: Write one sentence a day on HelloTalk in June.

6. Study Japanese for at least 10 minutes every day.

How is it going? Good! Thank goodness I have been studying Japanese every day for so long that it's not even something I have to think about trying to fit into my schedule anymore.

May Study Log

This month my top study areas were Vocabulary, Kanji, and Speaking. I spent the least time studying Grammar and practicing Writing.

Study Methods I Used in May

Social Media

Not only did I use apps like renshuu.org (flash cards) and Easy Japanese (articles in Japanese) to study in May, I also used Instagram and started back up on HelloTalk. The idea is to interact with social media in a meaningful way by reading and writing in Japanese. I commented on other user's posts and reached out to some of them as well to start a conversation. The only drawback to this method is that you can get lost in endless doom scrolling if you don't focus on what you are there for (i.e. interaction) and just get lost in the algorithm.

Conversation

I speak Japanese daily (with my husband and son) and since my son is starting to speak in 3-4 word sentences and to copy our speech patterns, I am more mindful of what I am saying to him and how I am saying it (for example, using 大変 instead of やばい ^^;). However, when speaking with my husband it is easier to fall into a Japanglish routine with him, to drop formality and be lazy with sentence construction, and to speak in a more masculine way (because I tend to mimic the speech patterns of those I am speaking with). I have recently made a few Japanese mom friends with whom I can practice Japanese conversation. So I try to utilize our play dates by speaking both formal and casual Japanese, being mindful of my interactions, and trying to utilize new words or grammar points. Using Japanese is the best way to improve it, after all. The only drawback is that the conversation practices can be spaced few and far between, so spending time mindfully speaking at home is also important.

Reading

I have been doing far less reading than I was at the beginning of the year, but I still try to read something for just a few minutes a day to practice reading. Either an article, manga, or even just social media, just to keep myself practicing. Like conversation practice, the best way to improve my reading skills is to keep reading. The drawback is that if I try to read a book but then I have to put it down for a while, I forget what was happening or I lose my motivation to keep reading it because I feel like I am not making progress. If reading books is just not feasible due to a time crunch, I find it much better to read something shorter (articles or part of a manga), and I try not to be hard on myself for not reading a whole book when it seems like everyone else is reading tons of books every month.

Going Forward in June

Be continuous with 日本の歴史366

Focus on grades 1-3 of 教育漢字

Start regular italki tutor sessions

Write in Japanese on HelloTalk

Read one of the books I started earlier in the year by the end of July

I've been studying Japanese for a long time and I still feel inadequate a lot of the time. If you have studied Japanese for any amount of time, please be proud of yourself. You've done something that a lot of people only wish they could do. As always, I wish you much success in your language endeavors, and I hope we can continue on this journey together (no matter where our paths take us)!

長い間日本語を勉強しててもまだまだ足りないと思てます。今までちょっとでも長い間でも日本語を勉強している人に伝いたいことは、よく頑張ったね！日本語を勉強したくても勉強したことない人もたくさんいますので、勉強している人はすごいと思います。そして、自分なりにつづいてください。これからも、皆さん勉強の成功と成長を願っています。どんな道でも、一緒に勉強を続きましょう！

[snowy-squids]

Scrapbook

Previous | First | Next

Squidbeak Masterpost

Summary: “Callie always liked to revisit her past- it was a simpler time, and reminded her of times were she wasn’t busy 24/7 between her job making music alongside her cousin, and working with the Squidbeak as Agent 1. One night, she chooses to revisit them once more, in Octo Canyon- a place she hasn’t been to in a long time.”

This is my first time posting writing to Tumblr, so I hope the tagging and formatting is fine. Also, for peace of mind- any romance oriented scenes between Callie and 3/Violet is when both are over 18, and both characters are the same age.

Callie always liked the quiet of the Squidbeak's outpost located in Octo Canyon. Sure, it wasn't the most recent one established, but it was in better condition than the one in Octo Valley. Additionally, it wasn’t in a desert that was as hostile to inkfish as possible, like Splastivlle’s.

It had been what, 5 years since 4 had finally brought her back to the surface she missed so much? Though she doesn’t have many memories of that time. Even with Marie and 4’s (Abigail? That’s what her name was, right?) help, everything was foggy.

She picks up an old scrapbook in the outpost's cabin. She’s been working on it for a while. It’s filled to the brim with photos, alongside glitter glue, stickers, and paper cutouts.

As she flips through the pages, she thinks about the days long gone. The memories she’s held onto over the years.

—————

Callie and Marie were 10 when they entered Calamari County's Folk Singing Contest. Quite young to be entering, but both were prodigies. Or perhaps early bloomers, being able to reliably switch forms at a younger age than most inkfish.

Callie flips through a book of sheet music, singing to herself as her cousin sits on a chair, fidgeting. This is their last practice session before the big day, something the reef squid was worried about but didn't say so. Marie was the more vocal one when it came to complaints, after all.

“Do you think we can even win? I know we've been practicing for months, but they always have hundreds of entries. And a lot of people aren’t even from Inkadia.” Marie says, her voice barely a whisper.

Callie grins. “I know we can do it! Gramps says we've got the best singing voices he's ever heard!”

“He hasn't heard anyone sing outside of us for years.”

The two young squids didn't know at the time that they would win. Nor that they would get a standing ovation. It was the most exciting day of their childhood. Proof that they had talent that could be honed into something amazing.

—————

It was 5 years later when the agent approached them. If there was one thing that was common knowledge, it was that most idols started off young. Sure, exceptions existed, but most got their first deal before they were even 18.

“You just need to sign the contract.” the Inkling says. She had introduced herself as Shy-Ho-Shy, and had taken an interest in the two recently. “I assume you've talked with your parents about this, yes?”

Callie nods firmly, while Marie gives a quiet thumbs-up. Callie bounces from foot to foot, but Marie shows no expression.

“Good. Now, here's a pen. Please know that this is binding and...”

Callie has signed the paper before Shy-Ho-Shy has even finished her legal jargon. Marie follows soon after, a bit apprehensive.

The idea of being recognized was something that Callie somewhat yearned for. She despised her job at Walleye Warehouse. After all, inkfish were not known for their physical strength, and the job paid only a few thousand G above minimum wage. It was hard labor that she only did since it paid the bills.

Perhaps now things could take a turn for the better. At least- that’s what Callie hoped for.

—————

The first day of hosting the news was a nerve-wracking one. Callie had performed for an audience before, it was a constant for what, 2 years now? Time was something that was hard for her to get a grasp on. But this was something that was a big deal- the two would go live to all of Inkadia.

The back of Callie's outfit is laced up, and she fidgets with one of her head-tentacles. She had been growing them out for a while, and perhaps one pro was that she had something to grab onto when she was nervous. She flashes a thumbs-up to Marie, who is finishing her makeup.

“You two will be on air in 10 minutes.” a lobster says as the two walk to the recording studio. Callie holds her head up in faux confidence, hoping that maybe, just maybe, her fear can be cloaked. She is so excited for this, but there’s so much that could go wrong.

The two go to their places, having memorized the script given to them over many days and rehearsals. The dynamic they two were marketed with was the bubbly airhead and the snide straightwoman.

Luckily, Callie could play her role well.

“Action!”

Callie is the first to speak.

“Hold onto your tentacles!”

Marie follows up after.

“It's time for Inkopolis News!”

—————

Callie and Marie had been hosting the news for the year when Shy-Ho-Shy approached them with a proposal.

“We were thinking, since your contract for the news is ending soon, that perhaps we may host a more special Splatfest.” she says. “An idol showdown, where Inklings fight to see who comes out on top- Callie, or Marie. It also dovetails well with your endeavors in solo performances.

”Are you sure?“ Marie asks. ”If I were you, I'd do a double take.”

Marie wasn't wrong, all things considered. Splatfests were a heated debate, often ending in drama and discourse. Many times Callie got death threats as well, usually when her team won. Something like this could easily tear the internet to shreds.

“It's more a publicity thing.” Shy insists. “I'm sure this would get plenty of coverage.“

”I'm aware. But, well. This is a disaster waiting to happen-“ Callie starts.

By then, it's too late. The papers have been signed, and the theme of the final Splatfest has been set in stone.

—————

The publicity stunt worked. Perhaps too well. The Squid Sisters were one of the most popular bands in Inkadia, yes. But the fallout of the Splatfest had been nuclear. Even weeks later, Callie got heavy amounts of drama in her Squidder feed. Sure, it was a small amount compared to the praise. But it refused to go away, no matter how many users and tags Callie blocked.

Perhaps that's why she found herself drawing in hedonistic pleasures and vices. Using it to suppress her feelings.

Perhaps that's why she found herself in Octo Valley. It had been a few months since her grandfather established his ”Squidbeak“, one she found both herself and Marie dragged into unwillingly. An attempt to settle old grudges, but covered her hands with blood instead,

Perhaps that's why she talked with Octavio. She felt alone, alienated. Drowning in drama she could never escape. Wanting something more in life.

Perhaps that's why she picked up a crowbar on the ground, and struck it down on Octavio's prison. Even if her mind told her not to.

Perhaps that's why she blacked out shortly after hearing the glass shatter and crash to the ground.

—————

The view from Callie's room is beautiful. It's located high above Dome 1, the richest of the various underground bunkers retrofitted into living space for the Octarian Empire. Every night, she can see light shining from the city, bathing the apartment in a pale glow.

She reaches a hand to her fin, where a pair of glasses sit. Octavio gave them to her when she woke up, in a recovery unit underground. Callie was also told to never take them off. Ever.

She didn't. Cuttlefish told her many stories of what Octavio was like a long time ago, and the Octarian leader was one that rarely abandoned his old ways. And at the same time, she didn’t want to take them off. They looked fresh, after all.

Callie got used to it eventually. The music softly playing through the shades, soothing her and making her be more willing to do what Octavio told her. The strict routine she was held to. The way she would sometimes wake up somewhere without knowing where she was, or how she got there.

She hears the door open, and then the footsteps of an Octoling woman around her age. Callie had seen her many times before, and the two even talked. Her name was Crystal, and she was the granddaughter of Octavio.

”Oh, hello, Crystal.“ Callie says. The way the words sound to her are foreign. Not of inkling origin. But she’s gotten used to her voice sounding off. It’s been like that since she woke up in recovery.

Crystal nods her head. ”Hello, Callie. My grandfather wanted me to tell you the latest news.“

”About the new Agent?“

Crystal nods. ”That's the case. She's been draining our power supply. She seems to be quite clever. She can evade our forces, and take out most she can’t outrun.“

”That's how every Agent is, Crys. I was just as cunning as her before I arrived here.“

”I'm aware, but well. She was able to shut down one of Octavio's superweapons. The Octo Oven. Even with all of his failsafes, it got destroyed.”

Callie presses her hand to the bridge of the shades. ”You're joking.“

”I'm not. I’m worried, in all honesty. The other weapons seem to be fine, including the General’s mech, but who knows how long it’ll be until they’ve been destroyed? Or our power supply runs out?”

Crystal sighs.

“I’m scared. I really am.”

“I know how you feel, Crys. To have everything taken from you.”

Crystal smiles, before looking at Callie, as if she remembered something.

“By the way, Octavio wants you to go down to the studio tonight for a recording session. I have no idea what for, but well. I’m sure whatever it is for is going to be special.”

Crystal then turns around, getting ready to leave the room before Callie holds out a hand.

”Wait.“

Crystal turns around. ”What is it?“

”I was just hoping for some company. It gets lonely up here.“

”I understand. I'd love to stay, but well. My grandfather is waiting. He’s an impatient man.”

Crystal closes the door, leaving Callie alone once again. It's like she can never escape the alienation.

She can hear the music again. It melts her feelings away, and soon, she is getting ready to go to the studio. Callie knows that the people here love her.

Perhaps soon, she will feel like she belongs even more.

—————

”My name is Abigail Torres. It's nice to finally meet you formally.“

It's been a day since Callie was freed from the underground. Her left eye hurts, from the piercing shot of Marie's Hero Charger. Her head hurts, from the aftershocks of being snapped out of mind control. In fact? Every part of her hurts. Even with painkillers.

She's still groggy when the new girl introduces herself. Callie slowly lifts her head, and smiles- but it’s hard to do so.

“It’s nice to meet you, Abigail. I. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did. I, I didn’t think he’d keep me under his control. That I was his pawn.” Callie chokes out, each word having force behind it.

Abigail puts a hand on Callie’s shoulder, and looks the squid in the eyes.

“Don’t worry about it- I forgive you. Callie, you were played for a fool. So was I. It sucks so much. I don’t know how I feel.”

“That’s what being an Agent is like.” Callie responds, long pauses between the words. “It’s tough. Emotional. You get used to it.”

An awkward thumbs up accompanies her statement.

“I see…”

But Callie is lying. She has never gotten used to it. Even after 2 years of service, Callie feels great regret in her Agent work. And she knows it’s the same for Marie.

But that’s too much for her brain to process; she falls asleep once again.

—————

Callie never liked going to hospitals. The smell of antiseptic, chemicals, and sickness always was revolting to her. But 3, or no, Violet, was here, and Callie had yet to visit the inkling. She had taken a shine to the Agent since the two first properly met. Callie still remembered xir coming out of the domes, crying and saying over and over that xe was a monster.

But that was years ago.

Callie knocks on a door, labeled with “Toyama, Violet”.

“Come in.”

Callie pushes the door open, in the middle sits Violet. Bandages cover her right eye and left arm. An IV drips painkillers into the Inkling's body. Under Violet’s eyes are dark circles, from little sleep.

“Violet, you're okay.”

“Okay. That's one way to put it, considering I've been here for a week, and still am going to be here for another all things considered. It’s been hard to sleep. Hard to move. Hard to not think about the Metro.”

“But you're alive, isn't that what matters.”

“Sure.”

Callie walks closer to Violet, lightly holding the Inkling's left hand. Violet weakly smiles.

“I heard about what happened from Abigail.” Violet weakly says. “I. I know what it feels like. To be controlled by an outside force, to be commanded to kill, despite every little part of you trying to hold it back. To hurt somebody you care for, and pay the price.”

Callie feels a burning on her side. Where her stylists in the underground tattooed an octopus onto her body. It never came off, no matter how hard she scrubbed and tried to wash it away. An ever-present sign of what had happened to her that refused to go away.

“I don't like to think about it.”

“I know.”

Violet rubs her finger on Callie's hand.

“I missed you. I wish I was there. I wish I could've stopped it before it was too late.”

“You couldn't. By the time it happened, you and Gramps were gone.”

“A woman can dream.”

Violet lightly presses her other hand on a button to her right, releasing painkillers.

“I'm glad to be back.” is the last thing Violet says before xe falls asleep, and Callie leaves the room.

—————

Cuttlefish rarely calls meetings for the Squidbeak. His mind and body have been withering away, causing him to forget things constantly. After all, most inkfish don’t live for over 130 years- even with medical advancements.

“Well, girls, it's been an honor.”

Callie, Marie, Violet, Abigail, and Samantha all sit together in the outpost cabin, squeezed in tight. Cuttlefish stands at the door, leaning on his cane, hand shaking.

“But I'm getting too old for this. I'm not as spry as I used to be.”

He laughs, but that laugh evolves into coughing.

“Because of that, 3, I think it's about time I pass the role of captain onto you. Out of the lot, you have gone through the most, and been a shining example of what the Squidbeak is all about.”

Violet looks at Cuttlefish, eyes glassy. Like an angelfish caught in headlights.

”Me? Why me?“ Xe says. ”I don't deserve it. All I did was be Tartar's pawn, go through the Octarian underground and leave a trail of blood behind, and just. Be a monster! I don't deserve it, I think Marie does more, she was the one who helped with the Callie situation.“

The Inkling chokes back a sob. Marie squeezes her hand.

”Well, Mx, you can't make crab cakes without breaking eggs...“

”That's easy for you to fucking say-“ Violet yells through a gritted beak. She leans forwards, wanting to tackle the old man, but Callie holds her back.

”He's already old and senile enough.“ the reef squid whispers. “A strong wind could knock him down.”

But with all their pleading, Violet's claims land on deaf ears. They are given the Captain's hat, and a box with their new uniform.

The first thing Callie sees as soon as xe receives it is xem pushing the box under a bench and swapping the hat out with xir military beret.

—————

It's a clear night when Callie and Violet meet for the first time in weeks. Both had been very busy, life beginning to take over. It was a given, as Callie was starting to record new music alongside her cousin, while Violet checked out the new inksports scene.

The two squids sit on the rooftop of Callie and Marie's apartment, located in Inkopolis' central district.

“It's a nice night, isn't it?” Callie asks.

“Yeah.” Violet responds. “But why did you ask to meet here, of all places?”

“Because I wanted to talk. In person.” Callie responds, fidgeting with a tentacle. “I thought this would be a nice place to do it.”

“There's more to it.” Violet responds, curious. They were the type who knew how to read Callie- albeit not as well as Marie.

“There is.” Callie responds, her face covered in a bright pink blush. “Violet. For the longest time, I've taken a shine to you. You've been one of my best friends through this whole Squidbeak thing, and well. One of the few people I really could relate to.”

Violet looks at her with confusion.

“I think it's because. I love you.”

Violet is startled. Her jaw drops open.

“You're lying, right?”

Callie shakes her head, and Violet begins speaking.

“Because. I've loved you too. I thought it was just a silly celebrity crush. But now we are in the same boat. That we've gone through so much. It's obvious it was more than that.”

Violet smiles.

“I love you, Callie. I really do. It isn’t a lie or something I’ve repressed for years.”

Callie pulls Violet in for a hug, and Violet gently wraps her head-tentacles around the idol’s. Kissing, of course, isn't exactly practical when you have a beak that can tear flesh and a tongue lined with hundreds of small teeth meant to tear up food.

And that night, under the stars. Callie feels accomplished. That there is nowhere for life to go but up.

—————

Callie can see a look of both fear and pity cross Violet’s face when an Octoling in his early 20s comes knocking on the door of the organization's outpost in the Splatsville Desert. He holds a notepad in his hands, and a bandage is wrapped around his left eye.

“Who are you? Usually we don't get visitors!“ Callie says, grinning.

”Probably a straggler. Thought Octavio's rule was all but demolished, however.“ Marie flatly responds.

The Octoling gives the two idols an annoyed glance, and he begins to write on his notepad. As he does, a Smallfry jumps out of his bag, and starts sniffing around the area.

He then holds it up, revealing that it has writing in messy, but readable, Oceanic.

”Cuttlefish sent me after some Octoling shot me in the head. Fishfry found him, he told me to find you guys after patching me up.“

Callie hears Violet cursing under her breath.

Callie cocks her head, curious. ”Cuttlefish sent you? I thought he was retired!“

”Old man didn't tell me he was. Crazy guy, called me a slur on accident. But that's not important. My name is Mike.“

Callie shakes her head. She knew about how Cuttlefish got heated around Octolings. It was something he could never fully shake off.

”If you cross paths with that idiot, tell him to go jump in a pond.“ Violet says through a gritted beak. ”Did he tell you anything about a Squidbeak? Or ask you if you wanted to be an Agent?“

”Yes. He called me Neo 3, I declined but he insisted that I join this operation, and come to see you guys.“

Violet unleashes a string of every swear word she knows. Half of them aren't even in Oceanic or Inkling.

”Gramps is a crazy old man these days. Don’t take anything he says at face value, hell, he isn’t allowed to recruit people.“ Callie tries to reassure, holding out a hand. Mike looks at her with a look of familiarity on his face.

”I think I know you. In the underground. I lived there, I was a courier for the military. You. You're Callie, right? And the other woman. Marie?“

Callie is confused, while Marie nods.

”Ah, yes. You gain a reputation when you've become a scourge upon the domes.“ Marie responds. ”But that's not important, is it?“

Violet takes a breath, and feeling more calm, xe speaks.

”Anyways. I guess you may or may not be one of us. Don't worry- these days, all we do is sometimes deal with small investigations. No fighting or anything. There’s nobody really to fight, in all honesty.”

Mike then tears a page off of his pad of paper.

”Huh. Though, I think that might change. Cuttlefish sent me here after I explained how I ended up in this mess. Was carrying a package to GrizzCo HQ, then an Octoling, Inkling, and Ray tied me up, and stole my things. The Octoling shot me in the head, to make sure I wouldn’t go after it.“

A look of concern crosses Violet's face, and Callie puts a hand on the Inkling's shoulder.

“Okay, but what makes the package important?”

“I don’t know. But I was getting paid a ton to deliver it, and it seems to be that it’s of high importance. 1,000,000 G is a very high sum.”

“Okay.” the inkling says. “Well, I’ll take your offer. Not like there’s much to do these days.”

The Octoling nods, and tears off the paper, writing on the new sheet and showing it to the group.

“Thank you.”

—————

”We're thinking about renewing your contract after the stunt you, Marie, and those other inkfish pulled at the Castaway's Dream. It's obvious the Squid Sisters are relevant again, and a full album would most likely sell well. Additionally, we're thinking about a proper reunion tour and-”

By now, Callie has tuned out. They have a new agent, as Shy-Ho-Shy had retired years back. Now it's a jellyfish, whose name she didn't ask for.

“So, what do you think?” the agent asks the two inklings. Callie puts on the fake smile she has become so used to wearing, while Marie is more apathetic than anything. Though Callie knows that there's more to it. Unlike her, Marie was more upfront with hiding her feelings.

Callie looks at Marie. Marie looks back at Callie. There's tension in the air, that there isn't much of an option but to take the contract.

”We'll sign off on it.“ Marie states. Her voice is strained, she was forced to say it, wasn't she?

Both women sign the contract. The next few days are a blur, talking about songs, a possible collab with Deep Cut, and a trial reunion concert to see if the various denizens of the area would be interested in the duo performing again.

Callie feels happy, she'll be able to do something. But inside, she feels hollow. That this will go over well.

Yet the reef squid will dislike each moment of it.

—————

Callie closes the scrapbook. Her life has been one of ups and downs. More of the latter, than the former. But she's been able to push through, hasn't she? Violet mentioned that she had a strong spirit.

That's something she knew was true, the fact that she had gone through so much and endured was proof.

She quietly sings to herself as she puts the book away. A moment of calm in an ever-churning storm of emotion. Callie knows there is a bright future ahead of her. All that’s left is to create it.

[nudiscoturkey]

My personal project: Nullite Chronicles

Alright. Where do I start with this. Those who have known me for a while - long before I made a tumblr account - know that I've been working on a novel series on and off for several years. However, it's better to think of it as just a story that's primarily told in novel format for the sake of convenience.

For those not in the know, however, here's some essential information on the state of the project:

The general concept has been a thing since 2013, and while much of it has changed since then, there are still some core aspects that have remained.

The reason why the ideas changed drastically over time is because I have been, and still am, guilty of letting ideas stew in my head and never really write them down in tangible form. Even now, I procrastinate on writing a ton and so there's plenty of things at risk of growing beyond their intended purpose.

Regardless, the first entry of the series took me about 2.5 years to complete (on and off, as usual). Long ago, I wrote nearly 3/4 of an entire novel that had a vastly different story before abandoning it. Long before that, I tried making a graphic novel of that same story before realizing how time-consuming the process would be.

As expected for a story written in first-person and has existed (to me) for over 10 years, it has a lot of personal meaning to me, though I will admit that there are some aspects that are undoubtedly personal yet I don't fully understand how. Perhaps the process of continuing the story will help me find out.

Now on to the concrete details. What is this story actually about and where can one even read about it?

As you have read, the series is called Nullite Chronicles. Still a working title, but it's what I've got for now. A sci-fi/fantasy series that, in very short summary, is about a goddess that decides to fuck around and give a few modern day humans reality-bending powers to see what happens, just because. The story follows these humans and the things that happen because of them.

The first entry was titled Crisis Inheriting. It should be important to note that this story begins from the perspective of some (relatively) ordinary humans and builds off from there. The story begins when a mad scientist passes away, allowing his inventions and research to be stolen. His son organizes a team to reclaim the stolen items.

The second entry, currently in progress, is titled Chaos Two Fold, following two of the aforementioned empowered humans right after the events of Crisis Inheriting.

To see archived art I've made related to the series, check out the deviantart gallery here. I may or may not update it in the future, it's there for the sake of archiving older art.

To read Crisis Inheriting, well... it's just a pdf on Google Drive. I really don't know of a better place to host non-fanfic writing right now, so it will do.

Chaos Two Fold can be found here, I simply update the file each time I release a chapter. I'll also try to announce new content here so you'll see this link again

Honestly, the real reason I made this post was because I've recently finished some art related to the story but I'd much rather give context to everyone before I start launching my art into the void. It's been many months since I last worked on the actual writing, so only time will tell if I'll pick it back up again. Besides, I'm sure many artists know the pain of drawing their beloved OCs so much yet not having enough motivation to expand on their lore :) you know it's serious when i actually write with proper capitalization and punctuation lol

[minusgangtime]

Vivian Shelby’s log

Date: 3/10/2020

Bzzzz!

H-Hello? This on? I hope it’s running..anyway,I’m Shelby! As of right now,I’m 15 and I’m recording this message with my phone camera. Though..I’m mostly using it to vent..recently I’ve seen so many people get sick,everyone’s coughing,wheezing,some have coughed right in my face..recently my parents left to go to the hospital cause they got sick,so I’m in charge until they get back..but it’s ok! It’s probably just a flew! I hope they’ll be ok..

Date: 4/2/2020

Bsssst!

…

I just had the worst day ever..my parents came back..but they were like..zombies..completely unrecognizable..I tried talking to them but they bit and scratched me!..I saw them go after my cats..and I blacked out,when I finally came back to my senses..I was holding a gun..and my parents were dead..thier darkened blood on my face..I don’t know what happened..and..I don’t know what to do..my parents..the people I relied on..are dead.

Date: 12/20/2020

Hey um..I’m back..with..news. Last time I talked about how my parents attacked me..bit me..well,I discovered what it was..apparently it’s called the Vivian plague,it’s basically a zombie virus,I don’t really have all the details,but one thing I do know..is that apparently,I’m immune! The bite in my shoulders just a scar now! But Casper and nala..they weren’t..they turned into zombies over the course of a few months..however,in my distraught I accidentally casted a spell that reversed the damage on thier brain! So they went back to normal! Since then I cast a protective spell on thier brain as well. THATS not all! Look who a found on the street!

*shaky cam noises*

I found a tiny black kitty! Unfortunately I had to amputate her arm cause it was bitten,but she’s making a slow recovery! Things are..rough..but hopefully,things will clear up soon! I’m sure if it!

Date: 9/1/2024

…hey. Been a while huh? I look different last time then I was on camera,but I don’t give a shit anymore. This will be my last entry,cause I just don’t care to talk about something no one cares about,it’s not like I scream into this thing and someone will come to me. So,I’ll just tell you what has happened in the last 3 years. Since I made my last log I’ve found several more cats,some healthy,some injured,some infected,I took them in regardless. My immunity has also given me a curse,some parts of the infected corse through my body,but not enough to fully infect me..when I get really emotional,I discover me eyes and voice resemble the infecteds,even dripping with black liquid. I’ve also discovered no one is trustworthy here. I’ve had to fight other survivors just for basic shit. And sometimes,I’ve had to kill them. Guess that’s when my magic became black,when my soul and heart was so consumed by darkness I couldn’t even muster a smile.

Remember the positive shit I said years ago,scratch it,scrap it,I was an idiot. Since then I have had to be a single mom to so many cat children and I’ve seen how the new world is. It isn’t nice,it isn’t fair and it shows no mercy. I’ll probably throw this tape deep in the woods,not like anyone will find it anyway,or even care,cause nowadays nobody cares about anything but themselves. I would’ve loved to have a family and support to look after me,but that’s not the case. If you see this message,do whatever you want with it,I don’t fucking care anymore.

-mod shelby

(Oh no I feel bad now ;~;)

[tiikerikani]

Weird tribute project

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

This is the weird tribute project I've been working on for the last month. Another artistic person in the fan club had been doing some really amazing pencil drawings of Senpai (which have since been sold to other fans), so I uh... felt the need to challenge myself because being a groupie is a competitive sport. I don't often depict real people in my art (besides myself) for good reason, so. Never mind in three dimensions.

Of course, I fan in a very personal way, so I gave these to each of them. (You'll have to pay me to make the rest of the band members, lol.)

Anyway, without further ado...

The Glowing Jewel (Jepa Lambert)

Since she's leaving the band, on Monday some of the groupies decided to hand out signs to hold up at the end of the show last night (more on this later when I get to my writeup). Signs aren't really my style, so I immediately got to work and made this in a couple of days. This was challenging not only because I had to work quickly but also because I only had male bodies in my model kits...

The Light in the Long Darkness (Tero Vesterinen aka Senpai)

I swear it took me a week to sculpt this. I am never doing that again. I even painted his ring (which he wasn't wearing last night)!! This was (of course) the only figure I was originally planning to do, but things snowballed. The base is strategically decorated to create the impression of height, since I kind of goofed up the proportions a bit.

The Magician (who gives form and structure to the spell that fills my world with beautiful things) (Teemu Jokinen)

Long title is long because that's what I wrote in the note accompanying it. I actually painted this one first, because it didn't need any extra work with modifying the parts from the kit. I was really overthinking this trying to come up with something poetic for the scroll but then literally nobody would understand but me. Eventually I realized I should just be obvious and put his name on it. (That's how he's introduced at performances, with the nickname). I have to say though, I absolutely nailed that beard.

To reduce the risk of messing up, I didn't use metallics or special paints like contrasts and shades on these, only normal paint and water. I picked up a bit of motivation from Ropecon, despite despising how technically flawless everybody's contest entries were and vowing to never paint at that level.

Detail pics and a peek under the paint below.

This is in the order I painted them.

[lamuradex]

Short Story: Mercenaries

(Thought I'd start with a spookier one because it's Spooky Month)

Title: Mercenaries

Wordcount: 3000 Words

Commander Aberdeen must lead his men through the jungle after a mission left them with a lot of loot and a long way to carry it home.

But when something starts whistling out in the woods, they realise they might not be as alone out here as they thought.

Mercenaries

Entry 1: Day 1                                                                         03/04/08

Personal log of Commander Aberdeen of Wraith Company. Honestly, it feels strange to report my own name. Strange even hearing it. Most people I know just call me Commander. Mercs know their place and know respect when someone’s paying for it. I’m keeping a log here because I’ve always found it safer to have a record, in case there are issues later or inquiries, and because it’s something to do in the evenings. We’re here in the jungle, I won’t specify where, to raid a supply convoy of some rather vital and expensive things aboard. I won’t specify what either. If someone captures us and reads this, they can just ask our employers, whoever they are.

The raid went off without a hitch. Well, almost. We had intended to capture the trucks and drive them out, but Everett got a bit trigger happy and one of the gas tanks went up. We lost all three trucks, but saved the cargo. It was a steal or destroy op anyway. Just as long as this stuff doesn’t get where it’s going. Still, this stuff should be worth something, so we’re heading back with it.

It’ll take a while though. Between dodging local authorities, militia, and having to heft this stuff through the jungle, we’re estimating two months before we reach the airstrip. Not a problem. We’re in no hurry. Supplies are on sleds, and we’ve got a couple of ATVs to drag them. Six of us, including me. That’s me, Everett, Michaels, Cally, Gorman and Jameson. Those are just my codenames for all of them, by the way, in case we’re captured.

Two months to go. Just need to keep a low profile.

Entry 2: Day 3                                                                                 05/04/08

Been a little while since the first entry. Everyone’s staying well behaved. Almost throttled Michaels earlier today though when I thought he was whistling. Was about to call him out when I realised he wasn’t making a sound.

It’s coming from the jungle. Might be a bird or something, but now I’m not so sure. Thought I saw someone out there. Just a glimpse of something moving in the green. Thought I saw some eyes. Maybe just some locals, but we’ll keep watch. If they report to someone, we could be in trouble.

Entry 3: Day 7                                                                               09/04/08

Four days now, but the whistling finally stopped. It warbled like a bird, but then Everett whistled back. He always was our little musician. Moment after he did, the whistling stopped. Whatever was calling got its answer. Glad it’s gone.

Nonetheless, I had Cally double back to check. He says he found tracks. Couldn’t say if they were animal or human. Not really a concern. We’re armed to the teeth and in the middle of nowhere. Who’d hear a gunshot out here?

Entry 4: Day 14                                                                                16/04/08

Jesus Christ. Something happened today. It’s been about a week since my last entry, but I’ve got to get this on record.

We’re down a man and one bullet. Jonathan “Cally” Wilks, deceased. At least, we hope he is.

A couple of days ago, Gorman started to get a bit jumpy. He thought we were being followed. We kept an eye out, and others agreed. Then this morning, before we could pack up, something came running through the treeline. Gorman jumped and opened fired. The intruder fell dead.

It was bloody Cally. Gorman almost fell apart when he realised. But when we looked at him, Cally was a wreck. He was mud soaked, covered in scratches, and looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week.

Thing is though, he didn’t look like that yesterday. Cally slept in the tent next to mine. I heard him snoring. One of the men saw him that morning, clean shaven and fine. Everyone’s wondering if we’ve had an imposter with us this whole time, or if maybe the dead man’s the imposter. Either way, the “other” Cally is nowhere to be found. His stuff’s still here, but he isn’t.

The men are pretty shaken. They boxed up Cally and put him on the sled. Best thing is we take him home. He was a good man.

On another note, that whistling started again.

Entry 5: Day 19                                                                                21/04/08

 That damned whistling. It’s driving the men mad. Still, everyone knows to keep a cool head. We’ve already lost one out here. We don’t want another.

Thing is, I don’t think we’re alone out here. I was on patrol, shorthanded with Cally dead, when I saw something. A figure in the trees. It was pretty far out, but there was definitely something. A dark figure, peering at me.

Now, I’m not some idiot who’s scared of black tribal villagers. You work in jungles enough, you meet your fair share. Even traded with a few. So when I say this man was dark, know that I mean it. Skin like charcoal and piercing white eyes.

Then he was gone. I sent Gorman and Michaels to look and they found a boot print in the mud. It’s the same brand that’s part of our uniform. I had Jameson check the supplies, but we’re not missing any, and Cally still has both of his. Gorman says the boot print was messy. Says there was viscera in it, that’s how Gorman put it. We’ll be more careful with our night guards from now on.

Entry 6: Day 23                                                                               25/04/08

The whistling stopped again. No more sightings of the man with bloody boots. There is certainly someone out there though.

We keep coming across strange totems. Hanging off trees, buried in the ground. They’re made with animal bones, most still covered in blood. Might explain the boot print. Jameson says this region is uninhabited, but the rest of us are worried we’re walking into tribal territory. Even so, I think we can handle ourselves. So far we’ve seen one guy, at most. We can deal with a lot more than one guy.

Entry 7: Day 27                                                                              29/04/08

We found another boot print today, bloody as the first. Gorman almost stepped on it. I know we’re moving slow, but the idea they’re in front of us is unsettling. Still, it’s not my current concern. My current concern is Michaels.

When we found the footprint, everyone gathered round like it was a spectacle. But Michaels is silent. Now, I know I haven’t described him, but Michaels is a bloody chatterbox. It’s why I thought he was the man whistling, him or Everett. Everyone else is having their say about the footprint, but Michaels is just quiet.

He just got back to work without saying anything. I’m gonna find out what’s bothering him. I’ll beat the information out of him if I have to. Now’s no time to be keeping secrets.

Entry 8: Day 28                                                                             30/04/08

I’m not sure what to make of today.

I confronted Michaels, but he refused to talk till we were alone. Then he finally told me, and I wished he hadn’t. He’d recognised the boot print.

The most recent one was different to the others. There was a cut across the heel. I’d just thought a twig or insect had crawled through it, but then Michaels tells me this story about Everett. The idiot stepped on a serrated blade two tours back, and only missed losing his heel because Michaels kicked his foot. Still has the boot to prove it though.

First I was unnerved by this, then I was angry. I decided to confront Everett. I marched up to him and called him out in front of everyone, thinking this was some big prank. Turns out the others had words to say too. Everett had been acting strange. One man said he’d been staring at Cally’s coffin.

Everett never answered. Something changed in him. Even now, I couldn’t put a finger on what, but suddenly it wasn’t Everett anymore. It was just something that looked like Everett. “Everett” then opened its mouth, screeched like a goddamned banshee, then sprinted off into the jungle. Michaels drew his gun and took a shot, but we’re sure he missed.

A couple of hours later, the real Everett appeared, battered and muddy, like he’d been missing for a week. He was also missing an eye.

While Jameson, our medic, looked him over, Everett told us what he remembered. He’d heard one of us calling him in the woods, and stepped away to see. After a few minutes he couldn’t find anyone, so turned back. We were mid transit, so he wasn’t too alarmed when he couldn’t immediately catch up. When he couldn’t catch up after a day, he started to get worried. When he finally had to rest and fell asleep, he woke up the next morning with an eye missing, not bleeding a drop. Then he found us later that day.

He doesn’t remember finding his boot print. He even still has his scarred boot. By his report, he vanished sometime after we’d seen the first one. He’s been missing for about a week, but swears up and down it couldn’t have been more than three days.

On top of everything, Jameson gave his report. Everett’s eye wasn’t removed surgically. It was torn out. Until we can get to proper hospital, Jameson has taken a sports team badge off his uniform and given it to him for an eyepatch. For all the horror of the situation, Everett doesn’t half look silly with a Bolton Wanderers patch tied to his face.

Entry 9: Day 30                                                                            02/05/08

I’m glad I’m keeping this record, or I might think I was going mad. The whistling started again, and I’ll admit I felt goddamned scared. I’ve given a standing order to the men. No one leaves the camp without a direct order from me, given eye to eye. Not that they would. More and more, they’re reporting seeing the dark figure. Charcoal skin and watching us. It only occurred to me earlier today that the whistling could be multiple of them communicating. We just need to get out of this jungle.

Entry 10: Day 36                                                                            08/05/08

The whistling stopped. I don’t know if that’s more unnerving. Either way, I gave the men a new order today. No one travels alone. Not for a second. I don’t care if you need to use the bathroom, you have another man watch you do it. I’m not having any “I only turned my back for a second, then he was gone.” We are not losing anyone else.

Entry 11: Day 40                                                                             12/05/08

We found more boot prints today, with a noticeable bit missing near the left toe. Everyone hurriedly checked their shoes to see if they matched. None did. Then Jameson decided to check Cally’s in his coffin. It was a perfect match.

Entry 12: Day 43                                                                              15/05/08

We found a body. It was barely recognisable and at first we thought it was another totem. Then we saw its face. It was Jameson. This was doubly strange, as Jameson was standing beside me at the time.

Immediately guns were drawn. We all expected to hear that same banshee scream, but “Jameson” just pleaded with us, so we put up one of the tents and dragged him in. This one is talking, and we’re getting answers. The tent is so the others don’t have to watch.

I’ve only briefly stopped to write this. I need it in case I start to question myself. Jameson is an old friend. It’ll hurt torturing something that looks like him.

Entry 13: Day 43                                                                             15/05/08

Another man is dead. Eric “Gorman” Jenkins, deceased.

It’s a good thing I forgot to write that for Jameson.

Me and Everett set to getting information out of “Jameson”. He never broke. He kept saying he was the real deal. I wished I’d believed him.

Then we heard this godawful noise. Screaming and gunfire. We ran out and found Gorman ripped in half. Michaels was sitting nearby, bloodied, terrified, and clutching his gun. Jameson’s body was gone. When we finally got some sense out of Michaels, he told us what happened.

Him and Gorman had been listening to us work, when one of them realised they better box up Jameson’s body. It had been sat out there in the heat, and neither was looking forward to it, but it needed to be done. When they got there, they both saw something odd. A wild dog had found the corpse in their absence, but it just walked up, sniffed, then snarled and ran away. When they looked closer, there wasn’t a fly or a maggot on the corpse. Not a worm or a beetle. Lines of ants seemed to be threading their way around it.

They found this strange, but blamed whatever had killed him. They set to move the body when Gorman suddenly froze and went damned pale. He just pointed and Michaels moved to look. He was pointing at a Bolton Wanderers patch on the corpse’s shoulder. The same one Everett had been using as an eyepatch for the last week.

Gorman tried to radio us. Before he could, the corpse moved. It got up and turned into something. Michaels describes it as looking like one of those totems, just bigger and with more teeth. It grabbed Gorman and ripped him along the middle, then turned on Michaels, but he shot it twice and it ran off into the trees. Then we arrived.

We’ve let Jameson out of his restraints and boxed up what was left of Gorman. There are only four of us left.

Entry 14: Day 45                                                                              17/05/08

Michaels is not doing well. He’s doing his job, but he is not well. He keeps grabbing a patch on his arm, as if to remind himself he’s still him. It’s a logo of some indie band he follows. Told me once he met his girlfriend during one of their concerts. I’ve always like the logo honestly. Looks military enough for a uniform. Better than Bolton Wanderers, anyhow. It’s a pair of arrows crossing each other with a plane behind them. Maybe if we get through this, I’ll make sure to buy them both tickets. Whatever the case, I think this might be Michaels’ last tour.

Entry 15: Day 46                                                                              18/05/08

I saw the dark figure again. He was in our camp this time.

After everything, I was loathed to sleep. Everyone else was wired, but with two standing guard, two of us could sleep. I had to. The last few weeks have been more than I could bear. I slept fitfully, but got a few hours. I awoke in the middle of the night and decided to trade off with someone.

And there he was. Charcoal black skin that almost looked burnt, crouching on the balls of his feet by the fire. He was staring at Michaels’ tent, eyes wide open, unblinking.

It took me longer than I’d like, but I drew my gun. Before I could get it out of my holster, he turned, looked me in the eyes, and sprinted off into the trees. I raised hell, but no one else saw hide nor hair of him. Where he had been crouched, there were two footprints in the mud. They were both caked with long dried blood.

Entry 16: Day 50                                                                             22/05/08

We are finally through. We reached the airfield yesterday and we’re finally going home. No one is comfortable though. We’re all looking at each other with uneasy glances. I think everyone is thinking the same as me.

I’m scared it’s still with us. I’m scared of what might happen if it follows us back to civilisation. I’m scared of how little we understand about what happened.

Entry 17: Day 50 – Final                                                               02/05/08

I’m writing this from the plane. Just as the plane arrived to take us and the cargo home, I turned for one last look at the jungle. Then I saw him. The dark figure, standing barely behind a tree. He stood watching me from the treeline, then he smiled. A mouth filled with huge, pointed teeth. He grinned, then carved an image in the tree bark with his fingertips. When he was done, he pointed one finger at the plane.

He’d drawn two arrows crossing one another with a plane underneath. I remembered that it had been Michaels and Gorman alone who had seen what happened with the fake Jameson’s corpse. Only Michaels had survived to tell it. I turned and saw my men boarding the plane. I followed.

I’m not scared anymore. I know what needs to be done.

Accident and Recovery Report: Mountain Rescue                                    Dated: 04/05/08

Investigator: Edward Palmer

Two days ago, we received a report of a plane crash in the mountains. Mid-flight, the pilot was communicating with local stations when there was the sound of gunfire and the line went dead.

The plane was located, crashed in the snow. There’s presently believed to be a single survivor from a crew of eight. Evidence indicates two or more may have been dead before the crash.

Reports indicate Commander Aberdeen and his men were travelling home, when Aberdeen drew his pistol and shot one his men and the pilot, causing the plane to crash. Many of the bodies are burned beyond recognition, and their identities mostly unknown. Recovered pages from a damaged mission log name the individuals by codenames, and it is believed that “Michaels” and pilot Walter Philips were shot. The body of “Michaels” cannot be recovered, having apparently been jettisoned from the vehicle during the initial landing, and is currently lost in the snow. Commander Aberdeen refuses to explain his actions, and has been remanded to police custody.

There are reports that there may be another survivor however, possibly injured. Rescue workers reported seeing an unknown figure standing in the snow some distance from the crash. When they pursued to try and talk to them, the person fled, leaving behind a trail of bloody footprints.

End Report.

[buildarocketboys]

2 + 3 + 17 for the book asks! 📚

2. Did you reread anything? What?

Yes! I reread all three of what I deem my favourite books, which I try and reread once every year or two: The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, Nation by Terry Pratchett and The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (just finished my reread of Book Thief yesterday, it's been a while since I last reread it so yes it did make me cry). I also reread This Is How You Lose The Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (which I first read in 2020) and Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier (which I first read last year and is definitely a new fave). Also listened to Re:Dracula which I counted as a Dracula reread.

3. What were your top five books of the year?

Not counting my faves/rereads, up to this point it'd probably be:

1. Babel by R F Kuang (soooooooo freaking good, magic system based on translation which made my little translator brain go brrrrr, translators of colour at Oxford in the Victorian era, pulls no punches on dealing with colonialism and racism and resistance, I adored the four main characters and their relationship and the ending broke my heart and made me cry. Just so fucking good, highly recommend)

2. My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones (Jade Daniels my beloved. These top two are so close but I put Babel slightly higher because I think it's objectively slightly better. But this is the book that truly has my heart. She's obsessed with slashers and her essays about them made me want to watch all the slashers, and she's a mess and thinks her town is gonna be victim to a slasher and whaddya know? Anyway so good I love her, the sequel is also very good and I'm very much looking forward to rereading them next year when the final book in the trilogy comes out)

3. Tell Me I'm Worthless by Alison Rumfitt (trans woman and TERF dual POV, the haunted house is an allegory for fascism in Britain, and it's so fucking good. It's also A Lot though so proceed with caution)

4. Nettleblack by Nat Reeve (the MC in this is sooooo cute and so fucking anxious god bless. Vaguely Victorian era small town, youngest sister in the Nettleblack household runs away because she/they doesn't want to get married, ends up joining an all-female detective agency. Told through letters/diary entries etc and just a lot of fun, I'm pretty sure there's a sequel coming out at some point which I'm very excited for)

5. A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers (cosy sci-fi about a non-binary monk who is somehow unfulfilled by life so goes looking for more, meets a robot in the wild and goes on a road trip with it. Very cosy soft sweet and just what I needed this month)

Big shout-outs also to Bunny by Mona Awad, The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M Danforth and Vicious by V E Schwab.

17. Did any books surprise you with how good they were?

The Night Circus kinda, only because I'm not usually very big on detailed, luscious description in books, like I can take it or leave it, but the description was what I absolutely loved about this book. It's so gorgeous and evocative and honestly I can take or leave the plot, but it was worth reading (and earned a 5 star) from the description alone.

[noellevanious]

yall wanna read my 1000 word article about why "fallout new vegas 2" is exciting and wanna give any ccs? it's actually better if you know nothing about the fallout games - i'm trying to write in a way that's engaging and explanatory - and i'd love constructive criticism before i finalize it

(below the cut since i dont wanna upload it to any site yet)

With a rumoured sequel to “Fallout: New Vegas”, a 2011 Action RPG published by Bethesda, around the corner, let’s take a moment to discuss just why this news is so exciting for fans of the game.

Fallout is an RPG series that’s been around since the late 90’s. Fallout 1, originally developed by Interplay Studios, was based around an idea for adapting the GURPS Tabletop RPG system into a videogame, and to say the game and series has had a lasting impression is understating its impact.

Fallout 1, and its sequels, are about an America ravaged by the titular Nuclear fallouts. Basically, a ton of nukes were set off, and Fallout takes place decades after, in a society still trying to rebuild itself in the midst of heavy nuclear radiation. The world is mostly ruined, technology, for the most part, is now obsolete, and everybody is trying to find some way to continue living, now that they’re just as likely to die of radiation poisoning at 22, as they are killed by the mutated victims of the fallout, such as Super Mutants.

The intense, unique, and poignant atmosphere, combined with an excellently developed gameplay experience that feature such mainstays in the series as the S.P.E.C.I.A.L. character stat system, the Pip Boy (which serves as a diegetic User Interface) and the Vault-tec Assisted Targeting System, or V.A.T.S., all mixed together and topped with unparalleled writing, has resulted in a franchise that is going strong to this day.

So why is Fallout: New Vegas 2 the big news? What makes it distinct from the latest 2 releases, Fallout 4 and 76?

Company Bethesda Softworks picked up the license to the series back around 2004, when it was in a lull of poor sidebar games compared to the 2 main releases, and, using the GameBryo Engine (the same engine that Elder Scrolls: Oblivion, Morrowind, and Skyrim both run on), released the third main entry in the series in 2008, Fallout 3, to critical acclaim.

Reception was great, but I’m not the first to say that it mishandled the series. Gone was the poignant commentary on consumerism (epitomized by Nuka Cola and the Vault Boy), the deep writing and varied cast, and in were a focus on turning enemies into Giblets, the Rock-it Launcher, and an odd focus on the Brotherhood of Steel and the main character’s dad, which resulted in a story that was mainly following in one of their footsteps, depending on how far into the game you got.

Then, in 2011, Fallout: New Vegas was released. This entry, also using the GameBryo engine, was published by Bethesda, but developed by Obsidian Studios, which included staff that worked on the original 2 Fallout games.

What made this game stand out from Fallout 3, as well as other action RPGs at the time, was not only that its writing was (and still is) superb and deeply engaging, but also that it was developed in less than 11 months.

This resulted in the game having a sort of Beta feel to the experience, which, combined with the admittedly testy GameBryo engine, can be hard to deal with a decade later (though, thankfully, mods go about restoring functionality and what bits of gameplay were lost).

The story in New Vegas focuses on the main character, referred to as the Courier, a Mojave Express Delivery-person (basically a cooler mailman), being shot in the head by a man named Benny, and embarking on a journey to find out why, what’s so important about their delivery, to take revenge, and eventually, to change the New Vegas wastelands, participating in an all-out war for the titular New Vegas area, waged by 3 differing factions – the New California Republic, Ceasar’s Legion, and Mr. House, a surprisingly old millionaire that hired said main character for the delivery.

What Bethesda lost in translation in Fallout 3 was back in full force for New Vegas – a wonderfully fleshed out setting, complex and multi-faceted characters and factions, such as what remains of the Brotherhood of Steel, the Enclave Remnants, the Great Khans, and the Powder Gangers, and a game world that is designed to keep the player challenged and satisfied. Gone are the “every enemy is roughly the same level as you” ideology that made 3 feel like you were always just strong enough to get by, never feeling too challenged, and back is a more rigid, but still flexible world pathing that encourages you to move through certain areas before making the trek to the titular New Vegas, a large casino-laden city that lights up the sky at any time of day.

Obsidian would go on to develop and release two other games since then, the Outer Worlds, another action RPG that, while reviewing favorably, didn’t garner as much press, and Pentiment, their most recently released game, released late 2022, a more classical RPG with a distinct 16th Century European artist artstyle, playing more to their strengths of great writing.

Which brings up the question – will Fallout: New Vegas 2, if a real game, be developed by Obsidian? Interest has been focused more on a remake of New Vegas in the version of the Gamebryo engine used for Fallout 4, which had massive improvements, and adding back content that was cut because of the tight development schedule. The appeal of New Vegas, for most players at least, was Obsidian bringing back unparalleled writing and a gripping narrative that’s absolutely flooded with great quests, characters, and morality decisions, to a series that hadn’t seen a peak in that area since the Fallout 2, 11 years prior.

To this day, Tom Sawyer (one of the head developers for Obsidian) has been talking to fans about New Vegas’s lore, and decisions made throughout the development process, on his personal tumblr page. This attention to detail, care, and appreciation for the world he and the rest of the team crafted, is what makes the game so special, as it would go on to inspire other notable RPGs, such as the critically acclaimed Disco Elysium, and still sees a massive fan community, tinkering with the game and adding mods that improve the experience, tell new stories, or even stich the worlds of Fallout 3 and New Vegas together (Tale of Two Wastelands).

If you’re interested in the game after this long diatribe, definitely look into “Viva New Vegas”! It’s a community-sourced project that gives players the most optimal and enjoyable method of playing the game through modern hardware.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hello, congrats on 1000 followers, that is huge! This is my submission to the match-up event. I’ll number the answers to each question.

1. I’m transmasc (we could get into the weeds of it all, non-binary, genderfluid, yada yada but that’s the gist of it), use he/they pronouns and I’m bisexual.

2. I’d like to be matched up with a Papa preferably, although a Ghoul would also be cool if you decide it’s my best fit.

3. I’m 5’4, I’ve lost a bit of weight recently so I’m pretty slim but not skinny, my thighs and arms are pretty big still. I’ve also got a bit of muscle showing, but again, not a bunch (I am working on it though). Most of my life I’ve been the chubby one in the friend group so this is new to me. Besides that, I have an hourglass figure (that I hide under baggy clothes) and, unfortunately for me, a very large chest that a binder does little to conceal. I have brown hair that’s wavy (2C), short on the sides and back and longer on top (comes down to my top lip if I stretch it out in front of my face), parted on the side. I also have brown eyes, I’m white (fairly pale), have freckles on my cheeks, nose and arms and a decent amount of moles all over my body. I wear glasses, I have three earlobe piercings in one ear and one in the other that I’m stretching. I dress in a sort of skater-y style, big pants, vans, oversized band T-shirts, hoodies, jean jackets, funky button-ups if I’m being fancy.

4. I think I’m a friendly person but generally pretty shy and I don’t get out much. Right now I’m writing my BA thesis (studying English) after extending my studies which means I finished all of my classes already, so I really spend way too much time at home. I could probably use someone who would help me to go out more but also respect when I have to stay in and recharge since I lean towards introversion (but only slightly). I’m also kind of a perfectionist which causes me to either put way too much effort into something or, paradoxically, way too little because then I can detach myself from it, telling myself that I didn’t try at all so I don’t feel like it matters.

5. I am very on-again off-again with video games (I could spend a year not playing any but then the next few months playing for hours every day) and I prefer narrative-led games. I watch board game playthroughs a lot and over the last year I bought quite a few board games. I like to watch horror movies but I’ve only been to the movie theater a few times since COVID started. I mostly listen to metal lately but there’s very few genres of music that I wouldn’t listen to, only one coming to mind is EDM. I like to sing a lot. I work out almost every day (ideally 6 times a week but it sometimes ends up being 4 or 5), it’s calisthenics and flexibility because I can do it with only a few cheap pieces of equipment alone at home and the gym scares me + it’s expensive. I also write fanfiction which this fandom inspired me to do and I’m very new to it but enjoy it a lot.

6. I’m 23, I live alone, I have two cats that are brother and sister. I was an only child until my dad had another kid in his second marriage but that happened when I was 16 so I don’t really count it since I didn’t grow up with siblings (my brother feels more like a nephew to me). I don’t think I want to be monogamous, because I don’t think I belong to anyone or anyone belongs to me, it’s just too restrictive and boring to me (although if someone I really cared about wanted to be 100% monogamous, I would probably agree to it). My favorite season is spring. I love most animals, especially reptiles, I used to be scared of spiders (I think from the stigma against them) but now I love to see them in my home and let them stay. But I’m absolutely terrified of the ocean and the creatures that live in it.

I am so sorry that this is so long but I tend to ramble and overshare when talking about myself. If this is too long, feel free to ignore.

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is…Papa Emeritus III

He loves stealing… I mean borrowing your clothes . As much as he enjoys his fancy outfits he adores putting on one of your hoodies and curling up on the couch. Preferably with you in his arms. It helps him unwind after a hard day at work.

He will come and keep you comapny while you exercise, he wants to support you and he often joins in. There will also be quite a lot of flirtatious glances from him.

One time he says "I can think of a much better way for us to work out together caro. hmm? You would like that no?" you cannot miss the sultry tone of his voice and the look he gives you as he draws you to him.

He is really supportive/understanding of your perfectionsim. Despite his playful front he does understand a need to do things to a high standard. He gets like that over his music. So he tries to help you balance it out.

If you are working on your thesis, he sometimes needs telling to just let you work. He loves being there for moral support and he is surpirsingly helpful and knowledgeable. But he gets a little distracted sometimes and just kinda goes off on one. So when you do say that you just need some peace and quiet to think he just pouts at you. Then after a moment he'll nod in understanding, give you a kiss and leave you to it. He will also bring you plenty of your favourite drink to keep you going.

He will definitely encourage you to go out more. He loves going out with you and you both always have a lot of fun. He can also spot when you need to recharge and he plans a cozy night in with a film or something.

He is chill about not being monogamous. It works well for him too and he has similar views to you. He values very highly the emotional connection you two share and he only has that with you. It means the world to him.

~

Written by Nyx