#My disappointment is immeasurable but I REFUSE TO GIVE UP!

[mochifowl]

My voice may not be loud, but I’m still going to use it. Even beyond the grave if I have to.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

The End of the Ultimate Hope: Part 2.

*pant!* *pant!* *pant!*

*Makoto is heavily outmatched by the duo of Celeste and Tsumugi, especially in the dark setting, but no matter what, he refuses to give up or run away, spurred on by the thought of causing the two of them immeasurable pain.

Erase me...Yeah, right... As if!

I'm the Ultimate Hope! Good fucking luck trying to wear me down!

*SMACK!*

GAGH!

*BANG!*

AGH!

*Makoto gets hit in the shin with something hard and topples. He quickly rolls out of the way to avoid being shot at subsequently!

You know...the fact that you keep having to repeat that fact makes me think otherwise...You're disappointing Makoto...

Stop hiding behind my FRIENDS FACES!

*He throws a punch, but Tsumugi disappears into blackness again. Instead, his fist just collides with an invisible wall which he assumes is Celeste's dress.

Oh please...as if you have any right to call us your friends anymore...!

Grrrgh! RAAGH!

*He tries again. Same result.

Byakuya: In fact, I'm pretty sure because of what we've done...We'd all hate you Makoto...

And Mukuro would hate you too...

DON'T YOU DARE SAY HER NAME! UUGH!

*Makoto chases Tsumugi through the darkness, but gets tripped up again. He looks up to see Tsumugi learing down at him.

Ultimate Hope? Hero? Give me a break, you DROPPED US down an elevator shaft!

Yeah, well, apparently so did Uchui! And we did it for the same reason! To PROTECT THEM!

*WOOOSH!*

Since when was it up to you to decide what's best for us?

*WOOOSH!*

You're NOT special Makoto...You had ONE good moment in your life during the killing game, but what else did you do during it? You couldn't protect Sayaka, nor could you stop any of the murders! If you're really the hero you think you are, why don't you show it!?

RAAGGH!

*He once again tries to throw a punch, but Tsumugi jumps back and shifts again.

I was the BEST and most amazing the Future Foundation ever had to offer, but I gave up my life, so YOU could thrive! USELESS, PATHETIC MAKOTO got a chance to live a full life!

*WOOOSH!*

That's all we ever do, and it's why you keep us around! You protect our lives so that we may become sacrifices for yours! So that YOU can be happy!

THAT'S BULLSHIT!

*Makoto leaps up and attacks again, but this time, Tsumugi catches his fist. His punch is heavy though, and she's slightly faltered by it.

Everything I have ever done is for the express purpose of saving this world, and protecting the friends and family that I love! EVERYTHING comes from that want!

Well, you have done a MARVELOUS job, haven't you?

*WHAM!*

Ugh!

*Tsumugi throws a punch back, then starts darting between the shelves, rapidly shifting as she does.

You couldn't save me...!

*WOOSH!*

You COULDN'T stop me!

*WOOSH!*

Where were YOU when Jabberwock Island got destroyed!?

*WOOSH!*

Where were you when my friends were being kidnapped!?

*WOOSH!*

Nagito: Were you there when I attacked Kyoto and left Hajime Hinata to die!? NO!

*WOOSH!*

Did you stop Emilia Feng!? Did you even TRY to stop Kuripa Kurafto!? NO! You turned on ME! YOUR OWN SISTER!

SHUT THE FUCK UP! NONE OF THAT IS TRUE!

*CRAAASH!* *SMAASSH!* *BAAANG!* *CRAAASH!*

*Makoto, in a blind rage and panic, starts destroying the shelves around him, but this doesn't help an awful lot. Tsumugi just continues her tormenting.

[ownedbythescribe]

Kaedehara Kazuha | Longer Way Ahead

ıllı Synopsis: Amidst the troubles of life, Kazuha was allured by the gleam in your eyes. He longed to know your name and take his chance. Will you let him?

ıllı Genre: Fluff, Romance, Modern AU

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı Inspiration: Da Capo - Honkai Impact 3rd

ıllı A/N: I really liked this one! It’s challenging not to make the characters OOC, but I tried! I hope you guys enjoy!

“Hey, Kazuha, are you all right?” Heizou asked, tapping his friend on the shoulder, who seemed high-strung on the number plastered on his exam paper. He could see the distress in his eyes and wished to know if he would like to talk about it.

“Y-Yeah, but I don’t think my guardian will be happy with the score I got. I might get an earful later when I come home.” Kazuha joked, but his friend could hear the uneasiness in his voice. Recalling the plans of the boys after school, Heizou urged his disheartened friend to join them in the arcade to de-stress. The platinum-blond male shook his head no as he wanted to be alone in his thoughts later. There were things he needed to evaluate regarding his performance.

“All right. Give me a call if you ever change your mind.” He patted his shoulder again before drifting to Venti and Aether.

College was the last thing Kazuha had in mind after his family perished in a fire incident. According to the police, it was deliberate, considering the chemicals found near their backyard where the flames started. It took months before the criminal was apprehended. Afterward, he was taken in by Beidou. He thought he would graduate high school and get a job at the cat cafe, but she insisted on getting a college degree. Here he was now, studying philosophy, and his disappointment was immeasurable.

Kazuha let out a dispirited sigh as he glanced at the paper in his hand. It was not uncommon to undertake mathematics during the first year. But to perform poorly because he disliked the subject, thus refusing to exert effort? It upset him. His father did not raise him to be lackadaisical. He knew he should have at least tried to understand it because how much more once he entered his second and third years? Critical thinking would be his valuable tool, and mathematics provided that challenge.

“Not to mention, the preliminary exams are coming. This feels so overwhelming.” He murmured, sitting on one of the stone benches in the university's garden. It was already 4 in the afternoon, yet only a few students were in sight. He was grateful for the opportunity to be alone and wallow in self-pity. Or so he thought he was alone because not far from him, he heard someone singing.

“There used to be a story teller, who always painted the sunshine and the rain.”

It was a bit off-tune, but the soft voice made up for it. Kazuha glanced around to spot where it came from until it landed on your figure.

“One has to eventually grow up. Spending a lifetime to taste love and pain”

As if in a trance, Kazuha watched you sketch the scenery ahead. Your eyes gleamed in adoration as your hands hovered above the sketchbook. He felt like he was watching a magician splash colors on a dry canvas. It was—No, you were breathtaking.

“Never can we suspend the time. Having to leave the tracks behind. There is a longer way ahead, after all.” You continued, applying colors that you thought would suit the leaves. You hummed the rest of the song until the last part. It was your favorite line.

“May you, the beauty of this world, always shine.” A smile unconsciously made its way to Kazuha’s lips. He intently listened to you hum, the feelings of disappointment and self-pity vanishing like smoke in the wind.

The lyrics of the song encouraged him to see beyond. To understand that he might have failed, but it did not mean the end of the world. It was a realization of the failure he did not see, a lesson he needed to be taught. With a new determination, he texted Xiao and asked if he could tutor him the next day regarding the exam they recently took.

In the next succeeding days, the platinum-blond male took mathematics seriously. He would question Xiao and Heizou, occasionally Scaramouche if he was in the area, about the items he was unsure of. He got the hang of advanced analytical geometry and basic logic, always practicing when he had the time. Kazuha never forgot about you. In fact, he would return to the gardens from time to time, hoping to hear you again. Those times were rare, knowing that you were on a different course. He thought of asking his friends if they knew you.

“A person singing in the campus garden? Is that a ghost story, Kazuha?” Aether shuddered, unable to seize the chill creeping down his spine at the thought of a ghost in the university.

“No, they’re a real person. I would see them sketch around buildings, trees, and even people. They also love to sing. Hmm… they have (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair.” He described. Heizou thought for a moment until he remembered an art student who was a friend of Venti. He immediately glanced at the drunkard.

“It’s (Y/N). How could you not recognize those traits, Venti? You basically hang out with them every week with Nilou and Thoma.” He chided. Venti rose from his seat and pouted. He said that other people also had those features, but the up-and-coming detective told him that you were the only one who loved to sing out in the open, even if it was off-key at times.

‘They love dissing them, huh?’ Kazuha thought. He loved your voice, really. Not to mention, the way you sang made him melt. Now that he discovered your name, he wished he could talk to you, maybe ask you out for a coffee date. His interest in you was growing each day.

Heizou noticed the smile blooming on his friend’s face. He smirked and nudged Venti, who also noticed the sentiment. It looked like your wish to have a boyfriend was coming down like a shooting star. Venti took out his phone and chatted, asking if you were free this afternoon. You said yes. Venti was about to ruin the surprise when Heizou pinched his side and grabbed the drunkard’s phone.

“Ouch! What the heck?” Venti gasped. Heizou ignored him and typed that he would like to meet up later for coffee.

“Hmm? Coffee with Venti? That’s a bit strange. He always, I mean always, asks people out for alcohol and not this. Does he want something?” You thought, frowning at the possibilities your friend might ask of you. A soft sigh left your lips before replying that you would see him later.

Heizou grinned before replying, “Great! See you!”. He returned the phone to the drunkard, then turned to the crimson-eyed male.

“Kazuha, they’re free later. I say you go ask them for a coffee.” The maroon head teased. Kazuha was stunned at the opportunity, and he could feel his cheeks flush. He stammered a response that Heizou could only imagine as he would try.

After class, Kazuha felt quite nervous. He had a silver tongue, yes, but it did not mean he could not feel emotions such as anxiety from time to time. He reached the rendezvous point and saw you sitting on the bench. The sketchbook laid open on your lap as you hummed the same song he heard when he first saw you. With a little bit of courage, he asked.

“(Y/N)… right?” You glanced up and saw a handsome guy rubbing his neck in embarrassment. The first thing you noticed was the red streak in his platinum blond hair that strangely suited him. The alluring crimson eyes also seemed to look past your soul. Noting that you were staring, you shuffled in your seat and replied.

“Yes, but may I know who’s asking?” You politely regarded. The male took a look at your masterpiece and relaxed. He told you that Venti was his classmate and asked him to tell you he could not come because Heizou dragged him away to help with their project. He added that they withheld it for too long because of the drunkard’s antics.

‘He could have texted me earlier. Geez.’ You frowned. It would have saved you time to nap instead of waiting. With a sigh, you thanked the male and took your things.

Kazuha was alarmed that you were already leaving, so he used what little courage he had to ask if you wanted to grab some coffee. You asked him why, suspicious of the act. He stiffened before noting how you looked dejected that your friend could not come.

“Venti mentioned that you like the cafe by the library. So… if you don’t mind, that is.” He could not look you in the eyes, but your mind was already doing wonders. Piecing the obvious, you shook your head in mirth. Venti set you up, and he had another accomplice by the looks of it. Otherwise, he would have already blown it.

“Hmm. I don’t know, but you’re right. I do like the cafe by the library, and I suppose Venti also told you that I favor the mild sweets they serve there?” You teased. Kazuha sheepishly laughed. Busted.

Well, he was a cute guy. This might also be the chance you have been waiting for all your life. Venti was not an idiot to set you up with the wrong person.

“You must already know me, but I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you.” You placed your hand in front for a handshake. He took it and also said his name.

“I’m Kazuha. Shall we go then?” He urged. You grinned and took his hand in yours.

“Sure! I hope they still have their special drink. You should try it!” Kazuha was beyond elated. There really was a longer way ahead, a future looking to.

BONUS:

“You know, you could have just talked to me. I always see you nearby when I draw. I hope you don’t mind that I often sing off-tune. It’s just my way to de-stress at times.” You bashfully said. Kazuha flushed once more before chuckling.

“I didn’t know, but I’m happy you gave me this chance. Don’t worry about your singing. I love it.” He confessed. It was now your turn to blush. He was too adorable and honest!

“Okay….” You murmured. He squeezed your intertwined fingers, smiling contently.

Please don’t copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[michyeosseo]

2022 creator wrap

favorite works

bringing back a love thyself tag thing-y from two years ago to fill up an otherwise empty yearend queue

january - all i ever wanted was a sister as far as i could remember. therefore, the way my brain has been wired... it’s no surprise to combine the jazzy vocals of luisa (from encanto) with chungmuro’s finest showing of sisterhood in recent memory. 

february - hongxue, my beloved. anita yuen hitting a corporate prick in the head, in cheongsam, is ~magnificent~ let’s not mince words. to my delight, i discovered she’s also been taking on roles checking the kissing women requirement all the way back to the early ‘90s. good for her.

march -  an entry for kww featuring kang malgeum. have you ever been personally changed by the nation’s unni and her ghost smile or are you normal?

april - moran × oksun. i even assigned the invu album to their dynamic only to be immeasurably disappointed.

may/june - here’s the latest in the never-ending law of the lady shoutouts. i was provided, bombarded even, with so much jiejie crush material. (warning: wetv subtitles were just a grade above machine translation.) xu jie assuming the role of chen ran’s baby daddy – putting their “partnership” full circle – i dunno where to begin to thank cdramas for them.

july - it is Not Perfect nor was it archived here but ‘twas my humble offering for queen moon’s birthday [ofc it was going to be a sehwa fancam to the kpop milf anthem wooah hip].

august - do mob bosses gently ask to have dinners with their indentured servants? as per the miniature hell in my head, chairwoman kang insook certainly seems convinced that’s how it works with her secretary kim yoonjae. and if my takeaway from that terrible movie is a positive reception of the dismembered wrist marked with her tattoo and totes not leaving her for dead, so be it.

december - meet jin hwayoung, the youngest daughter of a conglomerate. fashionista, my meow meow, achieved having a purse-carrying malewife. (the last bit representing actual affection is very notable, considering everyone else in show-window marriages.) dad, ily, but we both know why i picked this drama up. long after the faux chaebol revenge fades from the limelight, the general public will continue to owe kim shinrok for refusing her talent to be boxed as merely garnish/‘only daughter amongst many sons’ and for her commitment to having maximum fun on set for us. give her a worthy slice-of-life next.

if you’ve read up to this point, i just want to express my sincere thanks for following me/my crazed hyperfixations ♡ 

sideblog stuff under the cut

special mention

this is the (half-)year i kinda leaned into vidding. with encouragement from dear friends, here are some archived because twtr video compression is absolute dogshit fruits of those late nights. i wanna try to do more next year, maybe revisit old ideas, while not abandoning my main bread and butter, gifs. here’s to hoping the quality of the two modes of output will be honed closer.

feeling each other’s ribs that are protruding

ok i lied, i’m not a ‘little bit’ in love with gwendoline christie; i want to sell my soul to her

[ncmither]

@fcgwise said: “ My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. ”

He’d heard it before. Some form or another, there was bound to be disappointment. It hardened him to hear it again even in this place. Despite it not being him, he heard the words in his father’s voice. It stirred a deep rage inside of him that he hadn’t felt since he lost the fight with The Ghetto Masher. The knuckles in his hands creak audible with the strain of how tightly his fists had balled. David refused to meet Vittorio’s eyes and kept his head lowered. It was for their protection, because with the explosive anger that built inside of him in that moment, David could not trust himself not to swing. That familiar song of bone cracking under brute strength and how easily it yielded to the force of a blow. Perhaps, he had not meant how it sounded to him but Vittorio would not know that until it had been too late. Collecting himself took a war inside of his own head. A long battle filled with blood and death that only took seconds on the outside.

A sharp intake of breath escaped him and he stood. There was tension in his entire body while he reached his full height. David stepped close to him, so close that his chest pressed tight into the man’s shoulder and his face only a few inches from the trimmed bread that Vittorio had chosen to wear. His dark eyes danced across the older man’s features while his own took on hard lines pulled taunt by his rolled rage. The lion inside threatened to escape the cage inside of him. Easy words spoken so powerful that they drew out one of David’s worst qualities. And as simply as that, a sadistic and vaguely cruel smirk twisted his lips. Even as the anger licked at him like the flames of the campfire licked at the wooden logs that forever burned yet never turned to ash.

❝ What can I say, pretty boy? I live to fuck up your day, ❞ he spoke coldly. He kept his hard gaze trained for a moment longer before he leaned forward, to whisper in Vittorio’s ear, ❝ give me an hour and I can think of better ways to ruin your fuckin’ day, mate. ❞

[lloydfrontera]

NOVEL SPOILERS 🖤

Just gotta love the fact that in the final chapters, but really let's face it- the fact that in the ENTIRE novel, it builds up on the viewpoint of Javier on how he constantly fails to protect Lloyd whenever something terrible happens to him, and the fact that in the end, he really wasn't able to protect him, even as the strongest swordmaster in existence, and i just think it's funny how unresolved the whole thing was to the point that Javier thinks he doesn't deserve to cry over Lloyd's final letter to the fronteras znxnncnf

LIKE WHY SAY THAT JAVIER DESPERATELY WANTS TO HELP(he does, really), AND THEN NOT BE ABLE TO ACTUALLY PROTECT HIM manxnnxndjdh though, granted, in the final scene they did simultaneously protect each other cliche-ly via getting stabbed for the other, it's just hilarious how this didn't go anywhere as lloyd died anyway

The narrative really said "Javier can't protect lloyd but he can help in other means, i swear"

I just think that sad boy Javier hours :>>>>>>>>

oh god

oh fuck

you cannot do this to me the damage this ask did to my brain and heart is immeasurable

you are so right tho!! that was. that was a really strange plot thread to leave dangling like that. and like it starts all the way back to cremo! javier gets disappointed in lloyd and leaves him behind to go fight the zesty lobster only to later feel guilty about it because he should've protected lloyd and lloyd almost died because of him. then there's the mastodons incident and javier gets really angry that time because lloyd isn't supposed to put himself in danger! he has people for that! he has javier for that! and yeah this is shown as a good gesture from lloyd because he refuses to put his people in danger for him (and don't misunderstand me it is a good thing) but it's also the start of lloyd not asking for help and wanting to take all the worry by himself. and javier notices that. then there's namaran where once again javier can't find lloyd, he can't protect him, lloyd almost dies again because javier couldn't defeat the hell knight by himself. and javier feels so guilty about it! he starts trying and training and working even harder because! he wants to be strong enough to protect lloyd! and then comes the bone dragon fight where, yet again, javier thinks he failed lloyd and couldn't protect him. literally his last thoughts were about how sorry he was he couldn't save him and how he'd wanted to be there at his side for the rest of his life. favorite scene btw. and then he does! he does manage to save lloyd, he literally turns into a grandmaster to save lloyd (which btw, getting to a level of swordplay that is thought of as imposible just to save your best friend? that's g-)! and you'd think that'd be the end of that right? except that no, lloyd is a little shit who keeps getting into more and more trouble each time more dangerous than the last. and while javier doesn't struggle as much physically to protect him, now lloyd's problems start being of a kind javier can't help him with as essily! especially because lloyd refuses to let him know how he can help! and in lloyd's mind that makes sense, because he knows javier wouldn't even doubt to give his life in his place (even if he's like absolutely wrong in the reasons on why. which is. a topic for another post. we'll get to that. oh trust me. we're gonna get to that) but it does cut off javier from doing anything to help him! it cuts him off from a major part of the plot! and javier notices! he tries so hard to be there for lloyd, he gives lloyd so many chances to be truthful, he confronts him several times, hoping lloyd will trust him to tell him how can he help... and lloyd doesn't. he has his reasons but at the end it just comes out as him not trusting javier enough to let him help.

and that's never resolved! javier never gets the chance to be in equal footing to lloyd when it comes to resolving the situation! lloyd never actually tells him anything! correct me if im wrong but lloyd never even tells him he's not actually,,, well, he never tells him he got isekai'd! javier finds out on his own, he pieces it together all by himself and then the letter where lloyd tells the truth isn't even for him.

and i'm not saying javier should've died in lloyd's place, i kinda don't love when choosing to die is shown to be a heroic, always right, selfless, good act, honestly that's part of why i am ok with lloyd's sacrifice at the end. because it's shown to be a tragedy, something he desperately didn't want to do, something he fought so hard against, something he really didn't want to choose and it's meant to be sad, we're not meant to be satisfied or content with it.

but i do think not even telling him takes away so much of javier's agency, it cuts him off from further character development and like you say! it's just! a plot threat that's left dangling. it's never resolved, it's never addressed, we're just meant to see javier struggle with the feeling that he can't protect lloyd and then failing to protect him at the end, feeling so guilty about it he doesn't even allow himself to grieve for him.

maybe we're meant to see his admission of missing him and wanting to see him again at all costs as him finally being able to do something in order to protect and save lloyd? it is a thing that was mentioned very often, how javier constantly admits to himself that lloyd is a better person than he thought and how he does think they're best friends but also is not willing to say it out loud, so maybe him bring willing to broadcast it to everyone in order to get to lloyd is the pay off for that? but it feels a bit,,, unsatisfying. i do love it! like javier admitting how much he loves and misses lloyd, annoying one of the most powerful beings in his world and hopping universes to get to lloyd? absolutely amazing, i love it, wouldn't change a thing. but it does feel like they didn't address one of his biggest insecurities except to confirm it to the most extreme degree.

ANYWAY ALL THIS TO SAY you are very right, the narrative did say "fuck you" to javier, and it is sad hour times for our favorite knight 😔

unrealistic that we didn't get a montage of javier being extremely over protective of suho after getting him back. he probably would refuse to leave his side for a good while, being too afraid to even go to sleep because what if something happens and he isn't fast enough to protect him yet again? i will admit that is a good sandbox to built hurt/comfort fics 🤭

[lovelybarnes]

stood up- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, anderson x reader (?) warnings: angst, getting stood up, language, unrequited feelings about: prompts (DA29) “i got stood up.” + (DF30) “i think you’re my soulmate.” +(DF41) “are you going to cry? please don’t cry. a/n: i love to hurt but dw it’s a happy ending, i actually like this fjsk, a the time i finished this, i just posted another imagine, so i can’t wait for you guys to read this one in a couple days

every passing second makes you hyperaware of all the sympathetic stares that are currently directed at you. the feeling of pity is enveloping you whole, wrapping you in a thin layer of shame that you think must be related to the careful makeup you caked on your face for this date. your recently manicured nails scratch at the tablecloth, trying to avoid your new expensive dress, deep midnight color clinging to your nervous self. teeth stress your dark wine bottom lip, anxious eyes darting across the restaurant.

with each face that enters the place, none of them being his, the presumption that he isn’t coming solidifies. with it, comes the embarrassment. you can feel the warnings of tears, already threatening to ruin the mascara you had applied so carefully, not bothering to choose the waterproof one because why would you be crying on your date?

you suppose it’s your own fault- how dare you attempt to get over bucky? how dare you trust the words of a shield agent? you pick at your nails, gathering up the courage to stand up and leave. your waitress, however, beats you to it, a faux apologetic look on her face. “oh, so you’ve been here for, like, half an hour and it seems no one is coming, and we kind of need the table, so…”

you hold back an uncomfortable cringe, nodding stiffly as you stand. “right. i’m sorry. i don’t need to… pay for the water, right?” you ask dumbly, ducking your head when she shakes her head condescendingly.

pushing the door open, you step into the brisk air of the night, clouded over with an uneasy disappointment that you’re sure is because of you. you stand for a second to look at the stars, realizing how pretty of a night this would be if you weren’t so damn frustrated. the upset hasn’t passed yet, although the beginnings of anger are peeking up in your stomach.

while you stare up at the moon, the universe decides your getting stood up wasn’t enough, choosing to gift you with cold droplets of water that make your mascara run. it’s unbelievable, you nearly scoff tearily.

you walk to your car then, the moonlight that should have been romantic when you walked out of the restaurant now only making you feel lonely. you don’t let the tears come yet, having enough pride to not let the smitten couples appreciating the romance of the rain see you cry, deciding to put that off until you’re in the quietness of your room.

you drive in the sound of the pattering rain, concentrated on keeping your breathing even so as to push back the tears, not wanting to have an accident on the way back home because your vision was clouded over with sadness.

-

the relief you feel when you arrive at the compound is immeasurable; the knowledge that all you have to do is walk quietly to your room, and you can release the pent up emotions that eat you whole is unbelievably satisfying. the horrible itching feeling that comes with the tears arrives again when you notice your reflection in the impressively clean windows of the stark compound. through the stains of your ruined makeup, you can see the remnants of how dolled up you were, how much time was spent with the intricate details that made you smile when you looked at yourself in the mirror.

you swallow back the painful lump in your throat, opening the doors and sniffling at the dimly-lit room. your heels click tiredly on the floor, precious bracelet lightly jangling when you move. you can’t find it in yourself to care when you realize you’re dragging water inside, resigning to letting stark lecture you in the morning.

as you stand in the elevator, waiting for it to reach your floor, the emotions you’ve pushed so far down decide to spring back up in the form of an overwhelming dejected exhaustion that makes you physically slump. you lean against the cool of the metal railing, shutting your eyes hard to avoid looking at yourself. you only pry your eyes open when you hear the soft ding of the elevator, surprised and once again embarrassed to see bucky standing between the open doors.

“y/n?” he asks quietly. his demeanor immediately changes when he takes you in, body softer in the way it always is when you’re with him. his reaction makes you fall deeper, which reminds you exactly why you were going on your failed date. you straighten, clearing your throat, “um- i have to get to my room.”

your voice is thin, heightening his worries and stopping you with a gentle hand to your arm before you step off the elevator, “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay?” he asks, and you nod blindly at all of his questions, realizing that the longer you stay with him- with his warm hand that you can’t help but lean into pressed against your cold arm- the more you really want to cry and scream because it’s not fair that he’s been given to you, yet you can’t have him, even if he has you.

“i’m fine,” you lie obviously, forcing your eyes again from his. “y/n, what happened? you’re clearly not fine,” bucky pushes, the hand on your arm beginning to rub stressed circles into your skin. you give up then, looking back at him. “i got stood up,” you say finally, words cracked. you shake your head, “and i just spent so much time on everything and-”

“that’s stupid. who would stand you up?” bucky interrupts, eyes genuinely confused while you scoff. “apparently anderson from security,” you respond bitterly, looking away. “he’s stupid, y/n. he has to be to not go to a date with you.”

you exhale frustratedly, “maybe not. maybe there’s something wrong with me and i’m the stupid one for even thinking someone would want to go out with me,” you countered. “hey, no, you are- you are amazing, y/n. amazing and stunning and intelligent and he missed his chance to be the luckiest guy in the world,” he insisted, gently pulling your attention back to him with a gentle hand on your cheek. you give him a watery laugh through the loud, unfair questions in your head: why don’t you love me like i love you, then?

you don’t realize the tears that run down the streaks of already ruined mascara until bucky points them out, wiping them away with his fingers, “no, no, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he begs. you can’t help it, though, biting your lip to hold back your unrequited confessions of love.

“nobody wants me. i don’t even think i want me anymore,” you weep, oblivious to the breaking of bucky’s heart when he hears your words, pulling you flush against his chest. “don’t say that, doll. that’s not true-”

“it is. what other reasons can you think of that explain why i’m the only one that’s shown up to the rare dates i’ve been on? why have i had to go on those stupid dates just to forget how pathetic i am that i can’t get over you?”

you’re too deep in the ocean of your thoughts to realize what you’ve said, too little light available in the dark to let you realize the hints you have and will undoubtedly let out if you continue blubbering into bucky’s shoulder like the mess you are. your feelings are scattered, words so disorganized that any way you piece them together will be a mistake. “why else does the one person who i actually want to love me back not want me?”

bucky can make sense of the words you’re saying, the heavy weight they carry when he realizes exactly what they mean, and what you imply. he’s frozen, heart simultaneously fluttering at the mere thought of his feelings being returned and breaking at the cries you’re letting out because of him.

he’s refused to ever be the source of your pain, restricting his own poems of confessions because he didn’t want to hurt you, never wanting to be the reason you cried. he supposes now it was the wrong choice, one he needs to fix.

the bead of insecurity buried stubbornly in his mind shrieks, however, because he’s as clueless as you are and can’t possibly imagine someone like you- so kind and pure and good- loving him back. so he needs to make sure, needs to hear you say it in your voice.

“what?” you let out a watery scoff, full of embarrassment rather than annoyance at him, “don’t make me say it, bucky, please-”

“please say it- i- i need you to say it.”

a beat of silence passes before you sniffle, pulling away from the man you’ve called your best friend and wanted nothing but to be able to call him more. “i love you, bucky. in a way that makes me pretty sure you’re my soulmate because i don’t even believe in that but you make me feel like i should.”

bucky’s storm clouds lighten, doubts dissolving when he listens to what you said, tasting your words and examining each one just to remember it. he pulls your lips to his when they’ve barely processed. “you should,” he says when he pulls away for a second, only to make you lose your breath again when he aches for you immediately, kissing you again, “believe in soulmates.”

“why is that?” you ask breathlessly, letting him pull you back in because you both have been waiting- dreaming about this for so damn long, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to keep away from you now that he has you. he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips, so perfectly imperfect when your teeth clash and you both laugh gently, noses nudging each other when he leans his forehead on yours, “because we’re meant to be, y/n. in that way that soulmates are.”

[beckface]

sometimes i think about how LRW's civilian/work clothes are already CMYK. Cyan = Headband hairclip thing (is it one of those plastic hairclips from the early 2000s that didn't actually hold your hair bc you needed like 3 other ponytails to keep it in place, or is it like a plastic ring???) Magenta = Shirt, Yellow = Hair. She's a walking printer cartridge before she gets copiered. Also legit disappointed we never got a 'machinations' pun from her because... because machine....... (also ty for providing 10/10 wordgirl content, my hyperfixation is back with a vengeance and I appreciate your posts very much /gen)

It took me forever to answer this just know my guilt is immeasurable and my apologies are plenty /lh anyways

I THINK the thing that Beatrice wears is a headband, but I have seen a lot of fanart where it’s one of those giant ponytail holder things, and I love to imagine that, if we take the show in the context of 2022 that Beatrice has worn the exact same outfit since like the 1990s or something and she refuses to change it. That seems in character.

The villain character designs are literally top tier in this show. They HAD to have done the CMYK thing on purpose, literally no way it was an accident, kudos to you for seeing that JKSDFDS like it’s a visual pun the writers of this show love that kind of silly stuff

Why couldn’t we have more machinery-based word lessons with the sheer amount of machine-based villains. Mr. Big, LRW, Twobrains, Granny May to an extent, and of course mf Robot Mccallister

LRW is iconic and out of all of the villains I remembered her design PERFECTLY years after I had first watched the show when I was actually the target demo. I love how she clearly gave up on brushing her hair all the way through years ago. I love how exhausted she constantly is. I love how she can switch from faux timidity to pure internal rage. I love how being a villain is her outlet for the stress of everyday life. She is just coasting along, respect.

This is not anything to do with your ask about LRW but i’m gonna talk about it anyways, I love all the character designs so so much. Chuck being a sandwich head is so random like how did they decide that. Did they give him the sandwich theme, the name, or the design first because NONE of those things seems like something someone would bring up at a pitch meeting casually

Mr. Big being a stereotypical business guy but with a robber’s mask as his symbol is so creative and slick I will never get over it, meanwhile Leslie looks like that stereotypical blonde assistant except she’s constantly monotone inside and out and is secretly wearing a karate uniform at all times

Twobrain s tumblr se xymann (no but serious this is another one with like how did they think of that concept. Did they start off making Steven as like the science character and then they fucked with it?? Or did they make the mouse thing and then do a tragic backstory?? I have so many questions)

Tobey looks like literally every British child you’ll ever see and the fact that he’s faking his accent makes that even funnier. Great punchline

The coach is a short king but he also needs to shave that mustache like come on dude you look like you’re banned from school grounds

Whammer’s horns are unnecessary and also the best thing ever I hope that he never ever loses all the random bullshit in his design <3

(edit WAIT I JUST GOT IT. HE’S A BULL IN A CHINA SHOP. BECAUSE HE WRECKS THINGS. DAMN YOU PBS)

Butcher is such a CLASSIC cartoon character idk how to explain it but like. He’s a meat butcher. He wears a butchers outfit covered in meat. His magic power is meat. He butchers words. Simple, I love it. Also he’s not stereotypically mean or brutish, he’s a sweet guy.

I Like how in the Best’s design their hair is shiny while most of the other characters don’t have any texture or detail in their hair. It’s a nice touch and great visual storytelling that this family is made of perfectionists and egotists

I like how the learnerer makes no sense and scares me a little! There is no explanation he just looks like that!

I like how with Seymour’s design his power is his teeth, and his design is literally BUILT from the ground up to highlight just how got dam white those teeth are

NOCAAAAAAN

Okay done with talking about character designs hnnnn

(and thank you!! My hyperfixation also rushed back as you can see so i’m glad I can provide engaging content for some ppl dkflsldj)

[choco-cherry-chunk]

Norman and Otto take Rosie out trick or treating when she’s 7, and she insists that not only do her dads have to wear costumes too, but so do all four actuators (individual costumes too because of course they each have their own personality). I can see Norman going for the least scary costume ever, due to his history with the Goblin and not wanting children to be afraid when they see him. I can also see both men being reluctant to wear costumes and going the easiest route like wearing cat ears or a fake moustache, so Rosie compensates by going all out for the actuators. 1/

2/ So she and her dads are walking down the street, all four actuators decked out in sparkly boas and ties and tiny hats and antennas. Flo is a witch with a pointy hat and a cape, Larry is an alien with antenna and google eyes glued all over his claw, Moe is a snake with sparkly scales stuck all over him and a forked tongue taped to his claw, and actuator!Harry is flower with each part of his claw (temporarily) painted a different colour. They all get their own Halloween bags too. Otto argues that this is too much, since the actuators don’t eat. But Rosie is a clever girl and knows this will net her four times more candy, so she insists that the actuators have to have the FULL Halloween experience and that includes getting candy (her dads know exactly what she’s doing but let her get away with it and make plans to ration her haul between the three of them). Rosie is either dressed as Spider-Man, a scientist, or a dinosaur.

YOU. HAVE. ME. SO. SOFTTTTTT. Oh my God, this is delightful!

I am just imagining Norman feeling adamant about taking Rosie at first; one of the few good memories he has with Harry as a child was taking him trick-or-treating through their apartment building (this being pre-Oscorp days) and the fun the boy had was immeasurable. And initially, Otto plans to sit it out. Everywhere he goes, even with efforts to hide his actuators, draws people's attention, and he doesn't want that for their daughter on that's supposed to be a special evening. But Norman does not want her to be disappointed, and she knows she will be much more saddened if Otto says he isn't coming along. So Otto ends up agreeing, only for Rosie to not only want him there, but to do something to draw even more attention to the actuators.

Otto tries his best to deny her, he does. But the request is so innocent and it really isn't harming anyone. Even the actuators seem like they want to get in on the fun. So he gives in, watching her spend mornings before school scribble her ideas on paper during breakfast and weekends constructing shapes that will inevitably become something he can't yet recognize. She refuses his and Norman's help because "it's a surprise", and letting them know would let Harry, Larry, Flo, and Mo in on it. So they keep back.

On Halloween, Rosie gets an early dinner so she can get the actuators ready while Otto eats. He remains still as she tapes and pastes and paints (with washable paint, Norman assures him) her four friends until they are nearly weighed down by her work. Both her fathers compliment her efforts and cite specifically well done pieces. They are genuinely proud; their daughter is more of an artist than either of them.

Norman settles on some vaguely animal-centered accoutrement and Otto simply puts on one of his own hats with the claim that he's Indiana Jones. I'm imagining Harry joining them at some point or seeing pictures and saying he remembers his father wearing something much scarier when he was a kid but that "this is good too". But when they go out, Otto is initially super concerned about his actuators, only for endless children to stop and gasp at them, initially complimenting Otto on his costume (after all, I have to assume that most kid of trick or treating age by this point wouldn't be as familiar with "Doc Ock"). Rosie is quick to jump in and explain the costume of each actuator with fascinates other kids - some who know her from school, others who have no idea of who she or her fathers are. They unintentionally form a group of children and parents, some standoffish with Otto and Norman when they fail to pull their children away, others falling into easy "parent-safe" conversations with them. Norman and Otto are nervous at first, but eventually feel at ease as they see how good a time Rosie is having, and how even the actuators are enjoying time with children. Hell, maybe this is when they consider another, should the two have more than one kid.

[rainbow-writers]

Hello!!! I have been inactive for a very long time 😭

This is a real quick introduction to my new (?) WIP, Where There’s Smoke. It has some of the bones™ of my previous WIPs, but I’m trying to persevere with this story. If I succeed, WTS will be the first novel I’ve completed in over a year!

I’ve made a new cover, and have some posters based on the four main characters’ (so far? it might go up to six I’m not sure yet) first chapters, all of which I’ve finished as of yesterday! (At least for the first draft.) Morpho, Viper, Gemini, and Glare are all codenames, as these characters are pretty involved in the world of urban fantasy espionage. 

A quick (kinda) introduction to these four knuckleheads:

Morpho (“I just think we should give women the space to be insane. as a treat”) is a self-preserving con-artist, headhunted and sought after by many for her exceptional talent at forging documents with the help of her illusiomythia. Illusion magic can extend further than forgery — shapeshifting, invisibility, and conjuring among them — but Morpho doesn’t use her powers for evil. She doesn’t want to hurt people. She just wants to make her money and move on. She wants stability, a close network, to be able to sleep without keeping one eye open, but realistically, that was never going to work. People like her didn’t get happy endings like that. Morpho is running away from... something bad.

She wasn’t sure how to feel when he betrayed her. Offended, surely. Impressed was next on the list, annoyingly. There was another emotion swirling within her, but she refused to acknowledge it.

Viper (“sorry! you have to be at least a Level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory!”)is a spookily observant assassin, returning from a four month vacation and looking to get back in the game. His experience with magic has been a rocky road — family blessing, or family curse? — and prior to the story’s beginning, he was voluntarily Sealed, his magic locked away inside his soul for good. He does thorough research on his targets before deciding whether he kills them or relocates them (without the one who paid for their death knowing). Luckily, he’s usually sent to kill some pretty bad people. But Morpho’s not the only one running from her past.

Normally, other people where the ones who waited for him. His time was valuable. He had schooled his features into neutrality before walking into the building, but he couldn’t deny the boredom was starting to get to him. 

Gemini (“god gives his toughest battles to his weakest soldiers. dear lord, please stop giving me battles”) is a talented coder and siren who wears her heart on her sleeve. Siren song is something special, and she doesn’t appreciate as being seen as little more than a pretty voice (a pretty voice that can convince the world around her to bend to her will, but that’s not the point). Besides, she hasn’t sung properly or in front of anyone in years, preferring to work her way up the ranks by working virtual magic rather than vocal. Maybe she could get back into music, into using her voice for the greater good... just as soon as she finishes this code that she hopes will find her long lost twin brother.

The red ‘ERROR’ message on the screen was disheartening enough, but the fact that this was the ninety-seventh time it had happened was downright upsetting. She could feel hot tears welling up, and she buried her face in her hands.  Four years, seven months, two weeks, and five days.

Glare (“my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined”) is a strong field agent who grew up in espionage, but now she’s faced with an entirely new challenge. Her magic is unstable. She’s always been able to control most of the things in her life — how she appears to others, her work — but this magic has thrown a spanner into the works. It’s interfering with her job, making it difficult to get things done, and if word got out it could ruin her career moving forward. She never asked for this. She never wanted this. But getting Sealed is out of the question — openly rejecting her magic would get her kicked out, and she could be fired for not being in control of her new abilities. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she needs a solution: and fast.

Her heartbeat spiked. She felt the control over her magic thin, then snap entirely. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the flash was bright enough to turn the insides of her eyelids red.

So yeah! That’s them, pretty much. Plot lmao what plot is something I’m working on at the moment: I’ve got some beats I’m looking forward to writing, but other than those moments, I’m not sure what connects them (very professional, I know). I’m using Campfire Write and I’m finding it pretty useful!

That’s all from me for now. I’m posting this partially because I want to try and be more active, and also I’m participating in NaNoWriMo* for the first time and I’m excited about it! I’ll try and remember to post an update next week :)

*I’m not going for the 50k WC challenge, so... is it still NaNoWriMo? Either way, I’m going to (ambitiously) aim for 15k, since most of my chapters average at around 2k words each!

[carelessannie]

Sunday Night Headcanon

Feat: French Revolution Navy Captain!Bucky and Ambassador!Steve, who are given a... gift from a neighboring colony

---

Bucky is the captain of a frigate, a colonizing war-ship sent by Napoleon to the Eastern European islands, landing in Corsica, which is occupied by France in 1804, the year Napoleon becomes Emperor. Bucky doesn’t love Napoleon— most of his family is dead because of the revolution and the Emperor’s consequential reign— but sees this as a way to escape the chaos in Paris.

He travels south from the capital, heading for Marseille's Vieux-Port, leading a company of 30 men— small for what Bucky is used to, sometimes leading fleets of up to 200 into battle.

They set sail across the Mediterranean, stealthy and with the goal of seeing ambassador Steven Rogers (Bucky’s closest friend and brother during the revolution) to the local government in Corsica.

The people hate them. Steven speaks French and Italian, as does Bucky, but when they arrive, Lord Alexander won’t communicate or let them interact with farmers and villagers. They aren’t given an invitation to stay on the island, so Bucky ends up forcing the lord to comply with the French Government on threat of the crown.

Lord Alexander apologizes, but Bucky and Steven demand amends be made as a symbol of Corsica’s submission to Napoleon.

They are presented with the keys to an underwater dungeon, and told that an immeasurable gift for the Emperor lies waiting for them.

It’s a short trip around the shoreline to where the dungeon is— built into a cave, and surrounded by lowering rock formations. Bucky has half of his crew stand guard, watching for a trap. He waits with them as Steven inspects the “gift.”

Within minutes Steven is back— pale and out of breath— shouting for Bucky to join him. Bucky climbs down the rock, into the mouth of the cave, and sees Steven kneeling inside a large cage. Beyond the steel bars, there’s a small reflecting pool, deep enough to stretch down several yards, although blocked from passage through by the metal cage.

Steven waves him over, signaling to keep quiet, and the two of them peer down into the water. The reflecting sunlight catches a glint of scales, deep in the water, and Bucky inhales sharply. Whatever he was expecting to find, it was definitely not this.

It’s a boy. Definitely younger than Bucky was when he was promoted to Captain a few years ago. His hallow face with exquisitely fine bone structure is framed by dark, inky waves of hair, emphasizing thin and pale features. Prominent collarbones, countable ribs, emaciated stomach are all visible, leading down to—

“S-steven... what is it?”

Steven just shakes his head, speechless. Each of the small creature’s fingers are hooked together, webbed, with sharp black talons to match. His skin glows gold, shimmering in the low light, just like his... tail. And Bucky is having trouble believing it himself. Long and winding and oh so mesmerizing, the creature’s tail gently sways back and forth, keeping him pinned against the lower section of the isolated pool.

For this creature— this... mer-person— there’s absolutely no escape. If this is the gift that Lord Alexander intends them to bestow on the emperor, he will be sorely disappointed, but Bucky...

Bucky sees the fear in this boy’s eyes. He sees the starvation and the shaking, torturous symptoms that him and Steven are all too familiar with. And he knows Steven is thinking the same thing.

“We have to rescue him, Captain.”

Bucky huffs, holding up the keys and giving them a light shake—

“I think we already have.”

(Okay, in my head I couldn’t decide between Tony and Peter, so it could be either.)

- I picture Steven being an idiot and diving into the pool, trying to rescue the poor boy, but getting attacked

- Bucky has to save both of them, and ends up pulling the boy onto the surface, surprised to see the scales and fins and gills disappear as he leaves the water

- They bundle him up and carry him back and tend to him and realize he only speaks Italian. They refuse to bring him to the emperor, but he refuses to go back to his people

- Maybe they all go off and become pirates together idk, but definitely either Winteriron or WinterSpider endgame

[nelllraiser]

hell’s true north | adam & nell

TIMING: current. LOCATION: hellscape number ??. PARTIES:  @walker-journal & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: adam follows his compass home. CONTAINS: sibling death (brief references to the bea plot), mass poisoning (from inhospitable domain), parental death mentions.

Vines with the texture of withered leather fingers writhed under Adam’s feet as he stumbled out of a brackish puddle of ichor. Disaster response boots that’d been designed to weather fire, acid, and radiation had eventually yielded before the onslaught of otherworldly environs. Now the ragged soles barely clung to his feet, wrapped tight with bloody strips of bloody demon hide. The most cutting edge kevlar, environment-resistant tactical gear, breathing apparatuses, and deadly military firearms had been gradually ravaged into uselessness by universes full of chemicals and alternative laws of physics that Earthly science had never imagined. As the tactics, preparation, and martial science Adam had once relied on was stripped away in the nonstop battles with demonic flora and fauna, the title of Hunter had become brutally literal. 

Adam spelunked through caverns that formed from the innards of sleeping elder things, scaled cliff sides made of solidified light and shadow, jumped across archipelagos of bone islands floating in stormy skies, climbed up trees the size of skyscrapers whose fruits were embryonic sacks in which monsters gestated, hiked across the savannahs with rolling plains of scalpel-sharp obsidian grass, and tightroped across worlds that were just spider webs of tentacles stretched across abyssal gyres. 

Adam was now a ragged figure where a dauntless soldier had once been, the shreds of his tactical uniform stitched together with leather and pieces of chitin. Once the olympics-ready peak of health, the footballer’s veins were stained with dark lines across his skin and he stumbled across the landscape of grasping roots and tide pools of black blood. His breathing was shallow treks through world after world had wracked the Hunter’s body with alien toxins that even the mutant’s regeneration was failing to fight off. Adam’s vision was blurred with the edges and everything muscle in his battered body begged to just lay down in darkness. 

But the compass in Adam’s hand pointed the way across the hellscape of fire, floating islands of tentacled flesh, and geometric monoliths to old gods that's already sunk into dreaming torpor long before humankind had discovered fire. Adam fought back agony and followed the compass needles across the poisoned land. 

Everything had blurred together by now. Nell couldn’t even clearly remember how she’d gotten to this realm, just that she’d fallen through far too many holes in the ground, off cliff sides, or out of sky-hanging oceans to even begin to remember what world this was. The red skies she’d originally arrived under were long gone, barely a memory after all the worlds that had followed, and all the attacks she'd scrambled to come out of in one piece. Though perhaps calling herself one piece was being generous when she’d resorted to packing the missing chunks of her flesh with whatever she could find that didn’t instantly sting and burn at her open wounds. She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d slept, time still immeasurable in places like these— just that she hadn’t done it since the baykok’s attack. The lack of sleep meant she hadn’t been able to replenish a single shining grain of her magic after she’d been quite literally drained and fed from, her body having nothing but sheer determination to keep her wavering feet from falling out beneath her. 

Something was the very definition of fundamentally wrong with this world in terms of survivability. Nell could feel it in the way each breath felt sharper than the last, and the ugly coughs that had her spitting up black specks on the palms of her hands. None of the places she’d seen could have been described as friendly, but this one felt like it was digging her foot deeper into the grave with every second she stayed. She needed to find a way out if she wanted to make it another hour. Nell was far past the point of finding a way back to White Crest, ready to settle for a hellscape that wasn’t killing the witch with every inhale of her lungs, and go from there if she could manage to last that long. How long had she lasted already? How much longer could she last? She’d always been a fighter, refusing to go down without taking at least a part of her attacker with her. But how could she carve out a piece of a world? How was she meant to rage against an entire realm? Maybe sometimes there was simply nothing to fight against, the hand of Fate snuffing out her life whether she liked it or not. 

And yet she kept walking, limping along as the injury on her leg oozed with some otherworldly infection that promised to kill her if this air didn’t. There was no direction, no plan, just the foolish hope that she’d stumble into a place where she could properly breathe. She walked until she could barely make out a figure on the horizon, squinting her eyes against the bright green and dingy brown of this place while she wondered if this would be the final creature to kill her. But the figure grew closer, and despite her best judgement an uncontrollable wave of hope flooded her chest. “Adam?” she dared to utter, even though she knew it was far too good to be true. Nell and the hellscape had done this before in the form of a tikbalang sending her astray with the perfect illusion of her hunter. “We’re doing this again?” she asked the air in a tone that was resigned to the disappointment of finding another falsehood, the high instantly giving way to a low. “What is it? Another tikbalang?” But this Adam was different. He looked sickly, and past the point of battered— like he’d already knocked on death’s door only for death to tell him to come back in ten or so minutes. They’d call him when they were ready. Why would an illusion-caster show her this? 

Hallucinations had become ever more common as toxic environs and constant otherworldly stimuli wore down Adam’s nervous system. 

Sometimes it was dad, gently reminding him of past lessons as Adam fought his way through nightmarish creatures and tried to find his way through landscapes only possible in other realities. Other times it was James or Terry, come to chat idly about football and girls as Adam trekked across wastelands whose sloping yet flat contours didn’t obey the rules of time and space. Dave gruffly reminded him about knots and the perils of marine warfare as Adam journeyed through rivers that flowed up into the sky and seas of sentint poison. Regan gave pointers on splinting a broken arm with a demon’s bones all while primly reminding him she wasn’t that kind of doctor. Orion nervously recounted facts about obscure demon types as Adam ducked claws and spines while trying to find a weak point. Ariana punched Adam in the arm and reminded him to buck up and put on a tough grin when everything was just pain. Athena gave advice on slowing the poison’s spread through his body with her mixture of tenderness and steel. Kaden brusquely correctly Adam on his stances as the younger Hunter’s limbs trembled with neurological damage, before reminding him to stay alive. Mina kept him vigilant, pointing out dangerous movements and sounds even when every fiber of Adam’s body wanted to sink into oblivion. Morgan spoke gently to him when the horror became too much, her hand on his shaking shoulders when the mental strain of glimpsing elder things sent Adam into seizuring convulsions. Dani reminded him of duty and their ancestral oaths with a concerned smile when ancient deceivers whispered in Adam’s brain, offering easy miracles in his moments of weakness. Luce yelled at him to get the fuck back up and fight when Adam could barely stand and death’s release drew close. Beatrice demanded that Adam remember who he’d come her for, when poisoned dreams threatened to swallow reality entirely. 

So this was not the first time Adam’d met Nell and had to hold back tears when stabbing yet another shapeshifter to death or felt crushing emptiness when it turned out he’d only embraced only empty air. 

Adam looked down at the compass needle, pointing unerringly forward. 

“Hey Nell,” Adam rasped through cracked lips, taking a green stone with a hole through its center from a cord around his neck. He held out the Adder Stone in one hand, gory knife clutched in the other. “When’d you give this to me?” 

Nell looked to the Adder Stone held in Adam’s hand, her solemn resignation to the illusion disrupted by the flickering of uncertainty in her eyes. The compass was a new addition as well, though she recognized the daffodil bloom she’d carefully laid into the face of it, the magic and flowers they’d made together under a full moon. “But I didn’t- I was gonna give you that after the date,” she mumbled, already chiding herself for how easily a couple of emotional trinkets could sway her mind towards what the demon world wanted her to see. But the compass wasn’t what he was asking about. The Adder Stone. Of course she remembered when she’d given it to him- the first of many things she’d gifted in an attempt to keep him safe. 

“After Bea- after we...brought her back.” Nell had masqueraded the gift as a thanks for Adam’s help in bringing her sister back from the ether, but the truth had gone deeper than that. “I said it was for helping protect my family. But I just- the carachs had just given you those visions, and the somnivore thing wasn’t that far off.” It’d been nearly a year ago that she’d delivered the stone, nearly five months after their first meeting at the Ring, and by then she’d already gotten soft for him. “You were hurting and- I didn’t want you to hurt.” Taking the Adder Stone between her fingers, she swallowed hard as she held it before her face, already dreading the moment he’d disappear before her eyes. The motion sent her into a brief coughing fit, the heaves long and loud as her lungs desperately tried to dispel the poison in her system. At the end of it she finally raised the stone’s center to her eye, knowing this vision and her willingness to linger with even a false Adam had already shaved precious moments off the stopwatch that was ticking down the seconds until the poison got the best of her. “Let’s just- let’s get this over with.” It was silly, and she shouldn’t have said it knowing he was nothing more than an exhaustion or demon induced delusion. But she couldn’t help herself as the next words whispered from her lips, trying to find a moment of peace in a land that had never known it. “I miss you. I’ll miss you.”

Finally Nell looked through the stone’s center, still surprised at how solid it felt in her hands, wondering if that was another lie to be chalked up to feeling dead on her feet. Except Adam didn’t fade from view, didn’t disappear into nothingness as she locked her gaze onto his familiar and brown eyes. She gasped, still hardly believing it but reaching out nonetheless, letting the Adder Stone thump unceremoniously against his chest while its cord slackened and her hand found a gentle resting place alongside his cheek. Warmth. Perhaps a little too warm, as if he were running a fever. But there was the unmistakable feeling of life beneath her fingertips, and she didn’t hesitate a moment longer to close the space between them, slipping her other hand into his. Her knees grew even more unsteady, either from shock, barely having the energy to hold herself upright, or both— and for a moment she rested a little more weight against him than she probably should have considering his state. But it was impossible for her not to sink into the first safe place she’d found since the onychorror had snatched her. She’d finally found a place where she was safe in the hellhole. A place where she’d always been safe to crumble, to relieve her walls of their nearly ever-present duties. A place where she knew it was safe to fall because he’d never once stumbled when it came to catching her. “How- How did you- you’re real? Please- either this is a really good mindfuck or-” Or Tate had made good on his deal, and managed to get her hastily doctored sigil back to White Crest. Was it possible something had actually gone right? Had gone so right as to bring the man she loved to her side?

Adam let the knife fall from his hand onto the writhing ground and put his arms around Nell. There was a moment of tenseness, of resigned expectation. But she didn’t turn to mist, slip right through him, or boil up into some hungry thing. Tidal waves of relief and shock at something too impossibly good to be true collided in Adam’s chest. Nell was solid, real. Just a moment Adam couldn’t feel the heat of the burning sky or the poisons of alien worlds killing him cell by cell. 

“I’m real,” Adam assured holding her tight with what strength was left in him. “I’m really here.” He entwined the fingers of their free hands. “I don’t want any other life except one with you in it,” the Hunter confessed, wasting precious water as the tears slid down his bloody and battered face. 

“So uh...here I am.” 

Nell could feel her own tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, an avalanche of relief washing over her near-ravaged spirit, almost still waiting for this moment to break in a way that left her spinning. But the moment never came, and Adam was breathtakingly solid within her arms. For a long breath she savored the peace he brought, like a salve over an open wound. She wanted to bury herself against him, to hide from the world around them and pretend like it didn’t exist, but the fear that he’d disappear if she so much as looked away from his gaze was too great, afraid to even blink lest the break in their eye contact be the blip of time needed for him to dissipate from under her hands. 

She could feel her pulse gain a few extra beats while Adam made his declaration, heart in her throat while she ran his words on repeat through her mind. It was wrong. So wrong that such beautiful words should have to be uttered in a world as ugly as this one, spoken between the gasping breaths of a dying pair. Nell had always known that loving Adam wouldn’t be easy between his constant brushes with death, and the conditioning that often made him feel the need to put humanity’s welfare before anything else in his life. She’d done it nevertheless, having made peace with the fact that maybe he wouldn’t ever wholly be her’s, a part of him always belonging only to his mission. The pieces of him she’d been given had been more than enough. But that didn’t mean his admission didn’t tug at her heart, didn’t make it soar in a way that made a fluttering bloom in chest that had nothing to do with the poisonous air slowly killing her.

“Here you are,” Nell finally managed to repeat in wonder. Hadn’t he been the one trying to convince her to leave him behind should the demon apocalypse commence? He'd told her that she was a part of humanity’s hope for survival, that she should abandon him for the sake of the world. It was his own words that made her know the gravity of him choosing to come for her, to potentially sacrifice one of humanity’s hopes in the form of himself by searching for her in the endless worlds. And that was enough to keep her voice steady and sincere while she spoke. “I don’t want a life without you either.”

Part of Nell wanted to be upset with him, to scold him for being so foolish with his own life by following her into the portal, but she couldn’t manage to speak the words through the temporary moment of solace they’d found in the middle of hell— unwilling to break it. Unfortunately there was something else that needed to be said that would do just as good a job at shattering their moment of quiet. Something she couldn’t ignore. “There’s...something else I need to tell you.” Let her hold onto this shining feeling for just a few more seconds before she brought them back to reality.

Adam had grown up with the knowledge that his life wasn’t his own. It belonged to humanity’s destiny, a merciless idol that generations upon generations of his family had been sacrificed to appease. The abnegation of the self had been soothing in a way, it’d made him brave in a way. It doesn’t hurt to suffer and risk your life again and again if it isn’t truly yours to lose. He tried to never deceive the women in his life. Nobody deserved to be given only part of someone to love. 

Mom and dad had loved each other intensely, and Adam had seen the aftermath after the needs of humanity had demanded yet another sacrifice. At the time he’d thought he’d learned a lesson from Esther Walker’s sorrow, and was determined to never hurt someone the way his father had. 

But after three years of complete radio silence, Adam had spoken with mom and learned too late that he'd gotten it all wrong. As he’d grown, so had she, and neither mother or son were the same broken people that’d parted at Gehena 19. 

Penelope was a person he shouldn’t have loved. She practiced demonology, the very art that’d fucked up the world in the first place. She’d participated in human trafficking and slavery. She’d performed ritual human sacrifice. She’d hunted down bounties without any concern for morality or a higher cause. She aided and abetted supernatural criminals simply because of her personal feelings. When these actions reaped consequences, Nell responded with personal wrath and revenge rather than seeking resolution, splintering tragedy into ever more fractals of repercussion. 

Basically, by every standard he’d been raised to believe in, Penelope Vural was evil, and if she hadn’t been born human Adam would’ve been obligated to kill her. 

But that’s not what happened. At first it’d just been that she was a useful ally. Next it'd just been typical horndog Adam, thinking with the head in his trousers rather than one on his shoulders again. Physical attraction and wary partnership had explained things for only so long however. She was brave, self-sacrificing, vivacious, and free to act according to passion and her free will in a way Adam had never dared to be. Eventually Adam was sharing things with her that he’d never dreamed of telling anyone else. 

He wasn’t supposed to care about someone like Nell, to give her so much of what belonged to the mission. Adam could only love someone also sworn to fight the same war, no one else could understand the sacrifices necessary and what’d inevitably come sooner rather than later. Adam had been introduced to Huntresses his age with the unspoken understanding that eventually he’d find someone to fight alongside and raise children with to pass the sacred charge onto the next generation. 

Adam had drank, partied, and screwed his way into forgetting for a while. Until suddenly, he ended up loving the wrong person, someone who wanted Adam for just himself, war be damned. 

It wasn’t the right thing. 

But what if he just….did y’know?

What he just loved Nell like she deserved without holding back, fight for his own humanity for a change?

Adam just wished he'd had the courage to take that plunge earlier. 

Adam looked parted the embrace slightly so that he could meet her gaze  “What is it Nell?” 

Nell hadn’t planned to fall for Adam Walker, hadn’t even entirely noticed how close she’d let him get until she’d felt like she was on the edge of losing him, delivering the news that August Thompson had died a death far from peaceful— that Adam’s hand had been directly involved in the spellcaster’s demise. Of course she’d known he was one of the people she’d trusted most, one of the only people she’d ever let see her stripped to the core while he’d held her after Bea’s death. It was why she’d asked him to help in the first place. But she hadn’t realized just how much there was to lose until she was standing on the precipice. She’d been convinced that it would be the end, that she’d managed to ruin something before even really letting it begin, and that he wouldn't come back. It turned out she didn't need to worry about him coming back, because he’d never left in the first place. And he kept not leaving, something that had been rare in the life of a witch who had an overzealous temper and a reckless streak a mile wide. 

So when he’d done things others might condemn or draw the line at— killed a werewolf in cold blood, admitted his own bloodlust beneath a full moon, gone on a murder spree fueled by the same moon, considered a demon pact, left her on read in the middle of feeling as if she were about to lose him...there’d been no choice of whether or not she’d grant him the same loyalty, to stay with him just as he’d stayed with her. She’d just wanted him to come home. And he always had. Even now, after fighting his way through literal hell, he’d come home.

Selfishly putting off her bad news for one moment longer, she let months of feeling the sun on her face when he smiled fill her soul, holding onto that feeling as she tried to find the words for what she wanted to say. What needed to be said if they didn’t make it out of this hellscape, and what she should have said much sooner despite being scared. She’d been worried about what he might say in reply, always thinking of that part of himself that she knew he felt he couldn’t give, not sure if she wanted to hear the ‘I’m sorry, but’ that she might get in response. But the man who’d dived into hell for her deserved to hear it, and she wasn’t scared anymore. “You know I love you, right?” He didn’t need to say it back, she’d finally realized that while he’d been walking towards her, knowing loving words could never speak as loudly as his actions had. “I just wanted you to know,” she assured him, letting him know she didn’t need to hear it in return. It wouldn’t change anything. 

Now for the less charming of her news. “Not to...instantly bring the mood down but...the other thing I needed to tell you…” Nell glanced over her shoulder, as if the soul-snatching creature would be there even now as she divulged news of it. “There’s a...slaugh. I think it’s been following me.” Adam would know what it meant, that such creatures only went after those who were generally mere hours from dying, waiting to devour their souls. Nell had glimpsed it as she kept rubbing elbows with death in the hellscape, the being momentarily coming into focus while she’d barely escaped a demon encounter with her life still intact. The creatures were nearly as good at predicting death as banshees were.

Adam followed her gaze towards the burning horizon where plasma storms corrustated in lightning rainbows over living plains of crawling flesh. Slaugh were vultures of the spirit world. As a kid he’d been terrified of the invisible presences that set off his Hunter senses whenever there was a clash between militia forces around the Levant. It’d felt like a blizzard of dark wings, choking him with claustrophobia on empty arid plains covered in bodies shredded by shrapnel.

Mom had assured her son he wasn’t crazy. He could just feel the demons glutted humanity’s senseless wars against itself.  

Adam‘s mind went back to Regan’s prophecy and felt an iron dread settle in his stomach, adding bittersweetness to the joy and relief coursing through his enervated body. 

Adam let the future go and drew Nell close against him again, just letting this moment exist for as long as hell allowed. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth ,” he murmured.

The tension in Nell’s shoulders melted as Adam pulled her back, savoring their togetherness for as long as she could, feeling true hope for the first time since...she wasn’t actually certain how long it had been, not even knowing how many days she’d been stuck in these hell-worlds. She drew a long breath while she was pressed against him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to assure herself that he was still here- still real even though it seemed impossible that he was. When they got back to Earth. It seemed like a far off hope, like shooting for the moon without any of that bullshit optimism of landing among the stars. “Then you can tell me the plan when we find a place that’s not suffocating us.” He wouldn’t have come without one, right? It was one thing to condemn himself to death, and she wouldn’t be entirely surprised given his generally self-sacrificing nature, whether that had been taught, was natural, or a combination of the two. But it was another entirely to forfeit the life of her as well by diving in without an extraction plan. He wouldn’t have risked the person he was saving.

The slaugh was worrisome enough as an omen of death, but there’d been more to consider when it’s eating of souls was brought into play. Nell still wasn’t all that sure whether she’d want to be raised from the dead in the first place should she perish in the next twenty-four hours, but if the slaugh ate her soul...she wouldn’t have a choice to begin with. You couldn’t raise a body without a soul. 

Again Nell fell silent while she drank in as much as this as she could, the dread in her stomach a constant reminder of how far there still was to go. But with Adam- at least she stood a chance. With Adam they could at least sleep, taking varied watches. And then maybe some of her magic would come back and Adam could heal, and then...well then they’d at least have a fighting chance together, always stronger together. Nell used her fragile strength to bring herself to the tips of her toes, trying to press a gentle kiss to his black-veined cheek before feathering across his lips. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to Earth,” she echoed, recognizing it as another promise they could hold between them. They’d go back to Earth together in the same way they’d fought the dolorphage, the way they’d faced an unknown future beneath the full moon all those months ago, and the same way they’d taken on a demon cult and lived to tell the tale— always together.

[florencwrites]

... and war 〚dreamwastaken〛

in which clay finds out firsthand, sometimes oblivion is bliss

part 1

"You do that a lot, you know?" She curled up in a ball on her side, glancing at the LED screen sideways. She'd been confined to this bed for a little over four months, the injuries to her head apparently so fucking impossible to figure out. It wasn't life threatening, they knew, but in what way wasn't it? She'd lost her life the second her head had made an impact with the window, the second her frail body had decided to give up on its, quite vital, functions.

His face lit up at the sound of her voice, eyes lingering on the screen a little longer than he had planned. He replied with a faint exhale. "What?"

"Worry." His brows unfurrowed the second the syllables left her mouth, his face relaxing as he opened his mouth to speak, to say anything. He closed it again soon after, realizing there was nothing he had on her. He did worry, a disturbing amount, too, perhaps. At least lately he did. No improvement for weeks will do that to any man, he reckoned. The love of his fucking life had been trapped inside her own mind for weeks with not even a glimpse of progress in peripheral.

"You're right." He nodded as his eyes slowly traced back towards the television, the new television he had finally been able to get her to allow him to get for her. He'd obviously granted himself the 'best one on the market', opting for also -coincidentally- the most expensive one. It had taken some convincing, perhaps some bribing too, to get the hospital to sign off on him entering her room with a powered drill. He was quite proud of himself for mounting it all by himself, her curious eyes following his every move as he clumsily tried to get it to just stay up. 'Bed rest' was her lazy excuse as she shrugged her shoulders provocatively. A chuckle had left his lips, his back still turned towards her as his white tee started sporting a few sweaty patches on the back.

"You don't have to do all of this for me, Clay." Her voice was barely above a whisper, his heart broke at the sound of it, like it had always done. She pulled at the strings of his heart almost menacingly with every word that left her mouth in that tone, especially.

A harsh creak screeched through the room, almost breaking his previously quite sturdy chair in the process, as he harshly turned in his seat. John the Cheapskate was long forgotten by the time her sad eyes found his, a soft glimmer to her pupils as she kept her eyes on his face, slowly tracing over his features. His voice sounded desperate as he reached for her hand, feeling limp in his. "Then let me do it all for us, instead."

A pathetic sob escaped her throat as she smiled through the immeasurable guilt that threatened to eat her from inside out. She felt it picking away at pieces of her, pieces she had only just learned how to pick up again, how to glue back to the rest. "Don't give up on this yet, please. I can't lose you again.." His lips stayed parted, his eyes not even daring to take a second to blink. Never had he felt the absolute terror he had felt in that second, her fingers felt so fucking cold to his touch. He could feel them slip from his in his mind, he could practically feel the emptiness overtake his being, once again urging him back to the pit he had finally learned how to climb out of.

A squeeze to his hand was all he needed from her, his lips curling at the ends at the tiny, tiny gesture. It was enough, more than enough. His mind raced back to the night he had first felt her digits cling to his again, a microscopic twitch in her fingers, barely detectable. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to notice it was he in any other situation, but God, it had been his sole focus for weeks. The absolutely elated scream that roughened up his throat for days following the incident, forced doctors and nurses originating from all over the floor to pile into her room.

"I'm glad she's well, Dream. Just.. Just take care of yourself, too, okay?" George mumbled into his microphone, he was absolutely ecstatic to hear from his friend again, days of radio silence prefacing his sudden reappearance. A groan sounded from his throat, annoyed at his friend bringing this up again. This wasn't about him, it never had been about him.

"I'm gonna need to hear you say it, don't just grunt angrily." If he wasn't so goddamn worried about his friend, he was sure to have shouted his ears off by now. However, George knew better, he knew screaming and fighting would get him nowhere with Clay, stubborn fucking Clay.

Clay rolled his eyes as his back landed against the papery wall, "I promise, okay? That good enough for you?"

"I guess." The brunette responded with disappointment laced in his words, just hoping for once to finally get him to admit something. "You-"

"Hey -uh- I have to go, man, she's back from, uh, therapy." God, when did he start feeling embarrassed about caring about his girl, about his fucking soulmate? It felt so wrong, and to be quite frank; he hated George for making him feel this way. His thumb found the end-call button hastily, almost confrontationally quick. She waved at him as she strolled through the hallway towards him, the wheels of the stroller-like device that never left her side, being connected to her veins and all that, awkwardly ticking against the tiles it passed over. He mumbled, meaning more for her to read his lips than to hear his actual tone, "Hi."

"Please, Clay, please don't cry. I don't-" Her voice was rough from the sobs that had passed through her throat the last several hours. "I don't think I can take it."

His eyes were filled to the brim with melancholic tears, threatening him to spill over, to lay all his cards on the table for him. "I can't help it, I'm sorry." She wouldn't be moving back in with him. She 'couldn't live someone else's life', she couldn't be trapped in the past if she didn't feel any sort of connection to it anymore. She wanted to move on, be friends, but move on. "I can't help it, I just keep thinking.."

A deep breath, his eyes forced closed, almost painfully so.

"I keep thinking about how you're going to end up with someone, and that someone isn't going to be me." Audible heartbreak echoed through her room, her empty room. She'd taken down the pictures, the drawings, the memories, and even the damned Christmas lights. Her throat closed up at the sight in front of her, he was in shambles. He was so absolutely fucking devastated to be losing her again, he was supposed to be her keeper, the one to make sure to never let anything happen to her ever again. They'd taken that from him, in fact, they had taken everything from him.

They sat on the edge of the hospital bed she would finally be leaving that week, hands clamped together tightly. For him it meant everything; reassurance that it would be okay. For her, it sadly meant nothing but bare comfort to the man -whom her mind still refused to acknowledge- sitting next to her. It stayed silent for a while, for minutes even. Only his heaving sobs and her shuddered breaths taking up the room.

"Why couldn't you just be mad at me, scream that I'm a worthless bitch or something." She joked sadly, a somber snort leaving his lips quietly.

No hesitation. "Because you're the love of my life."

Hesitation. "I'm sorry I was your soulmate, Clay, I am." Big strong breaths, a slight shake in her shoulders as if to muster up courage. "But I don't think you're mine, not anymore."

A wail escaped his lips before he could catch it, his salty tears staining his cheeks and neck, leaving wet streaks along the hem of his shirt.

"I don't know who I am without you." He put all of him in the open, completely bare and vulnerable in her presence. He had nothing to lose, not anymore, anyway.

She smiled at him sadly as his hand received another one of her infamous squeezes. "That's the problem, I think, me neither."

He couldn't take it any longer, almost panicked gasps screaming at him to just, please, let it all be a dream.

His sobs gradually fainted to heavy breaths, the room still spinning around him, but now, more of a carrousel rather than whirlwind. Each of the little carriages bringing new memories to the front of his mind, all the little things he had grown to love so damn much about her.

Prom night.

Wooden playground.

New cat.

Roadtrip.

First kiss.

Disneyland.

Holding hands.

Halloween.

First fight.

Moving in.

Second kiss.

Nevada.

Parents' divorce.

Roller skating.

Graduation.

Accident. All of it made him dizzy, she made him dizzy. His voice was so meek, so vulnerable, so close to another rough sob leaving his throat, however a faint smile pulled at his lips. His eyes closed in fear of what his mouth was about to ask her, in fear of it being the last thing he would say to her, in fear of closing a chapter he never wished would have reached its end. Shuddered breath, soft smile, light playfulness toying at his tone,

"We had one hell of a love story, didn't we?"

[technobladetimestamps]

Oct 16th Stream Timestamps

Timestamps from Technoblade’s “The Festival (Dream SMP)”

Link to my youtube comment with all of the timestamps x

Timestamps with hyperlinks below

02:25  trying and failing to do a video intro on stream 03:38  going to festival for recognizance / might be a trap 04:53  crossbow and rockets / "What is that RPG you're carrying" 06:21  "To be fair I did a 360 on a llama on a moving cart" "What jury would convict" 10:12  156k viewers 11:15  Quackity's unresolved minecraft monday trauma 15:05  171k / will accept money to switch streaming platforms / making war rockets 17:43  To-do list / "That's a good idea me from 30 minutes ago" / mobile wither supplies / not the time to talk about taxes 22:30  afraid of doxxing himself with display capture / "You can joke about me missing diamonds but not doxxing myself, that obliterates my anxiety" 28:29  would ditch on MCC to get clout on dream SMP / "My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined" / better not have to give a speech at the festival 31:12  naming his 4th fastest horse Carl / started raining so he's flying to Awesamdude / Technoplane 34:57  200k viewers / vc with Awesamdude / base tour 39:38  "Kill your friend now" (text from brother) / totally fair race with Antfrost 44:36  suspicious stew / "If Dream is in the audience looking for a new flex in the manhunt series..." 49:20  getting Dream to /give him glowstone (definitely not fake) / "One day you'll look back and go ohhh that's how he got glowstone" 51:52  making fun of Tommy and Wilbur for not being invited 53:45  Wilbur and Tommy spotted / vc with them / "In my defense I thought it'd be funny" / swearing 56:58  scaring Quackity 57:45  joining the festival vc / making fun of Tommy and Wilbur for not being invited / weapons testing 1:00:34  Fundy shows up / dunk tank 1:03:21  Fundy tries to drown Techno 1:08:00  "previous viewer record was 120k" / "hostile takeover of the flower shop" / "Welcome to the real world kid" / "EVERYONE GATHER AT L’MANBERG PODIUM" 1:09:12  "I'm here to gain intel on the enemy forces and man there are a lot of them" / celebration firework / shot quackity 1:10:18  Fundy killed / corpse looted / "Everything's coming up Technoblade" / "Technoblade stole my items on the Dream SMP 2 million views" 1:11:18  frozen paypal accounts / Fundy running back / Techno helping him stall 1:14:03  Jschlatt kills Fundy / "President, expert marksman" / "Maybe if you only let people with high pitched voices talk" 1:15:18  festival speech / "Chat stop spa.mming JFK nothing bad ever happens to the Kennedys" / adjourn to party 1:16:48  state secrets / "He's so humble and down to earth" / Schlatt can't swim / "Covid isn't real" (Schlatt) 1:18:14  green hands / "I'm not gonna JFK yet, this is reconnaissance relax. Chat I'm literally surrounded by enemies I'd get slaughtered" / pokimane island 1:20:03  national weaknesses / "Just guy talk" / giving Schlatt suspicious stew / only thing Techno has learned is that Schlatt can't swim 1:22:19  insulting Wilbur for removing the railing / "What other infrastructure do we want to talk about" / Niki helping with the info gathering 1:23:36  boxing ring / fighting Fundy and definitely not cheating / "WHO'S NEXT" / "I feel like I'm not here anymore" 1:26:46  Tubbo v Sam / "Wilbur why" 1:27:55  Tubbo v Quackity / "I've always dreamt about beating up child" / "You know what's hilarious, Dream has been trying to set up a Minecraft boxing match for literally 12 months" 1:29:46  definitely legit drug test for Tubbo / "I don't know if I feel comfortable playing in a competition that allows unsportsmanlike behavior like this" 1:30:50  Schlatt v Fundy / refuses to fight Techno / weapons in a boxing match isn't cheating "Most viewers dodgebolt has ever had" 1:34:05  "If I kill him..do you see how many people are going to maul me to death...Do you think I'm going to die for this cause?" / Fundy insulting Techno but he can't kill him without collateral damage 1:36:03  Schlatt hyping Tubbo up / "I bet you guys don't have any state secrets. so lame" / atheism pog 1:39:03  Tubbo speech / accusing Fundy of assassination 1:41:19  ominous vibes from Schlatt / trapping Tubbo 1:44:03  Techno gets called up / stalling 1:47:41  "Tubbo I'm sorry" / killing Tubbo / killing everybody 1:49:39  "This is the greatest crossbow of all time" (high voice) / Fundy enjoying a promotion 1:50:53  Niki yelling at Schlatt / Wilbur goes in / "I'm the Joker baby" / Techno defending Wilbur 1:52:53  "Do I look like a bad guy" "I mean, kinda" / "Shut up Technoblade, you had one job" "To be fair I did that job" / verbal contract 1:54:57  escape and fight / standoff with Purpled / "I think he's on lunch break" / heading back to Pogtopia 1:57:53  I told you so ft. Vilbur 1:59:06  "No one actually cares about honor" / "So you just bend to peer pressure" "Yes, immediately" 2:00:30  "Tommy's angry at you" / "What's wrong with you" "A lot of things" / "There were like 10 guys who would have jumped me" / "You're just another Jschlatt" 2:02:12  selling out / "Weaken them" / "Think you can destroy Manberg without my help" / "Go stand next to your president" 2:03:35  Wilbur and Tubbo instigating / "for content" / "screw you" / "joined the server to destroy the government" / combat pit 2:06:38  "I kinda forgive Technoblade" / "How we could have taken down Manberg" / "This is a man driven by his emotions" 2:08:58  "No hard feelings it stays in the pit" / "He's still a president" / "I'm not doing this for Wilbur" / Techno wins 2:10:35  plotting with Wilbur / agreed to resolve the conflict with fighting 2:12:58  finds a button in his inventory / "Do you think I would stop mass destruction Tommy" 2:13:54  "You're using words but the only universal language is violence" / "pink sus" 2:15:02  just roleplay / peaceful change of power won't work bc Schlatt won't play fair / "I forgive you for betraying us" / "We're not here to relocate your power we're here to make sure there's no more power to get" 2:17:00  Sam is joining team anti Jschlatt / as is Bad / opposing Schlatt for killing cats / single voter issue / "I want to leave a smoking crater from which...no new country will ever rise in its place" / BBH doesn't have a halo 2:21:47  crossbow happy noises / coolest weapon 2:25:03  didn't want to fight Tommy but Tommy threw the first punch / trident fly by / airstrike

[sapphire-strikes]

Seems like the FK has a chronic case of "I'd rather die than talk about my problems". The idea that; if you're not strong enough to take care of yourself then you're more of a burden to your friends than an actual friend. And if you can't get things together on your own then maybe they'd all be better off without you. While also being incredibly unaware of what a massive hypocrite they're being since they'd never think that way about anyone else and are still hell bent on helping others.

Final part of that little distressed FK prompt I have running! Thank you all again for reading and requesting!

Part. 1 Part. 2

The relief that filled his chest when he saw you across the street was immeasurable. You were out in the middle of town of all places, at least now he knew you were okay. Kamal and him were on their way to Jimothen's for a sort of impromptu meeting with a few of the other townsfolk. Everyone wanted to get together and plan you out a 'thank you' party or something to give you a bit of a break. A grand gesture to show you what you meant to everyone, you certainly deserved it.

Normally he'd be more excited about that kind of thing but he couldn't help but drag his feet a little. You needed something more than that. Not something bigger, just something different. Still, he was eager to contribute to anything that might help cheer you up.

The way you'd run away from him the other night, the way you'd acted was so full of fear. Despite how much you tried to sell it as anger, it was fear. You were so hurt and scared and even more scared to show it. There was so much he'd wanted to say but he couldn't find the words and opted to try and get you to stay until Kamal came back. In the end he'd only ended up scaring you more.

It probably wasn't a good idea to approach you out on the street. He still felt bad for upsetting you the other night but your pallid presence was tugging his heartstrings in your direction. You'd been on his mind nonstop. Even before you went completely silent you weren't eating properly or getting enough sleep and there was nothing he could do to help like he usually did because you stopped visiting. He could only imagine what you'd been doing to yourself (or rather not doing for yourself) cooped up in your house these last three days. Gaah, he was pulling his hair out just thinking about it!

In the end he couldn't help himself and ran to follow you. Stopping for a moment to look back at Kamal who had crossed the street pick up the bags you had dropped. When Kamal noticed him hesitating he put his hands on his hips and remarked in a half joking but encouraging tone.

"Well, what are you waiting on? You're not gonna let 'em get away again are you, doc?" No, no he wasn't, not this time. Nodding in determination, he rounded the corner after you.

It took him a minute to see you though the glass of Jimothen's. After doing a double take as he ran by he burst in more violently then he would have liked.

Maybe it was the adrenaline but he finally found the strength to speak up. He was scared that if he didn’t speak his mind now, he’d lose the chance and you'd go back into hiding. Unfortunately he wasn't expecting you to move away from him like you did and you ended up falling backwards.

Crap, were you hurt? That was his fault. You didn’t hit your head did you?

He gently reached forward to help you back up, watching your face closely for any signs of pain in case you actually did hurt something.

"Stay away from me!"

When you yelled he pulled back his hands like he’d just grabbed onto an electric fence, not to mention the fact that you'd just barely missed him with your swing.

"P-please..." 

You were still fighting to back away from him even though you were on the ground and you once again looked so scared. And once again he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it despite how much he was screaming at himself to find some way to help you.

When you eventually pulled yourself to your feet and began shuffling your way around him he couldn't bring himself to move, too scared of upsetting you further and just let out another apology.

Even he didn't expect your next move as you began insisting that you were going to be fine. Even you weren't denying it anymore. You were shaking and your eyes were turning red but it was your final words that sealed his conviction.

"I want to fix this, I-I just want things to go back to normal! So...don't worry too much, okay?"

You weren't just scared of sharing your problems, you were scared of losing your friends as a result of it. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into a bone crushing hug and never let go. He might have finally acted on the urge if Kamal hadn't appeared. Kamal's appearance seemed to have lifted all the tension in the air for just a moment and for second the distraught look on your face was replaced with one of uncertainty. Maybe this was it! Kamal was always so good with words, if he could talk to you maybe he could convince you to open up to them.

Then as quickly as that moment of peace began it was abruptly broken when you pushed pass Kamal and ran out the door.

Now you were finally sitting in his house. Curled up on the other side of the couch from him, staring at the wall. The way you sat there in defeat, having completely given up just made him feel worse. This wasn't what he'd wanted. Maybe they should have just let you go. Maybe you'd keep your promise and start talking to him again if he just let you do your thing. You were usually right about this sort of thing and you knew yourself better than he did right? That would make you happy right? No...no you shouldn't be alone right now. You needed someone to be there for you whether you knew it or not.

For the first time since leaving the Habitat, he felt scared to interact or even touch you.

Almost a year ago, when you'd approached him back at the Habitat, you showed him the tooth lily and hugged him. You had hugged him! The man that had just forcefully removed your teeth. You even held onto his hand and insisted he leave with you. 

After that you were always there to offer him a gentle hand on his shoulder or a hug when you saw him looking nervous. It took him forever to get the feeling of pulling your teeth out of his hands, like he was going to hurt you again just by touching you. But...you never flinched or even tried to stop him when he'd start doing small gestures like patting your head or placing a hand on your shoulder. Eventually those small gestures evolved into abnormally long bear hugs, riding around on his shoulders, tickle attacks and sleepovers. You'd even helped him through some of his worst breakdowns.

Maybe that's why this was so strange. Being friends with you was just second nature now and not comforting you felt more unusual than the alternative. You were his family and it hurt that he couldn't finally return your kindness. But he reminded himself of how you must have been seeing this situation, maybe...just maybe you'd never had anybody return the favor before. If that was the case then he wasn't going to let you off the hook as easily as you were used to.

You hadn’t spoken to either of them since you got to their house. It was a mixture of anger and not actually having anything to say. You even skipped out on eating anything. Kamal just sighed and let you go, assuring you that it would be in the fridge if you changed your mind. Boris on the other hand was visibly upset at your refusal to join them but kept quiet.

Looking back at Boris, he was practically hiding behind the corner as he watched you. You finally gave up, grabbing the bag and walking to the bathroom to change and brush your teeth. Boris was gone by the time you'd gotten back so your actions must have satisfied him.

Eventually night rolled around and they both began getting ready to turn in. After Boris had switched into his pajamas he stood nervously at the end of the hall watching you expectancy and seeming disappointment when you didn't move to do whatever he thought you were supposed to be doing. Was he waiting for you to get ready for bed? You were just going to sleep on the couch anyway so it didn't really matter... Before you could finish that thought you were hit in the side of the head by a soft duffle bag.

"Bedtime, kiddo, get ready!", Kamal yelled to you from upstairs, clearly satisfied with his aim. What even was this? Oh yeah, your over-night bag...you'd almost forgot you kept one here.

"Hey, look who's talking again", he mused and you shrugged. You didn't really care about keeping up the silent treatment, you just haven't had much to say.

A bit of time passed and you were starting to nod off from your spot on the couch when you felt someone sit beside you. The movement caused you to jump a bit but you settled back down when you saw who it was.

"Oh...hi, Kamal..." you offered half a wave then rested your head back on your knees.

"So, you wanna talk about what went down back at Jimothen's?"

"You said we weren't gonna talk about this until tomorrow." You replied flatly

"True, but if you look at the time it is technically tomorrow." He bargained and you looked at the clock. It was already half past midnight so he wasn't wrong. A long moment of silence passed then you finally spoke.

"I got angry..."

"Angry huh?"

"Yeah, and I yelled at Boris again."

"Heh, yeah, he told me about that"

"Then why are you asking me about it?", you snapped a bit but caught yourself and apologized, "I...I'm sorry."

"See, there it is!", he said in an inappropriately encouraging tone.

"There's what?", you questioned.

"There's our little flower shmoe!" He followed up but you still didn't understand what he was getting at.

"I'm not following..."

He finished his speech by leaning back onto his knees and chuckling slightly, "Hey, that last part rhymed, didn't it?"

He rolled his eyes jokingly, moving to sit on his knees and face you on the couch.

"You think you can scare us off, kid?" You just stared at him questioningly. "The way you've been acting, the hiding, the running away; it's gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of us now and you know why???" You were struck wordless by his sudden boldness and he took your silence as his cue to continue. "Because everybody loves you, Y/N! And they don't just like, love you love you, they love YOU." He pointed at your chest for emphasize. "I know who you are, kid, so does Boris. So do all those j-cats out in town. The way you ignored everyone and yelled, that isn't really you is it? And even if it was, we'd all love that too. Why? Because we love YOU."

"Don't worry about it, little buddy. Just think on it okay?" He looked around then stood up, "Well, I should probably get to bed. You too, don't stay up too late!" He smiled and ruffled your hair as he walked away, offering one last look in your direction before heading to bed, "G'night, Y/n".

You didn't know what to say.

"Kamal, I...." He raised a hand to stop you.

You sat alone for what felt like another few hours with Kamal's words buzzing around in your head and weighing on your heart. Was it really that simple? 

The sound of a door clicking sounded from down the hall. Normally you would have just ignored it but your talk with Kamal had you feeling restless so you got up to go see if he was still awake.

Unfortunately, Kamal's door was shut and the lights in his room were off which was a good sign that he really had gone to sleep. However, the hall was illuminated by a dim glow, which after closer inspection, seemed to be coming from Boris’s room as the door hung ajar.

You stepped around the door, standing in the ray of light that shown out into the hallway and found the room empty. That was strange, if he wasn't here then where was he? Your question was soon answered when you turned around to see the brightly colored :-) staring you down from the darkness. You jumped back, covering your mouth to stop yourself from screaming

• “I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be up!" He quickly apologized as he shifted back to normal. Boris was holding a glass of water, which made sense, he usually switched to his shadow form when he wanted to walk around at night without waking anyone up.

"No no, you're fine, you just startled me is all." You laughed at your own reaction, it had been a while since he'd startled you like that.

Boris sheepishly sipped his water in the doorway as if waiting for you to make the next move. Kamal’s words were still stuck in your mind. If you really were stuck with them worrying, you might as well start clearing the waters. That would make things easier down the line at least.

"I, uh, I'm sorry, Boris, for everything." You were feeling especially bold right now but he tilted his head questioningly. Did he really not know what you were talking about?, "For yelling at you before, I mean..."

"Oh, it's okay, I-I made you mad I know..."

"No, no you didn't, Boris! I...I was never mad at you, I don't think I could ever be mad at you." You put up a weak smile but it was sincere. "It's just that things have been kind of...I mean, I've been really..." As soon as the words started to form you reflexively cut them off. You looked up between your stutters to see that you had Boris’s full attention.

"Please don't stop keep going!" He begged but his insistence made a lump form in your throat.

"I...It's...it's nothing." What a weak cover up you thought, but old habits die hard and you were once again metaphorically running away. "I'll...see tomorrow, Boris, have a good night, okay?" You gave him another small smile and a wave and attempted to head back to your spot in the living room...only to be blocked...again.

You couldn't speak at first, your arms pinned to your sides as he kneeled down to adjust his hold on you.

Looking up you saw Boris giving you that same glare he had during his tussle with Petunia. Needles to say, it was more intimidating up close. You took a step back nervously, "Boris, I-I can’t I’m sorry I-

His stern expression didn't change but he reached a hand forward and slowly placed it on your shoulder. Your eyes followed his movement, almost flinching when he made contact. Your skittishness caught his attention and you noticed his expression soften sadly.

Without another word he moved forward, closing the space between you entirely as he wrapped both arms around you tightly.

"It's okay, flower...you do not have to be strong for me."

Your chest tightened and your breath began to hiccup. "Boris, I..." 

“I know...I’m just...I’m fine, Boris.” You didn't get a response but he refused to let go when you tried to pull away. His hold loosened as he unpinned your arms, rewrapping his arms around your torso under them and squeezing you a even tighter.

 “I mean it, Boris. I’m fine. Really, I promise...I-I’m...

“It is okay....

The next thing you knew you were lifted off the ground and carried over to sit with him on his bed. You were being held the way he would carry you or Kamal when you were asleep. Chest to chest with your arms around his neck.

All the hurt you'd been oppressing up until now finally hit you like a wave and it was all going to come pouring out. You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but you couldn't run now. Boris must have noticed that you were trying to hide your face because he placed one of his large hands on the back of your head and pressed your face gently into his chest. That simple act was enough make you finally give in and the sharp intake of breath you took let the both of you know exactly what was about to happen. 

You weren't sure what he was saying, but he spoke with such softness it made your heart melt. "шшш, глубокие вдохи..." His hand continued to make quick work of the tensed muscles in you back as he cooed to you. His voice coming out naturally in Russian as if he was completely engrossed in comforting you.

You started to sob. It was shaky and restrained at first but Boris softly worked to rub your back and help you steady your breathing until it turned silent.

"I'll squeeze all the tears out of you if I have to..." His tone was oddly serious but full of warmth. And despite the tears running down your face you let out a small laugh. "У меня есть ты, маленький цветок, все в порядке..."

A few minutes passed and he released you for a moment. A second later something was thrown over you. He had put on his coat and was working to button you into it with him. As soon as he finished he went back to holding you securely, his voice coming out in what sounded like a joking tone, "Теперь ты не можешь убежать!"

Boris seemed to be using every method at his disposal to get you to relax and the warmth and softness that was surrounding you was near euphoric. You were so tired and upset but finally giving into your ‘weakness’, you leaned into him completely, hearing a content hum come from his chest as you began drifting off. "Спокойной ночи, маленький цветок, сладких снов."

Before you got the chance to turn the doorknob the door opened on it's own and Boris almost crashed into you holding a small tray table. It took him a second to regain his composure, almost dropping the contents and quickly fumbling to regain his balance, letting out a sigh of relief when he finally stabilized himself. It took him a second to focus on you but when he did he pouted, "Aww, you are awake already? :-("

You awoke slowly the next morning. Half because of your lingering tiredness and half because of the incredible weight surrounding you. Opening your eyes you were surrounded by darkness with only a small opening above your head to let light in. Scooting yourself up, your head poked through the collar of Boris's coat. You were lying in his bed, wrapped in his coat. under a mound of blankets. He must have brought more in because you were almost positive there weren't this many here last night. The only thing missing was Boris himself.

What time was it? Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you managed to focus on the clock hanging on his wall. Oh, 3:30, okay. Wait, 3:30? You quickly jumped out of bed almost falling out as you struggled to unearth yourself from the excess of blankets and neatly folded Boris's coat to set it at the foot of his bed.

"It's 3pm, Boris. If anything, I'm sorry for sleeping in so long. And I-I'm sorry about last night, you shouldn't have had to-"

"I-

A hand was placed on your head and Boris was looking at you with a soft smile.

"Do you need another squeeze?"

"Wrong answer! It was a rhetorical question!", he was now balancing the tray table in one hand as he leaned down to wrap the other one around your waist, pull you up to his chest and do a little spin before setting you back down when your laughter seemed to satisfy him. "Oh yes! I almost forgot, I brought you breakfast for in bed! It's what they call a 'bed and breakfast'." He looked down at you and frowned a bit, "But you are not in bed anymore so it is just a 'breakfast'. He made air quotes with one hand when he said the work breakfast.

His entire spiel had you laughing, "I'm sorry, Boris, I still appreciate the surprise though. I'm sure it will be just as good if I eat it in the kitchen."

He perked right back up again, "So you'll still eat it, really?!" So that's what this was, he was just hoping to get you to eat something and this was his master plan.

You...you really were feeling so much better. In fact up until now, you'd almost forgotten why you were even here in the first place. There was still some stuff you had to work out but you knew for a fact Boris was dead set on helping you through it. There's no way you could shake him or Kamal off now and while the guilt was still present in your mind, you weren't entirely uncomfortable with that thought. "Of course, Boris, let's go."

"Okay, then we can all eat together! Kamal will be so happy!"

"Wait, Kamal's still here?"

"Yep, he's the one who made breakfast today! Him and I are taking the next couple days off for-" he cut himself off realizing he should think about his next words carefully "-family related matters!" He wasn't even being shy about it anymore and was a little too satisfied with how he had finished that sentence.

"Yeah, okay." You rolled you eyes, "Go ahead and tell him I'm coming. I'm gonna get dressed and I'll be out in a few."

"Okeee! Don't take to long!", he sing-songed, practically skipping out the door.

Kamal had promised that you were going to talk about everything today and you doubted the little chat you had last night would suffice. It was strange, things were already staring to return to normal. Despite your breakdown last night...Boris wasn't treating you any differently. Talking would still be hard, excepting their help would still be hard, but if last night and this morning were any examples of how the next few days were going to go then maybe you could find the courage to work through it.

Finally finished! Sorry, I got so caught up with this one specific prompt, looking forward to finishing up some normal requests! Thank you all again for your participation this was awfully fun to write!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

On Discontentment

by Thomas Gisborne

"For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. Now when he had agreed with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour and saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and said to them, 'You also go into the vineyard, and whatever is right I will give you.' So they went. Again he went out about the sixth and the ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing idle, and said to them, 'Why have you been standing here idle all day?' They said to him, 'Because no one hired us.' He said to them, 'You also go into the vineyard, and whatever is right you will receive.' So when evening had come, the owner of the vineyard said to his steward, 'Call the laborers and give them their wages, beginning with the last to the first.' And when those came who were hired about the eleventh hour, they each received a denarius. But when the first came, they supposed that they would receive more; and they likewise received each a denarius." - Matthew 20:1-10

When the laborers assembled to receive their wages, the owner of the vineyard bountifully directed that a sum of money--the same with that which he had contracted to give to the persons who had been hired early in the morning--should also be paid to the others who had been hired at later periods of the day, even up to an hour before sunset. This determination raised considerable discontent among the laborers hired earlier and who now imagined that they should receive an additional sum to the terms for which they had bargained. Disappointed, they murmured against the landowner, saying, "These last men have worked only one hour, and you made them equal to us who have borne the burden and heat of the day." The landowner answered, "Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what is yours and go your way. I wish to give to this last man the same as to you. Is it not lawful for me to do what I wish with my own things? Or is your eye evil because I am good?"

We may easily suppose the landowner, kind no less than just, had various motives and principles inducing him to act as he had done. Perhaps it was not from unwillingness to work that several groups of his workmen had lost part of the day, but merely because no man had hired them. Perhaps he observed them working with greater diligence than their companions who had been hired sooner. Perhaps he reflected that those hired at the eleventh hour would have to pay as much for necessities during the past day as the others. At any rate, he was under no obligation to account for his liberality. Those who murmured did not complain that he was withholding from them any portion of the sum which he had promised. They did not intimate that the sum which they received from him was not an equitable recompense for their labor. Their eye was evil because he was good. Because he was kind, they were grudging.

Let us learn a lesson from this parable. Discontent involves folly, ingratitude, and presumption. It charges the wisdom of God with folly. It implies that He has not distributed His gifts to the greatest advantage, that we could have chosen better for ourselves than He has chosen for us.

Discontent is base ingratitude to our Heavenly benefactor. Because He withholds some one particular gift on which we have fixed our desires, we refuse to render the tribute of cheerful thanks for the benefits which He has bestowed. He has crowned us with numberless blessings. He sustains and protects us by night and by day. He has mercy upon us, notwithstanding our continual transgressions. He has given his own Son to die for our iniquities. He sets before us a kingdom of everlasting glory. Yet because there is one object which He withholds or refuses--and withholds or refuses because He loves us--we are dissatisfied with His dealings and slight His immeasurable goodness.

Discontent is presumption against the Lord of the whole earth. It forgets that we are His servants. It assumes God's prerogative, and aspires to regulate after its own will the course of His providence, to dispense according to its own pleasure the works of His hand and the offices of His household. Shall an earthly master choose his own servants for the different posts in his house, and do you deny the same power to God? Shall an earthly master judge what is the situation in which this man may serve him best, and would you interfere with God in a similar exercise of His rights? Shall an earthly proprietor dispense his bounty according to his discretion, and do you call to account the Proprietor of all things for the manner in which He distributes His blessings?

Let me now suggest some considerations which may be instrumental, under the grace of God, in strengthening you against discontent. First, when you have procured those objects which you were so anxious to obtain, recall that they many times did not fulfill the expectations you had cherished. Second, when something you had set your heart on has proved unattainable, have you not learned by experience that its possession was of less importance to your welfare than you had supposed, and you have lived in reasonable comfort without it? Third, how often has the coveted object repaid you with more uneasiness when once acquired than before you possessed it?

Listen now to a word of encouragement. "All things work together for good to those who love God." Where, then, is the place for discontent? If you do not love God, on what pretense can you desire gifts and favor from Him? If you do love God, then all things work together for your good. Let us, my brethren, seek from the Giver of all good things the blessing of a contented spirit. "Let us be content with such things as we have, for He has said, I will never leave you nor forsake you."