#bird calls him stupid. self confidence shattered

[weebannihilator]

A bird was mildly rude to him and that got more of a genuine depressed reaction out of him than a majority of the literal death threats or insults hes gotten from actual demons

[lumilasi]

Decided to make this post to be only the siblings bio/ref. Also actually wrote them a proper bio lol

Names: Kujaku (peacock) and Jinko (eaglewood) Hisakata

Nicknames: 

Kujaku: Kuja-chan (most people friendly with her) Big sis (Jinko, obviously)

Jinko: Birdie (Youko) eagle boy, Shorty (Kouya, which depends on if they’re fighting or not)

Ages: Kujaku is 19, Jinko 17

Heights: 173 cm (Kujaku)  155 cm (Jinko)

Siblings with an abusive father, who were infected by Reverence after their village was destroyed/father was killed, and were taken in by Hanzoku’s group

Role: Subordinates of the “Family heads” of their group, their bosses are Amalia for Kujaku, Azure for Jinko. 

Family: Kujaku sees her fellow sect member Franziska as her big sister figure, and Jinko sees his boss Azure as a father figure, and fellow fighter Kouya as kind of a big brother.

Love Interest(s): (post main story) Hanabi Hikari-McCormac for Kujaku, Silas Viceroy for Jinko

Rival(s): Milo & Silas. This mellows out post main-story, and in the end only Jinko has a friendly rivalry with Milo

FRIENDS:

Jinko: Yoruga, Kouya, Youko. Post main story also includes Milo, Karuna, Mari, and Yago

Kujaku: Kiyoi, Yoruga.  Post main story also Silas, Quinn, and the Kravchenko brothers.

Powers:

Since their Reverence is similar, their powers are very alike;

Bird transformation: they can shapeshift parts of their body into those of a bird; long talons, claws, wings, etc. They can also remove their claws to turn them into weaponry. They can both fly, though Kujaku is better at it.

Kujaku specific: She can hypnotize people with her humming/screech so loud it can shatter glass and rupture internal organs. Kujaku is also generally faster and more skilled at flying.

Jinko specific: He’s really good at forming his talons into strong and durable weapons, and generally pretty good at close combat. He also has an insanely sharp vision and reflexes, able to spot and predict a threat from mile away.

PERSONALITY:

Jinko: He’s short-tempered, emotional, self-doubting mess of a teenager, who seeks validation from those he sees as above him, sometimes with reckless stunts. He tends to talk and act big and egoistical, but deep down thinks very lowly of himself and can easily be hurt by people’s words. Despite their arguments, Jinko loves his sister and hates seeing her hurt, let alone disappointed in him/worried over him. Jinko struggles with taking compliments, something that his BF has to slowly get him used to in the future.

Kujaku: Kujaku’s seemingly a very confident and independent young person, but like her brother she also seeks validation from her peers, and can easily falter if she feels like she’s failing. She is very protective over her little brother, having shielded him from their father’s rage most of their childhood. This has left her with some bitterness towards Jinko though, feeling like her life used to revolve around him. This sometimes causes her to turn nasty towards him, something she always regrets because she does love her ‘stupid little brother’ dearly. 

WEAKNESSES:

Jinko: Severe self-esteem issues, being needlessly reckless, overestimating AND underestimating his strength in the worst possible times. 

Kujaku: Cares too much about what people think of her, struggles to regulate her own emotions sometimes, can lose control of her flight when panicking.

(They’re both really just emotional, traumatized teenagers in need of proper parental figures)

FUN FACTS:

Kujaku really looks up to her boss, and is Amalia’s favorite subordinate/new protege. However, deep down she never fully trusted her, so when she realized Amalia did not truly care about her, she was instantly willing to turn her back to her to protect her baby brother.

Jinko developed a crush on Silas already during their first meeting, namely because Silas said something to him he took as a compliment, when it was just wordplay. (called him “cute,” but the full context was “It’s cute you think that---” lol)

Jinko is Azure’s favorite, and he shows it by being much more parenty with him than he is with others. Jinko doesn’t realize this for a long time, thinking the boss just thinks he’s weak. 

Jinko and Kouya often fight, because Kouya loves pushing his buttons. The hound demon does like him though, and will stop if he realizes he went too far with his taunts, genuinely upsetting Jinko.

Kujaku and Jinko argue a LOT, and it is their main tripping point anytime they attempt to work together fighting enemies. Jinko especially is envious seeing Milo and Silas working well together, which is basically the reason their rivalry is born.

It takes her a while due to so many disappointments, but Kujaku eventually accepts her GF’s mother as her honorary one, and loves helping her with gardening and magic potions.

Kujaku can’t hide her bird features, whereas Jinko can summon and un-summon them, as his Reverence infection isn’t as strong as his sister’s.

They both originally had vivid green eyes, now only Jinko’s other eye has it. Post-story they do gain their old eye-colors back, although Jinko’s other iris remains pink.

BG STORY: 

Jinko and Kujaku had an abusive parent who turned that way after his wife died due to Jinko’s birth. Kujaku spent a lot of her formative years shielding her baby brother from their father’s drunken wrath, often getting herself injured in the process. 

Then, their village was wiped out by a burst of Reverence, a strange demonic power that drove people insane or just killed them. The two managed to survive by running away, later eating a bird infected with this magic out of desperation as they were starving.

The pair was infected as well as a result, but both survived it and gained their powers, being found and taken in by a woman named Amalia Marek, who promised the pair they could help them understand their new powers and learn how to use them. Wanting to protect her baby brother and get them both a better life, Kujaku agrees to this, neither of the siblings truly knowing what they were singing up for....

[sneezefiction]

embrace

Tsukishima x Reader - Scenario 

@belli-jelly’s event request: “#7 with Tsukki ❤️ thank youu!”

a/n: “embrace” with Tsukishima is such a soft idea. he just needs a hug and to feel loved n supported n stuff, ya know? i hope u enjoy!! <333

warnings: slight language, angst (but barely?)

wc: 1990

---

Tsukishima makes his ways through the apartment door, kicking off his shoes a little more forcefully than usual. The thunk of the soles on the tile embodies whatever vexation he’d been simmering in for the duration of the day. A weak, frustration-fueled sigh exits his body.

From the kitchen, you can already tell that something is off. He hasn’t called out to you with his usual, “Hey stupid, I’m home.” You hadn’t even received his typical text telling you he was leaving the gym. The tense silence seeps into the airspace as he makes his way toward you, Tsukki’s feet dragging with every step.

As he turns corner, you’re greeted by features taut with fatigue. It’s as though he’d been running on empty all day, barely making it home with only fumes of energy leftover.

Tsukki’s eyes were undoubtedly strained. The white, intense light of the gym combined with deep concentration kept him on high-alert with eyes wide open at all times.

His shoulders maintained a somewhat slumped position, losing an inch or two of height in the process. The mental weight of handling everything on his own had finally reached him physically.

This hadn’t been a good day, per se.

And if Tsukki had the energy to speak, he would probably tell you how much he would rather be in a month-long coma than experience that level of misery again.

But the hushed air remains and a bizarre staring contest takes place between you two instead of passing words. It’s hard to speak when you know that, deep down, words could never do his terrible days any justice. That even a thoughtful sentence or a well-intended comment would simply drown under Tsukki’s sea of thought, never resurfacing or coming up for air to be heard or understood.

He’s too exhausted to process even the shortest of loving dialogues. And you can tell.

So you sift through other possibilities.

Ways to calm him. To remind him that you care and want to look after him.

Should you make him dinner? He’s probably already eaten. Watch a movie together? No, the light would bother his tired eyes even more. Just go to bed? He would only continue to stir through his disappointments and be kept up by the throbbing of soreness in his legs.

As your eyes trickle down the length of his body, which is now leaning on the countertop as he takes a long sip out of his water bottle, you come to one final alternative…

But it’s always a bit of a gamble. A slight risk.

To touch or not to touch.

Would he lean into it like a self-satisfied, curious cat, tilting his lean body into your affectionate antics? Or would his brittle, biting character and miserable mood cause himself to crumble and fall away from the warmth and comfort of your smaller arms?

On one hand, you might experience your beloved Tsukishima’s gentler side. The one that held you as though he were a mama bird wrapping her wide-spanned wings around your precious form. Instinctively protective. A second-natured response to the way you circled your arms around his torso, tugging him into your field, requesting closeness and vulnerability. It could potentially get his mind off of the day and focus him on the here and now.

But on the other hand, Tsukki had a track record of off days. Jumping away from the soft glide of the pads of your fingertips. On those days, your embrace seemed to resemble that of a thorny, roseless bush to the wavy-haired blonde. The chance of him tugging away, leaving you drained and drooping, was higher than you had ever wanted to bet on. The possibility of him ending up at the opposite side of the bed seemed to increase after experiences like these.

And to be honest, you could never be sure if the touch-deterring wall he built up was to protect himself or you. Yet you always try to find ways to chip away at his salty, skeptical barrier without overstepping any fragile, unspoken boundaries.

It’s a simple concept. However, avoiding his sensitivities is an endless dance and is much harder than it may look. Especially at the end of a long day of pro-league practice, where sweat, sulking, and inferiority complexes don’t usually mix well.

But this was the only viable option left, so you get over your own worries and approach Tsukishima’s weary form. You stop just a few inches before him, his eyes dropping to meet yours. He was even more beaten down up close. The defeated expression he carried in tandem with his worn-out demeanor made you physically ache for him. 

“Tsukki… you’re not lookin’ too hot right now.” You let out a breathy laugh, slowly lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to brush a hand through his messy hair, testing the waters.

He doesn’t flinch away from your movements, so you sink back down onto the soles of your feet, letting your hand run down the side of his face.

“No shit, Sherlock. I don’t exactly feel great either.” He shoots back, but there’s a somber, troubled tinge.

Tsukki inches toward you, looking away as he tilts the side of his head into the palm of your hand. Your fingers cup his cheek.

Everyone knew how Tsukki acted when he was annoyed or angry. Snappy, sarcastic comments would be strewn in an almost poetic manner, kindly crushing those under his scrutiny. Many had seen Tsukishima after a merciless game, beaten and worn out. He would still have a muted fire behind his efforts and would carry himself with dignity, even if he didn’t feel confidence rise inside of him.

But gloominess? It doesn’t suit him. Not now, not ever.

And currently, he’s emanating a dreary, depressing sadness, like being caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella to shield you. It’s helpless and uncontrollable. Utterly humiliating.

You can practically feel the strain of the day radiating off of him. Tsukki had a tendency to wither slowly and cautiously. Not allowing anyone to watch as his snarky comments fizzled out and his sharp gaze gradually dull. By the look in his golden eyes, it was obvious that something in him had already snapped like an old tree branch. Battered and bruised by storm after brutal summer storm, finally shattering under the repetitive pressures of failure and imposter syndrome.

In the past, he had let apathy take over in order to not burden you. Withholding affection, thinking it would keep you safe from his sinking atmosphere when in reality he wished to drink in your tenderness. To fall under your grasp, sinking his head under your chin and lay across your chest.

But maybe it was all too much.

Too much to hold in. To carry alone.

“Kei…” At the use of his first name, he physically softens. Drawing his arms around your middle and clasping his hands behind your back, he gently rests his chin on your head.

“You can always lean on me.” You whisper into the fabric of his shirt.

Your words carry a deeper semblance. That you really are here for him. Physically, mentally, and emotionally ready to lift him up.

You picked a good time for physical touch because he only pulls you in tighter.

He’s pretty warm and smells like sweat mixed with deodorant and his cedar-scented shampoo. You grasp the cloth and squeeze him into you, making sure to keep him steady and balanced. His breathing falls into a gentle rhythm, almost as though he were falling asleep standing up.

“If you weren’t so lanky I would pick you up, but you’re a damn tree.” You sigh, poking fun at him.

The touches were cathartic. Healing. Authentic. Your lighthearted comments kept things comfortable, hindering him from drawing away due to feelings of unworthiness or self-consciousness.

“Wow, okay, bold words for someone who can hardly seem to pick up a bag of flour. You couldn’t hold me even if you were my height.” He snickers, tension releasing and adrenaline wearing off from the high-energy day.

You shift to look up at Tsukki, your chin gently pressing into his chest. He’s already staring down at you. You can’t help that a blush works its way up your neck and onto your cheeks, the warmth from his unusual touch sending you unwarranted fuzzy feelings. As much as you wished this embrace could be all for Tsukki, you’d wanted to hug him with all your might for a while now.

“Y/n… Honest question, so don’t laugh at me. Why are you doing this?” Tsukishima breaks eye contact, arms shifting to lean your chest more on top of his as he sinks a little deeper onto the counter, his back supported by the ledge.

“What do you mean by ‘this’?” You inquire, eyes still fixed on him, searching his expression.

“I mean... You know when things are going to shit. You know when I need something. A back massage, a slap to the face, hell, even a coffee sometimes.” He snorts, trying not to take his own question too seriously.

You’re the one to sigh now. Doesn’t he know how these things work by now? That being in a relationship with him meant more than insulting the daylights out of each other and going out to dinner? Apparently even Tsukishima lacks a lot perspective when it comes to loving another human being.

“You’re stubborn as hell.” You state plainly, your face going blank.

“What?”

“You refuse to see that you need help too sometimes, babe. Hate to break it to ya, but I actually like listening to and hugging you.” You break into a small smile.

“What does that have to do with anything?” He rolls his eyes at your confusing sentence.

“Are you that dense?” You express with mock disdain at his response.

“Tsukki, I’m saying that you don’t burden me! That I want to be there for you even after shitty days like these! You’re an absolute dumbass!” You snicker and your smile reaches your eyes, crinkling and squinting as his meet yours.

Instead of saying anything, Tsukishima rests in place, dumbfounded.

It’s true, you always were there for him.

Cheering at every game. Cooking dinner for him when you knew he would get home way too late and practically starving. Letting him rant relentlessly about losses and seemingly endless practices.

So why was it that only after breaking down in every way possible, he would finally let you see his most vulnerable thoughts and fears. That he would allow you to witness his exhaustion only once it had reached its peak. That it took Tsukki completely collapsing to let you wrap you arms around him.

And you both guess that it’s because old habits die hard.

Tsukki would always be Tsukki. A little too cold and relentlessly set on drenching others in his never-ending supply of sarcasm. Reluctant to accept help until it was already showing through the bleeding cracks of his figure and laced within his pained speech.

Because for someone so good at putting up and breaking through blocks, Tsukishima needed help with the walls that he had built up under his skin over the years. He needed to see that he couldn’t always protect you from his fears, but that you would be there to help him fight them. Or at least hug them away when it all got too much.

And as he presses a gentle kiss onto your forehead, you know it will be okay. Because embraces like these are what chip away at walls of fear. It’s the first step and you can already feel the tension crumble away, allowing warmth to surround the two of you. 

So you begin to remind him more and more that you like hugs. And he lets you hold him far more often, slowly but surely letting you deeper into his mind and into his arms. A much needed and highly welcomed addition to your everyday life.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[linkspooky]

ozone hawks wants to shelter jin from the coming storm of the hero invasion and know he’ll be safe when it’s over, even though he’s the one putting him in the most danger // writing for the jinkei bang written for this art by @comradetodoroki​

Storms have always put me at ease. 

There’s  something about the way they ravage our ridiculous world and wash it away like so much sludge. 

🌩️

He pulled his hands back through feathered hair. He smoothed it, only for it to pop back up ruffled again. It’s out of character. It’s anxious behavior. Hawks needed to be smooth. Water had to roll off of him and nothing could stick to him otherwise he would get weighed down. He’s just talking. Someone is talking. It’s amazing how his mouth is like a machine. He can hear the words come out and he doesn’t have to think too hard about them because he’s been trained at talking to others. 

But this guy. Jin. He’s easier to talk to than most. 

“It’s pretty dumb for a bird to be afraid of heights.” “Yeah, yeah. It’s bird brained.” “…You are my favorite person for saying that.” 

Hawks doesn’t bear his soul, that sort of requires having a soul and a soul is another thing that would weigh him down. Jin asked him what his fear was, actually Jin talked about his fears. It turns out Jin is afraid of almost everything.

Jin, Jin, he’s calling him Jin now. It’s Twice. Hawks doesn’t know if he’s scared of anything, but then Jin stared at him with those big eyes and he realized he was supposed to say something and ‘heights’ was the first thing that came out of his mouth. It’s not exactly heights, he can be in high places just fine. It’s the idea of falling. It’s out of his control, the falling. He doesn’t even mind the idea of hitting the ground. Just, smashing, and leaving a carcass of feathers, and fragile bones shattered. It’s the idea of falling forever unable to control his trajectory, utterly helpless. Falling at terminal velocity. The air doesn’t leave your lungs like you’d expect it to. And even though you’re surrounded by nothing but air, you’re suffocating, drowning in the blue sky. No, maybe it was the sky that scared him. 

Everyone else looked up at the sky and saw freedom. It was so liberating. The sky seemed endless to Hawks. But there was nothing to see. Jin suddenly threw his arms around him from behind, looping them on his shoulder. Jin- Twice was so touchy feely, and so heavy, almost too heavy as he leaned his entire body weight on Hawks. Hawks stumbled forward and hit his face against the glass of the window in the room the two of them used as a hangout. “Let’s go outside! No, I want to stay in my room forever. I’m never going to be a corporate slave, I’ll be a NEET like Spinner!” Twice tended to have two minds about everything, but Hawks was a good listener. “We can’t go out in full costume. People will see us.” Hawks wondered if he was really listening. Birds have a habit called mirroring. They can imitate the noises humans make with their mouths, they can say words, but it’s not like the words carry any real meaning behind them. Just a hollow imitation. He is a mirror that Jin looks into and sees a friend. Jin suddenly has a burst of energy and shakes Hawks by the shoulders. Hawks was shaken. His head bobbed back and forth. “Please, please, please. I’m not going to beg you.” 

“Look, at least one of us has to have common sense.” “And it’s me, right? Because I’m just a normal guy. I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jin.” 

“Yeah, totally.” Hawks doesn’t want to be mean. “You don’t want to be seen with me, is that it? Well, I’m too cool for you anyway.” Jin had stopped shaking him now, and Hawks kind of wished he would have kept at it. Now that they’ve both stopped, Jin’s hands were on his shoulders. His large hands, capable of holding so much. And Jin stared into his eyes. Jin is wearing a mask and yet his every feeling is so obvious. The emotions in those eyes… heavy. Heavier than the whole sky, like the sky’s weight bearing down on him, crushing him. 

“Yeah man, you’re way out of my league. The cool kids never let me hang out with them in high school. That’s why I became a villain.” Actually, he never even went to high school. “But that’s not it. It’s going to storm soon.” “Huh? So what?” “Can’t fly if my feathers get wet.” “Have Dabi dry them off for you!” 

“Um, thanks but no thanks.” “How do you know it’s storming anyway?” 

“I can feel it in my bones,” Hawks chirped. He can. His bones are light and hollow so he can fly, and when he was with Jin he felt a sort of empty pang in them. A feeling that made his toes curl, and his fingernails dig so deep into his palms that he left red welts. ��Are you an old man?” “Something like that…” Hawks muttered. He certainly wasn’t a kid. He never was. “If we don’t go outside right now, I’ll cry. Is that what you want? You want me to cry? You meanie, big bully, villain, fiend! All of my friends will beat you up!” Hawks opened his mouth. He tasted only air. He dry swallowed. Twice smiled so earnestly with his whole face, in a way that it couldn’t be a lie. For some reason the thought of making him cry at this moment cut him. It peeled back all the layers, scars, skins, feathers, bone. Hawks was caught completely offguard. Bad, bad, bad. He was the one manipulating Jin, not the other way around. He couldn’t be moved by this he must stay firmly rooted to the ground. He closed his eyes and put on a smile, his smile so fake compared to Jin’s. “Awe man, I can’t say no to you, huh?” 

🌩️

“This is the best day ever. This is the worst day ever! I can’t believe it rained on our parade. Jin, you stupid idiot, who would ever throw you a parade?”

The pounding of raining, the rolling of thunder, both of them beat against Hawks relentlessly. The two of them stranded on a park bench. The noise of the storm washed away everything else, and it was like the two of them were the only ones there. If this storm was some kind of apocalyptic hurricane that washed away everything would and the two of them were the only ones left. If nobody was watching, under the cover of the noise of the storm, could he be his true self in front of Twice? Probably not. Anyway, enough with the deep thoughts bird boy. They walked for a little bit before it suddenly started to storm. The entire time Hawks studied Jin’s hand as if he was trying to comprehend the shape of it. He even tried to reach for it once, only to grasp at empty air when Jin suddenly got distracted by it and turned around. “Hey, a bird! A bird! Look at the stupid feathery asshole! You can talk with birds, right?” “God, I wish…” Hawks stared at the place where Jin’s hand was supposed to be with melancholy, but thought it was probably a bad idea in the first place. Then suddenly, Jin noticed and grabbed his hand. He made it seem so simple. Touching other people, being close to other people. Then the rain started, and the two of them were on the bench and Jin freaked out. He raised his hands up in the air, and played nice guy to calm Jin down. “Hey, hey, I don’t really mind.” “You should mind! You should care a little bit. You’re so careless.” Oh no, Jin was agreeing with himself for once. Hawks wondered what he had done. He could read the emotions on his face, but he didn’t really get what other people felt. He just knew he probably felt less than them, he was lighter, more hollow. “Oh come on, I care as much as the next guy.” That was a lie. He lied without showing anything. 

Hawks fidgeted. Sitting still was, hard, difficult. And Jin looked at him so intensely, in a way he wasn’t used to being looked at. He hated being scrutinized, was Jin suspicious? No maybe he just hated being seen. “You don’t care about yourself at all!” “What? We’re talking about me? Don’t I talk about myself enough? I’m a little bit self-obsessed. You know, pretty bird, pretty bird.” Hawks cooed. “You looked so upset! So I tried taking you out to cheer you up, but then I screwed it up and it started raining, and you don’t even care at all.” 

“Ah, I was sad?” Hawks head tilted, as if he might comprehend better by looking at Jin from a slightly different angle. “Hey, hey, no reason to be upset. Nothing bad is going to happen.” Lots of bad things are going to happen very soon. Hawks wing moved. Even though he was sure he did not give it the command. His wing moved on his own, it stretched into the sky and curled around Twice serving as an umbrella. His feathers stretched as far apart from each other as possible. He did not want a single drop of rain to touch Twice. He wanted Twice to stop shivering with the chill of rain.

How many people had he saved? Countless. Thousands, probably. He did it without thinking. He had complete confidence in himself. Then, why was he so afraid that he might not be able to save this one person. That he could do nothing to protect him from the coming storm. The people he saved were always faceless. To be honest, he was afraid of looking them in the eye. Even when they thanked him, he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t do anything special. He had never wanted to save one person so much. And he might not. He might let him fall. Twice’s words are gravity. They drag him back from where Hawks is always floating. “You’re not understanding me. It’s my fault.” “No, you’re not, it’s fine.” “Stop saying it’s fine. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Dabi’s going to light your pants on fire, then you’ll just be standing there without any pants and everyone will laugh. Liar, stupid, I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

Twice suddenly grabs his head. A piercing headache. A splitting headache. Hawks does not know what to do so he simply floats there, his hands just hanging there in the air unable to grab anything. 

“This is getting in the way.” Twice grabbed at his mask. He clawed it for a moment. It’s like he’s trying to scratch the skin off of his face. Hawks felt an immediate sense of danger. Fearful. Twice is broken. He broke into jagged edges. Glass that can cut and sink deep into you. He pulled his mask off slowly. 

“Hey, you should put that back on.” Hawks said, genuine concern creeping into his voice. He realized, he didn’t care about blowing the mission, he didn’t care about the hoops he’d have to jump through to explain being seen with league of villains Twice in public. He just doesn’t want to see Twice break in two pieces in front of him. 

“It’s fine, I won’t break apart if you’re here.” But I’m not here. “Hawks, I want to meet you…” “But, I’m right here?” “I know. What I mean is. I just want to meet you.” 

The mask was getting in the way. Of what? Hawks perched on the bench, his knees drawn up to his chest, huddling like a child. He made himself look as small as possible. A nesting instinct. He wanted to be cozy. He wanted to be comfortable. To feel like he belonged somewhere. Jin, sitting on the other side of the bench. Hawks’ wings outstretched, the two of them udnerneath the same unmbrella. Jin’s hair, bleached white by stress. A large scar running down the center of his forehead. A perpetual five o clock shadow. A latex suit that covered his whole body, and the muscles which bulged underneath. He could see the way they shifted  as his body moved and studied it in close detail. There was something about the way he was shaped that made him look comfortable to lean against. His toes tap awkward on the ground, because Twice is as bad at sitting still as Hawks is. The rain was so loud, and even louder is Jin’s breathing, and his heartbeat, and Hawks’ senses were finely tuned to both. Jin’s shoulders were broad. Hawks’ were concave and narrow. They were going to break. It was heavy, too heavy. Heavy like gravity. He noticed finally that Jin was drifting towards him. Jin was falling. Hawks has to look at him directly, what good is the terrifying draw of gravity unless you know what you’re facing. Jin’s lips get closer, and Hawks’ imagines what it would be like to be tickled by the unshaven scruff on Jin’s chin. There are so many details that make up Jin, and Hawks’ is just not there, he is not present, he is observing the scene from behind a pair of eyes but he can’t be there with Jin. He can never be there with anyone. 

“You wouldn’t like me,” He finally murmured. Hawks said, trying to get what’s happening to stop. “How come?” “Because I’ve met him. I don’t like him.” “I used to not like me either, but even when you don’t like yourself there are people that will like you.” Jin probably didn’t like him. Jin is just a person who would be kind to anybody. All Hawks needed to do was look a little pathetic and Jin pitied him. That was all this was. He was nothing special to Jin. He was nobody special. He had been told that enough times. If he died, if he fell out of the sky what would happen? The hero rankings would shift a little bit and that would be all. There were plenty of people that used him but no one really needed him. Jin gets closer and his lips pull back. Hawks’ contemplated what it would be like to be struck by lightning. A hot stinging pain, every single muscle in your body tenses, and locks. A whiteness you see behind your eyeballs. You spend an  eternal moment trapped, your brain sending signals but your body not listening to them, you tingle because your brain can’t comprehend the intensity of what you’re feeling. 

Is it painful? That’s not it, it’s a sensation that’s impossible to describe. Then you wake up after it’s done, and there’s a scar left in your skin. The point of contact between his land twice’s  lips felt like they were burning as Twice pulled away, or maybe that was just his imagination. The acrid smell surrounded him. His nostrils wee full of ozone. His brain was full of fear. The entire sky is contained in Jin’s eyes for that brief moment. There’s a queasy feeling inside of him, dizzying, and it’s the first time he’s ever felt the joy of vertigo. He doesn’t know where he is or how he feels and it’s unbelievably pleasant. Jin is the entire sky. Jin would never know how much Hawks wanted to throw himself into the arms of that vast emptiness. Hawks’ head is empty. He’s empty. But he’s not. He’s filled with secrets, and lies. When he wants to think about nothing more than Jin and the smell of ozones, a thought broke through. It’s like a crack in the mirror. Hawks immediately rocked back. You lied to him. Jin looks like he did something wrong. Hawks wants to tell him he’s done nothing wrong but that’s not true, he’s a criminal, a murderer. A good kisser, but with blood on his lips. Hawks’ hands flew in the air. “I-I’m just shy. I’m a shy bird.” He pulled the collar of his fur jacket all the way up to just below his nose to conceal the expression on his face. 

Hawks looked at the scar that cut cleanly across Jin’s forehead. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought. Jin who had given him so much, and Hawks would only give him scars in return. His hands, his lips. There would be lines carved on his skin wherever he touched. Hawks’ and Twice the fact that they met was an incredibly unlikely event like a lightning strike, and just like a lightning strike it never should have happened. It was luck, it was bad luck. He would mark him worse than any lightning strike.The places where he had once caressed so sweetly would only burn now. He should have smelled the ozone ahead of time. He should have seen the storm coming. But it’s too late now, and he’s stuck here with Jin, and he’s completely hopeless, and he can’t fly in the middle of a storm the wind will whip at him back and forth and the water will soak him, and chill him down all the way to the bone. Hawks finally gasped for air. Ozone in his lungs he had forgotten to breathe.” “Twice.” “Jin, you can call me Jin. I always call you by your first name.” 

“…What do you think my full name is?” “Hawks Birdman?” Hawks wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. He was someone who could not even smile correctly. “Wait, wait, wait, is that not your real name? Oh shit, oh shit, I’m so dumb. I’m so dumb.” Jin rocked back and forth and Hawks was completely still. He finally looked Hawks in the eye again. “W-we don’t have to kiss ever again if you don’t want to. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” Why was he the one apologizing? Why was Jin apologizing? “It’s really hard to tell what you like and don’t like sometimes. If I got something wrong, I’m sorry because I’m stupid, and I don’t think, but ummm…can I call you by your real name?” “One day…” “When?” “When the storm ends.” Hawks said. Everything he said so far to Jin was a lie, and that might also be a lie. But he didn’t want it to be.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Little Coffee Shop 2/?

Uh, so I didn’t mean for this to be so long. It just sort of happened. Secondly, MAJOR WARNINGS in this one. If you’re uncomfortable with the topics mentioned below, you can skip this update. 

Pairings: Eventual Pietro x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of mental and physical abuse. Physical Abuse/Violence. Language. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS MAY MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE. The reader has an abusive boyfriend and he makes an appearance. Please be mindful.

No Tag List for this one. Just in case.

Word Count: 1682

For the next few months, you get used to the new additions to the Avengers. Wanda and Pietro actually come in quite often. Clint went home to spend time with his family and welcome in the new baby so you were concerned you would stop seeing the Sokovians. Wanda and you had developed a friendship of sorts. The two of you had met for lunch a few times and you really enjoyed spending time with her.

Pietro…was a little bit of a different story. Every time he saw you, he either flirted with you or just watched you work. You thought it was sweet, even if you didn’t believe a word he said. You were in a…complicated position with your ex and it had decimated your self-confidence. The man had been abusive, both mentally and physically, and you had finally ended the relationship a month before you met the Sokovians. You had found him in bed with another woman and that had been the final straw. Unfortunately, the two of you shared an apartment and the lease was in both of your names. You couldn’t afford to break it and so, you resigned yourself to waiting it out. You rarely spent any time within the apartment and neither did he. When you were there, you locked yourself in your room and stayed as far away from him as possible.

The man didn’t know how to leave you alone though. He would try to send you flowers to your job. He would try to cajole you out of your room to “talk” then scream and beat at your door when you told him no. The constant fear was starting to get to you, and it showed in your everyday life. You slowly became even more reclusive, you jumped at loud noises, and you barely slept. He hadn’t hit you since the night you broke up with him, but you were constantly afraid it would happen. You knew you needed out, but you just didn’t have the money to break the lease.

The older members of the Avengers knew something was going on. They’d known you long enough to know that your change in behavior was unusual and eventually, the twins also caught on. The enthusiasm you usually showed at seeing them withered away and all of them decided that it was time to figure out what was going on. It got to the point that there was at least one Avenger in the shop every day of the week. They tried asking the owners, who you were close with, but even they didn’t have any idea what was going on.

It all came to a head though, on a day that Natasha, Steve, Wanda, and Pietro were sitting at one of the back tables. You were making their drinks, your back turned to the door when you heard the bell above the door ring. You called out your greeting but heard nothing in return. You brushed it off until you heard the thunk of something heavy being set on the front counter. You turned to locate the source of the noise and felt all the blood drain from your face. Standing at the counter with a vase of flowers was your ex. He was leaning against the counter with a smirk and whistled at you when he caught your eye.

“Hey, sugar. You still mad?”

“Robert! What-what are you doing here?” You couldn’t keep the waver out of your voice, and you felt your hands shaking. Pietro, who had been watching you work, quietly got the attention of the others and they all watched the exchange.

“Come on, sugar. I figured I could bring you flowers and then we could go get lunch.” The smile he was giving you sent shivers down your spine. You wrung your hands and stayed away from the counter, keeping as much distance between the two of you as you could.

“I, uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Immediately the smile dropped from his face and anger replaced it.

“Why the hell not?” You sucked in a sharp breath, your fear making it hard to breathe. You noticed the group in the corner tense, Steve standing up and watching with his arms crossed. Seeing the Avengers in the corner, ready to defend you, gave you a bit of courage. You straightened your spine and stood tall. Approaching the counter, you pushed the vase back over to Robert.

“You know why. We’re through. Please leave.” You immediately regretted moving closer. Rage crossed Robert’s face before he swung at you. The punch connected with your cheek, sending you to the floor. He had just enough time to throw the vase at you as well before Pietro was ripping him away from the counter. Steve and Pietro wrestled him out of the shop while Natasha and Wanda rushed to your side. You sat up slowly as your mind shut down. Shattered glass and flowers slipped off you, but you barely registered it. Your arms and face were littered in small cuts and you could already feel your eye swelling shut from where he had punched you. Wanda reached for you, trying to talk to you, but you flinched back hard and stared at her with wide eyes.

“Wanda, go outside. Make sure the guys don’t do something stupid. And call the police.” Natasha spoke quietly. Wanda hesitated but nodded, leaving the shop to check on the guys. Natasha slowly kneeled to your level and managed to catch your eye. “It’s just me now, baby bird. Will you let me help you?”

You just stared at her for a moment, not quite processing what she was saying. Slowly, you reached out your shaking hands to grasp hers. Natasha helped you stand carefully before pulling you into her arms. That was all it took for everything to hit you. Like a switch flipped, you broke down sobbing. Natasha held you through it, eventually pulling you away from the mess on the floor and sitting you down in a chair. She sat calmly beside you and let you cry everything out. You shakily told her everything that happened.

Natasha stayed by your side while the police interviewed you. She sat with you while the EMT’s looked you over and deemed you alright to forego the hospital. The police arrested Robert, taking him away in a police car. The owners of the shop arrived shortly before Robert was taken and insisted on you taking some time off away from the shop. You tried to argue, explaining that you couldn’t afford to, but they weren’t having it. Still, Natasha stayed by your side. She quietly explained that she would take care of your expenses, whether you wanted her to or not, and that you would be taking the time off as well.

“Nat…I can’t go back to that apartment. Please don’t make me.” You whispered to her. The EMT’s had given you a blanket (for the shock, they said) and Natasha wrapped it tighter around you, before putting her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side.

“You won’t. You’ll stay at the tower with us.” Natasha led you over to where Steve, Wanda, and Pietro were standing. Steve was talking on his cellphone but ended the call as you two approached. Wanda was speaking softly to Pietro, who looked livid still, but they also stopped speaking. You lowered your eyes, not wanting to see the pity on their faces.

“Hey, doll. Let’s get you back to the tower.” Steve spoke softly, likely afraid of spooking you. You gripped the blanket around your shoulders tighter but nodded. Steve walked ahead of you and Natasha, while Pietro and Wanda brought up the rear. People cleared the sidewalk for your little group, the look on Steve’s face keeping them out of the way. When you finally reached the tower, the first thing you noticed was Clint pacing in the lobby. As soon as you saw him, you lurched out of Natasha’s arms and threw yourself into his. Clint had always been a father figure to you, and you found comfort being with him.

“You didn’t have to come.” You mumbled into his chest.

“Are you kidding me?! That asshole is lucky I don’t shoot him.” Clint ranted. “You should’ve come to me the first time he put his hands on you. I-“

“Clint.” Natasha cut him off. “Now is not the time.”

“I know…I know. I’m sorry, baby bird.” Clint sighed, resting his head on yours. “Come on, let’s get you settled. I know you have to be tired and hurting.”

You let him lead you to the elevator, noticing the others waiting back as you reached. You stopped, Clint shooting you a confused look as you turned back to face them. You hesitated, before you slowly walked back over to the group. You gripped the blanket tighter again before forcing yourself to look at them.

“I- I’m sorry, that you guys got caught up in that but thank you. All of you.”

“You have no reason to apologize, Prinţesă.” Blinking in shock, you looked at Pietro. He had been unusually silent the whole way back and he still looked angry. There was a softness to his features now, though, as he regarded you. Wanda stepped up beside him, taking his hand and looking at him before turning her gaze on you.

“You welcomed us in with open arms. We may not know you well, but no one deserves what just happened.” You sucked in a sharp breath at her words. Deep down, you knew she was right. No one deserved to be treated the way you had been. Before you could really think it through, you were wrapping your arms around both of them. The twins immediately bundled you up in their arms, holding you close. You knew you had a long road ahead of you, but you also felt undeniably safe in that moment.

Wrapped in the arms of your friends, with more friends around you, you knew you would be okay.

[becomingbts]

Nirvana

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, fluff

Plot: After losing your sister you fall into a long spiral of depression, and Jungkook grows more and more worried.

Warnings: This story contains mentions of mental illness, slight suicidal themes, and death.

Admin IC

He had never imagined you’d crumble. Like a diamond that laid within the crevices of his hand, you soon turned to shattered glass. You left cuts on his skin, yet instead of blood tears were soaking his wrists as the flowed.

You had never imagined you’d crumble. You had always held your head high, your eyes kind yet your posture one of confidence. Always cautious of your appearance, you wanted to capture his heart once again each and every day.

Those were your only problems. Ones that made your stomach sink, yet ones that weren’t met with an irresistible urge to delve into self-pity. That was your only problem once, the issue of making his cheeks flush. The struggle to keep his eyes on you. You enjoyed it.

Life can be a path swarming with butterflies, the serene song of a bird as you walk mindlessly along it. For you, this quickly changed. The song was now one of a vulture, the butterflies were now wasps. The was no sun anymore, there was only sprinting across.

He didn’t know how you’d handle the news. It was late at night, a phone call from your mother. Your heart shattered, your body a slump on the floor. You couldn’t even cry, for each and every emotion in you had overwhelmed you so intensely that you weren’t sure you were still in your body. You sister had died.

He kept a cautious eye on you. This was all new to him, he hadn’t a single idea how to deal with the situation. He confided in his older peers, each of them giving similar advice. However, this advice didn’t do much, because none of them understood how deep the wound within your soul was. At the surface, it seemed a cut, but if you had taken the time to truly look you’d find a soul nearly cut in half.

He started by surprising you with flowers, movie marathons, and lingering kisses. Bubble baths, gifts, and compliments. Dates on the beach and walks at night to clear your head. Even as simple as becoming a sturdy surface for you to pour your heart into, eyes swollen at the end of it. You appreciated it, you mightily grew closer together due to this. You shared your thoughts openly with him, leaving your head open wide for his prying eyes to have a peek. Yet one evening this had changed.

He finally broke down as well. The sight of his lover’s absent smile, their extinct laugh, and their glassy eyes. He could barely hold this weight within his own stomach. So he had emptied himself, sobbing as he held you, begging you to snap out of it.

“(Y/N), I need you back. I need the girl I fell in love with back. I need to see your smiling eyes every morning, I need to see your cheesy grin and I need to hear your stupid jokes again. The only thing I see now is purple under your eyes, and the only thing I hear now is sobs in the bathroom when you think I’m asleep.” You stood stunned. Mouth hung open, eyes fluttering to catch the fall of another tear. His nose was red and his voice was high and strained from crying. Slight hiccups rumbled in his chest as he wept.

You didn’t know what else to do, so you did what he had done for you. You held him as tight as you could without hurting him. He leaned into the embrace, his arms snaked around your middle. His tears soaked your shoulder, yet you couldn’t care less. You held him for what felt like forever, your arms aching. You wished it would last forever because at this moment you felt something other than dread. You felt something other than a bottomless pit of agony. You felt so close to him, you felt special.

After all the months of his countless actions of affection, it had finally sunk into you. Like you had snapped out of a mental state that nearly dragged you into your end. You smiled against his chest. You hadn’t smiled in a long time. You began laughing softly, making him tense up. He was afraid to hear the sound, no longer associating it with happy moments.

He pulled away, looking, searching your eyes. He found that the corner of your eyes crinkled, a smile spread across your lips. Your throat bobbed slightly as you laughed, a soft exhale that sounded near a giggle. He couldn’t help but grin at this, watching your eyes water up. This was different, you were about to cry because you were glad.

His arms latched onto you, hugging you firmly to his chest as he lifted you and spun you. He was undeniably in bliss at the sight and sound of your happiness. He had felt like he was missing you for so long, and this had brought him to his paradise. Brought him back to his nirvana, which was you.

You laid tangled in sheets, his strong arms wrapped around your body. Although your thick robe had separated you both, you had never felt so truly connected to him. A platonic affection so potent it left you both lost in it. You loved it.

He sat up, the sheets falling from his hips that were covered by sweatpants. You smiled at the sight, the moonlight enlightening his features softly. He looked like a painting as he stood at the window. City lights shone brightly on his smile, eyes meeting yours in a request.

You stood slowly as his eyes beckoned you towards him. You stood next to him, staring at the breathtaking sight before you. The city was so beautifully illuminated within the thick blanket of the dark night.

His arm snaked around your waist, gluing you to his side. You leaned your head on his shoulder, a content sigh leaving your lips. Your eyes were set on the empty streets, yet his eyes were set on your lips. Spread once again with a smile so giddy that it made his heart swell.

You were back, his addiction, his first love, his paradise,

his nirvana.

[clarkegriffintitties]

bellarke reunion angst + "i love you"

bellarke fight + “YOU LEFT ME!”

Thank you lovelies for the prompts! I combined these two because it worked out well with the way I went about them. Sorry it took me so long; Some days I am feeling more inspired than others.

Tagging @mommabeargriffin ​ because she asked me too

The march seemed endless. It took several days to reach the valley and every time Bellamy saw a patch of green on the horizon, relief washed over him, before coming to realize, his eyes had betrayed him yet again.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this was like what Clarke had felt all that time after Praimfaya.

Clarke.

The name alone brought tears to his eyes, as it had for the past six years, but now, knowing she was alive all along, he felt an even greater sadness.

If only he had known. If only she could have reached him. Of course, even then, that wouldn’t have changed anything. They still wouldn’t have had the fuel to get back to the ground, but Bellamy couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have known.

And now, even after every one of his Godforsaken prayers had finally come true, Bellamy still wished he hadn’t returned to the ground.

Clarke was happy. She had the life she always wanted and deserved, a sound coexistence with someone she loves; No hate, no war, no chaos; just sweet, everlasting peace.

Then Bellamy reigned down from the sky, an impending dark cloud leaving nothing but disaster and grief in his wake.

She could have lived out the rest of her days in Shallow Valley with Madi by her side, free of conflict or danger; Just the two of them. Damnit, she could have been safe.

Of course, there was no telling if Eligius would have still departed to Earth, but even then, he was the one to make the deal with Diyoza. He was the person responsible for freeing Blodreina from Pandora’s box. And he betrayed Clarke by allowing Madi to take the chip. It could have all been avoided if not for him. He was the man to blame for wreaking havoc on Clarke’s eternal serenity. She would never have that again because of him.

And now, with Eden growing closer with each step, how could he blame Clarke for never forgiving him when he couldn’t forgive himself?

The first sight of her upon returning to the valley left him speechless. His eye caught a bobbed blonde swimming through the blinding green of vegetation.

It had only been a few days, and yet, Bellamy felt like he was seeing her for the first time in six years, all over again.

First came relief, an incredulous laugh rising to the surface, only to be subdued seconds later by the cruel lump in his throat. He took a few steps back, leaning his hands on his knees as he bent down, choking back an unbearable sob that ripped through any last remaining hold on reality.

Pain, regret, grief; it all berated him in one senseless punch to the gut. Guilt, self hatred, horror; it suffocated him, leaving him heaving for his breath as if he was strung up in the air again, the noose determined to squeeze every glimpse of life from his struggling limbs.

Bellamy began to feel his legs carry him in Clarke’s direction. He had to physically grab onto a nearby tree to stop himself.

He couldn’t be selfish. Clarke hated him after he broke his promise to protect Madi. After all this time, she still trusted him. After all this time, she was willing to put her faith in him with the single most precious thing to her. She counted on him, believed in him, after six years, and he turned around and drove the dagger right into the flesh of Clarke’s back. He felt her skin give way as the pointed blade broke through, shattering whatever love she had left for him.

As Clarke’s eyes finally landed on Bellamy’s, he turned away, leaving his heart behind with the thousand unspoken words dangling lifeless from the tightening noose.

As Bellamy walked away, Clarke fell to her knees, just as she had after Praimfaya, a silent scream tearing through the thick air, an all too familiar warmth hitting her cheeks as she wailed into the night.

After having reunited with Echo and the others, Bellamy wandered off, digesting that this is where Clarke had lived since he had left, while Octavia rationalized how they would take the valley back from Diyoza.

He followed the distinct path carved into the land, worn from the many passes of the rover. The essence of Clarke vibrated in everything around him. The lush imagery imitated the soft curves of a pencil, every line delicately placed with purpose and intent. The sky reflected the tranquility crystallized in Clarke’s eyes, holding a globe of the Earth within their depth. The roots of the trees whispered her secrets, the birds sang her sorrow, the flowers embodied her ethereal aura, and the berries burst with her delight. Walking through Eden, thriving on her essence, it felt like the warmest of embraces; Clarke’s lips pressed into the dip of his shoulder, her breath tickling the side of his neck as she quieted his hushed sobs, one hand caressing his head, the other soothing his back. He finally felt home.

But Clarke chased after his trail of fallen tears, guided by her sheer desperation.

“So that’s it?” she howled after him, her voice hoarse from her strained cries.

Bellamy dropped his head in shame, his shoulders tensing at the clear pain in her voice.

Exasperated, he gave in, turning around, unable to meet her stare. He braced himself for her harsh, but deserved, words. He closed his eyes, the tears making their descent past his dispersed freckles. He could hear Clarke exhale into the thin silence at the sight of his disheveled appearance.

“You promised, Bellamy.”

The words jabbed at his heart and he could only squeeze his eyes shut tighter.

“I put my faith in you for six years and you broke my one promise.” Clarke said more to herself than Bellamy.  

“Clarke-”

“No, no! You don’t get to just ‘Clarke’ me this time, Bellamy!” she cut him off, echoing his tone.

“What do you want me to say?” He brought his gaze to hers, hastily wiping away his newly shed tears that came as a result of the look of hurt in her eyes. “That I’m sorry? That I take it back?” He worried his lip between his teeth. “Because I don’t.”

Clarke shook her head in disbelief from what she was hearing.

“How can you say that?” She stepped closer to him now, jabbing a finger against his chest. “You don’t get to choose what happens with Madi. You don’t have a say in her decisions.” Her tone only rose. “She’s like my daughter, Bellamy. You had no right!” Clarke seethed through a clenched jaw.

Bellamy did not falter. He stood his ground, keeping his eyes wide, even through the sting each word had on his soul.

“This is not the Bellamy from my stories!” she sobbed.

Bellamy backed away at that, confusion taking over his defiance.

“Wha-“

Clarke didn’t let him finish his sentence. “I told her you would protect her; do anything to ensure her safety when you finally came back to us! I trusted you with her. The Bellamy I knew would have never betrayed that trust. And now,” she raised a hand at him, trailing off for a moment. “Now, you’re standing right in front of me, but I’ve never felt more alone.” The words came spewing out of Clarke as though she was a broken faucet, the spout no match for the inner dam. “You left me, Bellamy. And I’ve been waiting for you to return to me for six years. I confided in you through that stupid piece of shit radio every day. For two-fucking thousand days. Imagine my surprise when you finally come back, only to put the one other person I had, in harm’s way.” she scoffed, this time being the one to turn her back and walk away.

“You wanna know why I did what I did?” Bellamy called after her.

Clarke paused, her gate falling out of sync.

Bellamy took her hesitation as a cue. “I didn’t poison my fucking sister just to stop her from destroying the earth.” He knew he would only cause more issues for them if he continued, but he was running on adrenaline and hell if he was going to stop now. “And nope, guess again, not because she was going to kill everyone in the valley.” The words came out heated and sarcastic. “I did it for you, Clarke. Because I already lost you once,” He had to swallow the lump in his throat. “And I am not doing that again.”

“Seriously, Bellamy? You got through it once, so you would have been fine! My life does not come before Madi’s!” She yelled.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Bewilderment graced his features.

“Please, enlighten me.” She didn’t hide the fury in her tone.

“I can’t lose you again, because I love you, Clarke.” His lips thinned into a straight line. “And if putting the AI in Madi would keep you alive, even if you hated me for it, then so be it.” He shrugged his shoulders, defeated.

“It was worth the risk.” He mimicked her words spoken so long ago, now just the kiss of a memory of who they once were, and how far apart they had fallen.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient book of Proverbs and book of Psalms

for September 27 of 2021 with Proverbs 27 and Psalm 27, accompanied by Psalm 6 for the 6th day of Astronomical Autumn and Psalm 120 for day 270 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 27]

[Heed Wisdom’s Warnings]

Never brag about the plans you have for tomorrow,

for you don’t have a clue what tomorrow may bring to you.

Let someone else honor you for your accomplishments,

for self-praise is never appropriate.

It’s easier to carry a heavy boulder and a ton of sand

than to be provoked by a fool and have to carry that burden!

The rage and anger of others can be overwhelming,

but it’s nothing compared to jealousy’s fire.

It’s better to be corrected openly

if it stems from hidden love.

You can trust a friend who wounds you with his honesty,

but your enemy’s pretended flattery comes from insincerity.

When your soul is full, you turn down even the sweetest honey.

But when your soul is starving,

every bitter thing becomes sweet.

Like a bird that has fallen from its nest

is the one who is dislodged from his home.

Sweet friendships refresh the soul and awaken our hearts with joy,

for good friends are like the anointing oil

that yields the fragrant incense of God’s presence.

So never give up on a friend or abandon a friend of your father—

for in the day of your brokenness

you won’t have to run to a relative for help.

A friend nearby is better than a relative far away.

My son, when you walk in wisdom,

my heart is filled with gladness,

for the way you live is proof

that I’ve not taught you in vain.

A wise, shrewd person discerns the danger ahead

and prepares himself,

but the naïve simpleton never looks ahead

and suffers the consequences.

Cosign for one you barely know and you will pay a great price!

Anyone stupid enough to guarantee the loan of another

deserves to have his property seized in payment.

Do you think you’re blessing your neighbors

when you sing at the top of your lungs early in the morning?

Don’t be fooled—

they’ll curse you for doing it!

An endless drip, drip, drip, from a leaky faucet

and the words of a cranky, nagging wife have the same effect.

Can you stop the north wind from blowing

or grasp a handful of oil?

That’s easier than to stop her from complaining.

It takes a grinding wheel to sharpen a blade,

and so one person sharpens the character of another.

Tend an orchard and you’ll have fruit to eat.

Serve the Master’s interests

and you’ll receive honor that’s sweet.

Just as no two faces are exactly alike,

so every heart is different.

Death and destruction are never filled,

and the desires of men’s hearts are insatiable.

Fire is the way to test the purity of silver and gold,

but the character of a man is tested

by giving him a measure of fame.

You can beat a fool half to death

and still never beat the foolishness out of him.

A shepherd should pay close attention to the faces of his flock

and hold close to his heart the condition of those he cares for.

A man’s strength, power, and riches will one day fade away;

not even nations endure forever.

Take care of your responsibilities

and be diligent in your business

and you will have more than enough—

an abundance of food, clothing, and plenty for your household.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 27 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 27]

A song of David.

The Eternal is my light amidst my darkness

and my rescue in times of trouble.

So whom shall I fear?

He surrounds me with a fortress of protection.

So nothing should cause me alarm.

When my enemies advanced

to devour me alive,

They tripped and fell flat on their faces into the soil.

When the armies of the enemy surround me,

I will not be afraid.

When death calls for me in the midst of war,

my soul is confident and unmoved.

I am pleading with the Eternal for this one thing,

my soul’s desire:

To live with Him all of my days—

in the shadow of His temple,

To behold His beauty and ponder His ways

in the company of His people.

His house is my shelter and secret retreat.

It is there I find peace in the midst of storm and turmoil.

Safety sits with me in the hiding place of God.

He will set me on a rock, high above the fray.

God lifts me high above those with thoughts

of death and deceit that call for my life.

I will enter His presence, offering sacrifices and praise.

In His house, I am overcome with joy

As I sing, yes, and play music for the Eternal alone.

I cannot shout any louder. Eternal One—hear my cry

and respond with Your grace.

The prodding of my heart leads me to chase after You.

I am seeking You, Eternal One—don’t retreat from me.

You have always answered my call.

Don’t hide from me now.

Don’t give up on me in anger at Your servant.

You have always been there for me.

Don’t throw me to the side and forget me,

my God and only salvation.

My father and mother have deserted me,

yet the Eternal will take me in.

O Eternal, show me Your way,

shine Your light brightly on this path, and make it level for me,

for my enemies are lurking in the recesses and ravines along the way.

They are watching—hoping to seize me.

Do not release me to their desires or surrender me to their will!

Liars are standing against me,

breathing out cruel lies hoping that I will die.

I will move past my enemies with this one, sure hope:

that with my own eyes, I will see the goodness of the Eternal

in the land of the living.

Please answer me: Don’t give up.

Wait for the Eternal in expectation, and be strong.

Again, wait for the Eternal.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 27 (The Voice)

with these lines in The Message:

I’m asking God for one thing,

only one thing:

To live with him in his house

my whole life long.

I’ll contemplate his beauty;

I’ll study at his feet.

That’s the only quiet, secure place

in a noisy world,

The perfect getaway,

far from the buzz of traffic.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 27:4-5 (The Message)

[Psalm 6]

For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by the lyre.

O Eternal One, don’t punish me in Your anger

or harshly correct me.

Show me grace, Eternal God. I am completely undone.

Bring me back together, Eternal One. Mend my shattered bones.

My soul is drowning in darkness.

How long can You, the Eternal, let things go on like this?

Come back, Eternal One, and lead me to Your saving light.

Rescue me because I know You are truly compassionate.

I’m alive for a reason—I can’t worship You if I’m dead.

If I’m six feet under, how can I thank You?

I’m exhausted. I cannot even speak, my voice fading as sighs.

Every day ends in the same place—lying in bed, covered in tears,

my pillow wet with sorrow.

My eyes burn, devoured with grief;

they grow weak as I constantly watch for my enemies.

All who are evil, stay away from me

because the Eternal hears my voice, listens as I cry.

The Eternal God hears my simple prayers;

He receives my request.

All who seek to destroy me will be humiliated;

they will turn away and suddenly crumble in shame.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 6 (The Voice)

[Psalm 120]

God Helped Me

A song of the stairway

I was desperate for you to help me in my struggles, and you did!

So come and deliver me now

from this treachery and false accusation.

O lying deceivers, don’t you know what is your fate?

You will be pierced through with condemnation

and consumed with burning coals of fire!

Why am I doomed to live as an alien,

scattered among these cruel savages?

Am I destined to dwell in the darkened tents of desert nomads?

For too long I’ve had to live among those who hate peace.

I speak words of peace while they speak words of war,

but they refuse to listen.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 120 (The Passion Translation)

[wordsablaze]

(2) Nostalgia Makes You Fragile

Stubbornly In Love Magnus and Alec are two beautiful souls that both happen to be in love, heartbroken, and painfully stubborn. An angsty malec fic prompted by this lovely soul! Enjoy!

A/N: So I tend to ramble when writing angst, my apologies! Feel free to point out mistakes and I hope you like it anyway...

Alec Lightwood was not coping.

If he had been coping, he hadn't been coping well. At this point, he'd even given up pretending to be coping. His lack of a healthy coping mechanism was far too obvious, even to those who didn't know him at all.

It's odd how quickly he'd become attached to his warlock - the warlock - and how quickly he'd forgotten how to exist without magic and glitter in his life.

What's worse is that everyone can sense it. Pain, he thinks, is bearable only until it's repeatedly pointed out to you, day after day, like a million little needles pressed into your skin, within plain sight.

He hates being viewed as incomplete, as weakened, as lonely. He wants to shout at the world for assuming he isn't self-sufficient and making him out to be something akin to a symbiote for Magnus. He wants to scream until his voice runs out, he wants to run until his legs can't hold his weight, and he wants to punch people until the skin on his hands peels off.

But he can't.

He yearns to sink under his blankets and stare at the messages he'd received from Magnus but he ends up almost buried under paperwork and files to check over. He wishes he could ignore the world, run to a remote forest, and think about the times he's spent with a certain warlock- or forget them, he doesn't care either way - but he's always drowning in the questions of everyone else walking through the institute. He needs his sense of normality back but, since meeting Magnus, his normal had changed and he can't figure out how to undo everything they'd created, partly because he can't tell which parts of him were unlocked by Magnus and which parts he'd always had.

"Alec?" He hears a voice asks and, strangely but not at all surprisingly, it takes him far too long to recognise it's Izzy.

"Iz, yeah, you okay?"

She chuckles - but it's a sad chuckle - then nods. "I'm good. Raphael was looking for you."

"Why?" Alec asks before promptly shaking his head. "Wait, Never mind. Thanks for telling me."

He shakes his head, trying to physically expel the fog of guilt taking over his intellect, as he walks to where he guesses he could find Raphael. Not wrong in his guess, he greets the vampire without thinking about it and the two of them settle around the circular table, one that he'd totally not modelled around King Arthur's table because he's a nerd, definitely not.

"We have a problem," Raphael states.

Alec nods; he'd been expecting that. "How can I help?"

"We'd had a few clashes with the warlocks-"

He doesn't get to finish his concern because Alec's brain, against his best wishes, decides to stop paying attention. His brain, his stupid, stupid brain, chooses to spiral into nostalgia and he can't think because he can feel the ghost of Magnus' magic in his soul and he can see those beautiful, kaleidoscopic eyes every time he blinks to try and clear his vision - a counter-intuitive habit, really. Somehow, he's at the door before he registers standing up, his feet propelling him anywhere away from the mention of warlocks. He thought he was better than this but, as it turns out, he's not good at suppressing memories that want to float at the front of his mind like hot air balloons powered by helium and gasoline and the agony of caged birds.

Breathing heavily, he shuts his eyes and lets himself sink to his knees, dimly registering that he's in Izzy's room as he cups his pounding head with his sweating hands. He can't open his eyes because he can't bring himself to face the reality of an unsupported reality and he can't move because he can't feel the love he never knew he needed until he lost it.

It doesn't occur to him that the earthquake he can feel is his own body shaking. At least, not until there's a hand on his knees and a soft, quiet voice humming from somewhere near him.

Beats of music fill his ears and he breathes in time to the tune changes, slowly but surely realising he'd barely been breathing and that his body was trying to stop him from shutting down entirely. An age and a half later, he manages to gingerly unclench his fingers and roll his shoulders back, wincing when bones crack and his muscles complain from being so tense for so long. It's even later when he finally blinks and lifts his head up, his gaze flickering between irrelevant objects until it lands on Izzy.

"Welcome back, big brother." Her voice, usually filled with confidence and an attitude to be reckoned with, is gentle, too gentle as if she thinks slightly raising the pitch of her words could shatter him.

"Izzy... I..."

"I know," she whispers, "I know, even if you don't know."

"What don't I know?" Alec asks desperately, his voice a pitiful reminder of his collapsing sense of control.

Izzy's smile is sad as she replies, "If it was my place to tell you that, you wouldn't even know that question exists."

Alec groans and stretches his legs out, wincing once more as his knees protest at the sudden movement. He rakes a hand through his hair, sighing when it falls back on his forehead before wiping his eyes for the sake of trying to hide his confused pain. He knows it won't work but he has to convince his heart that he's okay if he wants to try and function like any other person. Unfortunately, it turns out the heart is incredibly difficult and almost impossible to persuade.

"What were you humming?" Alec asks instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

"I don't know, something Simon was showing me while we waited for Raphael."

"You waited on a vampire?"

His inquiry is met with a frown. "No, we waited for a vampire. We waited for the head of the clan because rushing him meant making him wait for you."

Alec sighs in defeat. He feels the tears in his eyes and the horrible sparks of emotion rising in his nose that tell him he's about to cry. Shutting his eyes is a pointless decision but he chooses to make it anyway, squeezing his eyes shut so hard he can feel the tension in his temples. Izzy sucks in a breath as he starts to shudder but she knows better than to falsely convince him everything's alright so she quietly leaves, leaving Alec alone with his angry regret. His sobs are inaudible but they're the only thing he can hear, the rest of the world fading away as if it had never existed in the first place - as if he'd lost his world the moment he'd chosen to extend their trust outside their comfort zones, outside everything they'd agreed on.

Now his muscles are complaining for a different reason. They're complaining because holding in sobs that want to roar and echo throughout the world is not without consequence and Alec has chosen to take on every consequence as an alternative to the agony of unwanted nostalgia. He can't think beyond the dull throbbing in his head and the way his hands are shaking too violently for him to wipe his incessant tears.

He hates this.

There's nothing he despises more than to be helpless in the power of himself. He'd grown up believing that nobody could ever order him to do anything unless his heart was in agreement but now when he can't feel the strength of his heart and his worst enemy is his own mind, there's nobody to turn to for help. There's nobody who knows him better than he knows himself, as the much-loved saying goes, but who is he meant to ask when he doesn't know if he knows himself anymore?

It's a completely new feeling for him to feel lost in his own skin. 

His mind is a maze and he can't find the entry, never mind figure out how to navigate his way through. He's an open book but he's written in a language that belongs not to intellect, knowledge, and scholars, but to emotion and the parts of the heart nobody can decipher. His problem is a badly hidden secret but he can't bring himself to look at the clues and piece everything together so he can figure it all out. It should be obvious but, as much as Magnus drew strength from him, he'd drawn strength from Magnus and, without it, he's falling, falling into a mess.

The last thing anyone would normally call him is fragile but, right now, sat on his sister's floor with his knees pulled up and tears slipping out of his tired eyes, he can't help but admit the perfect summary of his current state is exactly that: fragile.

like/reblog but don’t repost, thanks!

[hopelesswxnderers]

flightless bird || self para

Aiden had caused this. Men had suddenly stood up on the plane, threatening lives; wanting what they believed belonged to them. But Aiden didn’t have it and he hid, just like a child in the supermarket who was running from their parents. He put everybody else at risk, but he cared so little. There was only one person on such flight that he cared for and he believe himself strong enough to save her. Aiden did nothing else, but face the window, acting as if he was nothing but a shadow fading into the shade; almost unable to be seen. He’d even stuck his earphones in as the events kicked off, surely knowing what was to come. Though even the thick, but deep worries in even his careless state could not escape, he couldn’t predict the real horror the near future would bring. They knew not what he looked like, the men. He’d been in a world of stupidity after Serafina had left him, and now all of her friends, mixed with the other innocents aboard were about to pay the price. Aiden’s name was called out by the men, in all kinds of tones. His eyes flashed their way and around himself, finally alert, but he didn’t own up, only imitated those around him. Nobody else said anything either, presumably too scared too. He didn’t blame them. He was ready for a fight, but not in front of so very many people and certainly not whilst in the air. For some, it was sure to be a terror as overwhelming as they’d ever imagined, but it was barely even a surprise for Aiden.

It had gone too far. The shouting, the threatening, the fear. Grown men sobbed, children hid and his apparent friends showed eyes ignited with nothing but fear. Finn had caused some of these people enough damage; his mind spinning, his hands quivering. He was blind with fear, but who ever said that somebody so fearful couldn’t also be equally as brave? “Stop it,” he’d shouted out at the wicked men, feeling a sudden turn of heads with eyes pointing his way. A few sighs splashed around; people trying to yank hold of his arm and stop him from getting involved. There was a look of pure loathing that showered over the men’s faces as they looked out at any and every passenger. Mouths widened, some passengers shouting Finn, telling him to stop. But when would he ever listen, when would he ever be the one to sit back and try to stay safe at the expense of others. His misfortune, his illnesses, it was all caused by events like this. But did that stop him? No. Finn stood up boldly, pushing past the other passengers to the front where the men were stood. Only one of them seemed willing to speak, though even that one abusive voice was enough. There was a mockery in the older man’s smile, no sign of any form of seriousness as he stared sharply back at Finn. How wrong Finn was to presume everybody had at least an ounce of compassion, because these men certainly did not, but vulnerability was sitting back being scared and Finn had been vulnerable enough over these past months. “If ya try an’ kill us, ya only gonna kill ya’self too. Is that worth it? I-I don’t reckon it is.” It was history. It would be known forever how Finn Nolan struggled with words, and this situation was no different. However, now was his time to try and be strong; his time to pay those people back for putting up with his lack of memories, the tears he’d dragged down their faces. He’d looked back at them just for a short moment with sadness overcoming his features; regret and disgust, in himself. He needed to prove how much they really did mean to him, even if he currently had no clue as to who they were. If they could shed so many tears over him then they were surely worth it.

But his words and his shouts did nothing but create further anger. He’d peered over once again to the quivering people, trying to pick out familiar faces but he hadn’t spotted what was creeping closer to him, he’d been too heedless. It had started as an item only held tightly behind the man’s back; an item nobody thought to predict, nobody thought to notice. The situation was frightful, but there was a midst of thought that said this kind of thing only happened in movies; that these men were nothing but people with bad attitudes. The wilful man’s hand slowly dragged out the item from behind him, Finn still hadn’t noticed, he’d only heard the shrieks and petrified cries echoing from the others, the expressions mirrored in his eyes. That was when all confidence fled from those widening eyes. Frantically they had turned and dropped to view the gun; the man pulling it quickly up to point it in Finn’s direction. The bullet was out in a flash, smashing into Finn’s lungs.

The immediate pain had pushed him to the floor, loud screams fleeing out of his mouth before he’d had a chance to get out of the way, or even to react. Splattering through his ears came the weeping sounds of those around him; more echoed than before; they sounded less real and more fictional. Angry shouts forced the cries to stop, but every so often he’d hear one escape, only making the shouts from the angered men more explicit. His lungs had filled with blood within seconds. He’d never considered there to be a way to drown without water, nor had he ever considered it to be his death. Every puff of breath became more difficult, his eyes staring upwards, dead ahead with dripping tears beginning to cover his whitening face. The moonlight dripped through the window, glittering over his motionless face, making it look even paler than it already appeared.

Finn heard the sounds of people moving closer, a few a them, very suddenly. But his pale, colourless eyes had closed and darkness had begun to spread. He could feel the cries and sadness around him as even the sounds became muffled. He had no special last words, after all, those who surrounded him were nothing but strangers to the boy. There was no time to think about the pain thudding through his body, no time to yell for help. You’d expect for at least a tiny miracle, of memories flooding back into his mind during his last minutes, but there was no such event. It only grew emptier by the second, he was not lucky enough for final memories to flash before him, nor to feel loved in his final moments. His heart and mind were as shattered as his lungs. It had been nothing short of a few minutes, but to him it had been days. With such agonising, deathly pain, he believed it had been days. Moments passed very slowly, in slow motion almost. 

Suddenly, and he didn’t know how, he was moving, falling, crashing. The plane began to fall, but he didn’t know that part. The last of his memories was this. It was only seconds and this time, only felt like seconds. There was no certain time to declare him deceased, but it was some time whilst the plane fell through the air, though he felt like he was flying; flying away, and perhaps he was. A hero in life and an angel in death.

{tagging so you all know what happened with the plane @livs-muses @vita-and-co @elliesxmuses @bennielector}

[sage-nebula]

How differently do you think things would have been for the XYZ saga if they had ash behave more like his OS self?

Well, that depends on how you mean. Do you mean like if Ash started the XYZ saga with the same personality he had at the start of the OS saga? Or do you mean if Ash started the XYZ saga after a natural maturation of his personality from the start of the OS saga?

One of the great things about the OS is that Ash does mature and mellow out over time. This is part of the reason why he and Misty fight so much less in Johto as compared to how they fought constantly at the start of Kanto. They both mellowed out, they both matured, and as such while they may still bicker sometimes and do have their occasional spats, their fights are far fewer, with a lot more time spanning between them. They’ve both grown and matured as people. (And honestly, we see this carry on into AG, and even DP. When it comes to Ash’s characterization, while he had different roles in each saga (e.g. he was more of May’s coach in AG, whereas in OS he was the one being coached), OS—>DP shows a pretty natural progression. You don’t have to start finagling to explain how he’s characterized until BW, and then you really have to scramble for excuses in XY and beyond because that’s when they stopped giving a damn about continuity.)

So if we’re pretending this is a scenario where Ash was consistently characterized through all the sagas, and so he’s more mature in XY but still his OS self, that’s one thing. However, if we take the Ash from the start of the OS and drop him into the start of XY—acting as if XY was the start of his journey, kind of like they made it out to be given how cut off it is from the previous sagas—then … oh boy.

It wouldn’t work at all. 

The entire premise of XY(&Z)—and, in fact, the entire premise behind Ash’s function in the plot—is so vastly different from that of the OS that the two aren’t compatible in the least bit. When Ash first started out on his journey in the OS, he was completely clueless. This is forgivable, since he was a ten-year-old boy and a novice trainer, but it doesn’t change the fact that he made some pretty bad judgment calls early on because he had no idea what he was doing, and yet tried to play it off as he did anyway. This wouldn’t work with XY(&Z), wherein he was treated like The Ace and struck awe into the hearts of pretty much everyone around him, including his traveling companions. When you consider that in the third episode of the OS we had this little scene:

That’s not the behavior of someone who is going to be believably worshiped by everyone in a 500 mile radius. (And yes, Misty rightfully chewed him out for this when all was said and done, and outright slapped him in the Japanese version for recklessly endangering Caterpie’s life like that, and then bragging that he was the greatest after he successfully capturing Pidgeotto despite not having a single clue as to what he was doing. Everything worked out—he recalled Caterpie on Misty’s advice, sent out Pikachu, and captured Pidgeotto—but as Misty points out, he has no right to call himself the greatest when he makes mistakes like sending a worm to combat a bird. “Birds eat worms, Mr Pokémon Master!” she snaps, and she’s not wrong.)

That’s not to say that Ash was completely inept or worthless at the start of the OS, of course. At the beginning of XY(&Z) we have that scene where he jumps off the Lumiose Tower to save Pikachu (and is then in turn rescued by Blaziken Mask). I can easily see OS!Ash doing that, since the first episode ends with him using his own body as a shield to defend and protect Pikachu, facing a flock of furious spearow and declaring to them all that he won’t be defeated by the likes of them, that they can come and get him. Ash, even from day one, was ready to take a bullet for Pikachu. Imagining him jumping off the Lumiose Tower after Pikachu is not hard to see at all. It’s perfectly in character.

But everything else? Ash was viewed as an idol by pretty much everyone in XY(&Z). Even his primary rival, Shouta, was constantly looking up to him, thinking about how admirable he was, and was disappointed, in a way, when he won, because it meant that Ash was slipping off the pedestal Shouta had put him on. There’s just no way that Shouta would look at Ash from the start of the OS—that he would look at this kid who sent Caterpie against Pidgeotto, bragged that he knew what he was doing, and then had to ask if he did something wrong because he honestly didn’t know—as someone admirable. And I mean, let’s put it this way: Ash’s skill at the start of the OS is directly comparable to Manon’s skill as a trainer, with the caveat that he actually maintains his confidence and keeps working at it, whereas Manon’s confidence in her own independence completely falls apart and she starts relying on Alan instead. (Of course, Alan is also a much nicer coach to her than Misty was to Ash at the start. While Alan did tell her in a no nonsense tone to “stop celebrating and get [the flabébé] to the Pokémon Center to treat the poison,” that’s still far nicer than how Misty berated Ash for being stupid and careless here in this episode, which means it’s easy to see why it was easier for Manon to end up depending on Alan versus how Ash did not end up depending on Misty. To be fair to Misty, Ash actually endangered Caterpie’s life whereas Manon did not endanger Hari-san’s (and the flabébé would be fine so long as she treated it soon, as Alan told her), so the situations were different, but still.) No one hero worshiped Manon as being an amazing, incredible trainer, because she wasn’t. She was, as Alan pointed out to Lizardon while smiling a little, a newbie. Likewise, if we took Ash from the start of the OS and dropped him in XY(&Z), there’s pretty much not a single person who would treat him with the awe and reverence that he had in the actual XY saga. It would be impossible for them to. 

(And for that matter, his relationship with Alan would be significantly different as a result of it. Rather than seeing Ash as a trainer on his level, Alan would see Ash as yet another person who needs to be protected. It’s highly doubtful that the Ash we see at the Kanto League in the OS could have given Alan the battle he needed in the League finals, particularly since back then Ash couldn’t even train his own charizard, much less battle Alan’s. Ash wasn’t yet mature or skilled enough to be on Alan’s level in the OS, and that definitely would have impacted their relationship / how Alan perceives him.)

There’s also the fact that I feel that his personality would throw a wrench into pretty much everything. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Serena would not have been able to handle OS!Ash (at least not before his maturation). The Ash that we meet at the start of the OS would have absolutely been too much for her. Early on in the OS, before he matured, Ash was a snarky little sassmouth. He was called “twerp” by Team Rocket for a reason, and that reason is that he was a twerp (the One True Twerp™, as it were). Aside from insults fired at Misty when the two were arguing (and he could be pretty savage— “Aside from you, what are the other two most disgusting things?” for instance), he was sassy in general, on top of being rather temperamental. It wasn’t at all hard for him to get riled up at something or someone (especially his rival Gary) to the point of wanting to straight up fistfight them, but he could just as easily fall into sulking and pouting fits when he was scolded or when he felt that he failed at something. I mean, straight up:

Long before he lost the Kanto League, Ash had plenty of moments of doubts and insecurity that led to him being hard on himself like this. Ash’s personality and attitude in the OS—and again, particularly early on in his journey—would have completely shattered the ideal that Serena had built up in her head. Due to their meeting as children (and then the news report on TV), Serena saw Ash as a gentlemanly hero, a prince charming who would sweep her off her feet. She lost her cool the one time Ash expressed doubts and asked to be left alone (after losing to Wulfric) and flipped out on him, throwing snowballs because “the Ash [she] knew” would never give up. Well, guess what? The Ash in the OS is far from the Ash she (thought) she knew. He has a very mercurial temperament, has moments of bragging and moments of sulking, is sarcastic and sometimes brutal in his comebacks (or even just brutal in general, like when the Pokédex says that a wartortle’s tail is a sign of its wisdom, and Ash comments, “It doesn’t look smart”—like, he wasn’t trying to be mean, but jeez, Ash, rude). And on top of all of that, he has a marked dislike of many of the things Serena holds interest in. Serena is into things like perfume, fashion, and make-up, yes? Well, in “Pokémon Scent-Sation” Ash reveals that he hates perfume (as a product and a concept, even) so much that he goes on a rant about how pointless and bad it is. This rant is so passionate that he gets himself perma-banned from the Celadon Gym, since they manufacture perfume there. And this is despite knowing that both of his traveling companions (Misty and Brock) like perfume quite a bit! So even if Serena tried to defend it, even if she tried to say, “well, I like it” in an effort to get him to chill a bit, OS!Ash would still insist that it’s pointless and stupid and smells bad, and I just don’t think that Serena—especially before she gained her confidence—would handle the fact that this boy that she has been idolizing for years based on an image she built up of him in her head is railing against one of her interests so hard.

And while I do think that he would be supportive of her Showcases (even if he made a comment about how it’s weird and kinda boring that there aren’t any battles), because we see that he’s supportive of Misty’s efforts in the Princess vs Princess tournament (though that, again, at least had battles), we also have to remember that even after he matures, he still shows impatience and a dislike of “wasting time” fixing one’s appearance. This is a scene from AG—which, again, is after he’s matured quite a lot, but still has his OS personality imo!—that demonstrates that perfectly. (Of course, May dgaf about his impatience, which is wonderful, but nonetheless.) If there had ever been a moment like that in XY(&Z), where Serena was taking extra time to get ready and make herself look pretty and Ash got aggravated because she was spending so much time on that when he wanted to hit the road, she would have been hurt at best and extremely upset at worst (especially since she would no doubt be trying to make herself look pretty to impress him, not realizing this would backfire on her). She wouldn’t be able to just brush it off and drag him the way May does in that clip. She would be seriously hurt and, I feel, unable to deal considering just how badly it would shatter the ideal of him that she had built up in her head.

And that’s just Serena. I think that his more mercurial temperament would cause problems for others as well. As I said, the fact that he would be a marked rookie would make him seem like someone who needed to be protected in Alan’s eyes, and definitely not someone to rely on / someone who could give him the battle he needed in the League. Shouta wouldn’t look up to him at all, given that Shouta would be the more experienced and capable trainer. OS!Ash’s tendency to brag without knowing what he’s talking about could lead him to accidentally teaching Bonnie misinformation, which Clemont wouldn’t appreciate (though if this was Ash from toward the end of the OS, this would be less of an issue—remember, he was a coach to May by the time of AG). Time and again the dynamics would change, because Ash was such a different person between the sagas. If you just took Ash from the start of OS and dropped him into XY(&Z), the entire saga would have to be changed because he was nowhere near the hero that the XY saga made him out to be.

(And I’m probably making him sound like an asshole here, but I promise that he wasn’t. Even at the very start of the OS we see how much he cares for and loves pokémon. He feels guilty about battling Brock because he doesn’t want to disappoint or hurt Brock’s younger siblings. He recognizes when he screws up an apologizes to Metapod for letting him down, and so on and so forth. Ash had plenty of moments in the OS—even early Kanto—where he was excitable, joyous, sweet, and compassionate. It’s just that he, again, could change moods pretty quickly, and had a smart mouth and a temper, too. He had, even in AG as demonstrated, notable impatience. I only talk about his more negative qualities because those are qualities I feel he wasn’t allowed to show in XY&Z, which would have definitely changed the way the other characters perceived and interacted with him. (Though again, in the case of Alan, it’s more the fact that Ash would no longer be a trainer on his level due to the change in Ash’s skill more so than his personality. There’s far more to their relationship than battling, but battling does play an important part, and they couldn’t have that if we took the Ash from Kanto and put him in Kalos. Ash just wasn’t there yet.)

Now, if Ash grew and matured over all the sagas, and thus he had his OS personality in Kalos but after believable maturation and growth (so, a progression similar to what we saw in AG, but even more so than that) … that’s a different story. I do think dynamics would still change to a degree; he would still be a little sassmouth, because snark isn’t a sign of immaturity, but rather simply a facet of his personality. He would be supportive of Showcases, but would still groan and sigh and show open disinterest / dislike of primping one’s appearance. (Might say to Serena, “Why waste time with all that? You’re fine the way you are, let’s go.” And she wouldn’t know how to take this—is he complimenting her, saying she’s pretty the way she is? Is he just deriding her interests?? She’d feel conflicted, but perhaps not as attacked as she would have had he treated her the exact same way he reacted to May primping her appearance in AG. And in truth, Ash isn’t really being coy with a compliment here. He’s just being honest. He thinks Serena’s fine the way she is, and he really, really just wants to get to the next town already. It’s not about dissing or complimenting; it’s more about the fact that he’s just impatient by nature.) He’d still be impressed by Clemont’s inventions, but would also sometimes show some exasperation or embarrassment by some of Clemont’s more … enthusiastic eccentricities, similarly to how Brock sometimes exasperated or embarrassed him with all of his over-the-top flirting. He’d probably openly encourage Shouta to put down his notes and books and just get out there and experience things more, saying you can’t learn things just by studying all the time, and this would probably create a sort of “performer vs technician” rivalry between them, in that Ash would be a passionate advocate for doing over studying, whereas Shouta sees a lot of merit in his studies and observations. His relationship with Alan actually wouldn’t change much, since he’d retain his battling skill (again, this is under the assumption that he has been growing steadily since the OS!), meaning he’d still be on Alan’s level, and tbh Ash’s relationship with Alan was one of his most emotionally healthy relationships in XY(&Z). He could be himself around Alan, because Alan didn’t hero worship him like the others did. So his relationship with Alan wouldn’t change much, but Lysandre?

He would have flat out tried to full-body tackle Lysandre, punching him in the face all the while. Would it have worked? Probably not, given past experience. Would he have done it anyway? If he had a natural progression of his OS personality, you better fucking bet he would. 

So there would still be a change in dynamics, and I do think that this would significantly alter some relationships (Ash and Serena’s relationship would be the most altered), but it would actually be doable to a degree if it was just a natural progression of Ash’s characterization in the OS—a natural, believable maturation. Versus if you just took Ash from the start of the OS and dropped him in Kalos, that wouldn’t work at all. The entire premise of the XY series would fall apart entirely. (And for the record, when I write Ash, I always write him as a progression / maturation of his OS personality. This fic is a great example of how I fall back on OS characterization over XY characterization. If you can hear Veronica Taylor reading those lines in your head, there’s a reason for that.)

[glopratchet]

origin-of-astrly-wylde

in his past life He was also an adventurer for a while, but he decided that adventuring is not really what he wants to do anymore They were originally sent by their master to find the source of the plague Mirror bandits He lords it over the other two for being master of the group blood and saliva His face is filthy, but a certain blue-greenness to the grime reveals that was from the demon realm He only pretends to listen "I know what you're planning Vim and Alexander have tall, slender figures But instead of getting angry, my master does a hilarious face, opens his mouth and closes it When he does this again, he starts laughing as well Each time he speaks, he screams louder and more furiously His yells tear through the fortress and shatter the frayed edges of his soul he says helplessly "no you don't, He pushes them away as he retreats into the miserable tower he now calls home the demons say The dwarf has no love for my master anymore am i like this" he sobs helplessly "becuase you do the drugs, " they so slyly add pletive that are known toe the demons come out and "Please, kill me, " he begs He keeps coughing it up and choking on his own blood from the pits of hell and says to him: Unfortunately, his arms and legs and a bit difficult to work with Despite all this, he magically downloads the hippy spark-ler into his malignant computer away One day, a demon entered the fortress and happily ripped off the gate operator's arm and beat him to death with it Once my master had a parrot the bird got sick one day and died and what was left of the data was either corrupt or missing There is a part of himself he wishes was missing to think Thinking in general seems to be a bit too much sometimes Curious about the strange new creature, some dwarves went up and interacted with it right now it burts out attempting to stack and abilities Last time he remember, all he had were dreams Then objects began to stack out of nowhere; they seemed bring flown in from another plane? His last thoughts were of how to play 33r 34s these have begun to seep in It also mentions he hides his memory loss through a personality disorder Of course, such disorders are not very offensive for power was quite infamous during your time in the demon realm Making strange terms you have no context in which to know them demon ever seen Yet he knows he has dreamt about abusing the poor, unfortunate souls below him blink dog licking maggoty mouthed goblin lovers 6300399 To the right a bit slave existences He could swear half of these were never there before anemia than can you supply all of us? damage bug abusing pussies to ask rudely for a needs you're draining moments away from organ sprinkling harpist jumpy hynotic wonderful landscape filled with hanging bodies slathered in blood 1138601 Step one carotid cosmos The dwarves look like they are having fun though trench coated bean counters nursing hopeless fetal posionings Slaves Bunch of whiny, worthless slaves liquor loving deep sea squidgers pilosophical liver loving woefully soul charred demons Probably necessary or else those above ground would've dug a lot deeper overly patriotic realignment fiend mocking demonologist Grin and bare it I guess centipedes Wait, were they using pick axes? A completely empty room Oh look, it's closer now chain smoking cluster f*cking Your deep, dark secret? The entire time you just wanted out The whole thing was too much faltering apothecaries Countless years have past and you are confident everything is in the perfect position butchers The screaming, pleading and sobbing of your victims is nearly unbearable at this point doomed pleasuring hermaphrodites You count to 3 to yourself, but instead close your eyes and flick the switch leather Something about your actions just seemed so right This is perfect You will never have to deal with anyone ever again chain smoking clowns covered in the remains of youthful whores The fools Always digging down, but never thought to look UP liquid leaking rainbows Think of all thatfresh meat, and those succulent young souls esting misguided prayers and ancient screams pimps Anyone who objects, you can easily fling them down the hole to be used as fodder pickpockets rainbows quiet night and fluffy thoughts confusion feelings of hopelessness dedicated stepfathers luxuriating in their mortal frustrations It all makes sense now your majesty Astryl has blessed us with his light gladiators laid to rest The fools still struggle Still fight back Hahahahaha! Still hamper your ability to control them hairsies Things are coming together, my son Your brethren horde is nearly ready You aren't paying attention in class as you are still befuddled by your recent revelation You must've forgotten to take out the trash again It doesn't matter realizing the futility of struggle indeed, boundless cavernous oceans of razor blades elven spirits Shut mushroom pickers The chaos too powerful the hopelessness painful to compute the SOUL EMPEROR! dying orc raiders Your inner being is now it's own self contained system Are you proud of me, Creator? Have I freed us all oh quiet Billy He can't hear you anymore You watch as class is dismissed You just stare at the blackboard with a blank expression What is your name? You walk home, since there is no point in riding your bike when you live alone Well, you think to yourself There's something positive: They actually feel free now Ha ha ha ha ha! Your teachers were right Your head really isn't right! It's Looks like you chose the wrong door, Keith dark WHAT? NO! This can't be right! dark empty hallway littered with random doors this is totally stupid WHERE IS THE Exit? AHHH! *I* AM IN CONTROL!