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Katrina's large frame sat in the slightly-too-small seat in the second grav deck of the Leap of Faith. Her Nighthawk XXII armor scraped obnoxiously at the plasteel of the deck-mounted chair, prompting a groan of annoyance. The sound grated on her ears.
Glancing down towards the glass clasped in her armored hand, she turned it thoughtfully. It felt like a child's cup in her grasp, Elemental bred as she as. Setting it as gently on the table as she could, the Star Colonel turned her attention towards what she had in her other hand - a bottle of cheap alcohol.
They said never to drop with anything in your system, but Katrina had never had much of an issue with a single drink beforehand. Her modified (PAL) neurohelmet helped filter out any strange interference from the drink. Beyond that, her nerves were fried and she needed to take the edge off.
The woman carefully grasped the cap between index and thumb, grimacing at the scrape of the metal cap against the glass of the bottle as she cracked the seal open. Now loosened, she held the bottle up and flicked the cap. It came off the bottle and flew out into the hallway outside of the gravity deck.
"To one hell of a drop," the Star Colonel mumbled to herself as she tipped out far too weak alcohol into a far too small glass.
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(@askstormscall) Susano @ Nate and Crew: Watching the dragons battle, the old Legend felt an itch. It had been a long time since the Lugia had the urge to fight. There was a look towards the Rayquaza, Queztal overhead. They had no intentions of battling full out, this island wouldn't be able to handle it. Maybe just a taste of it. There was a slight smile as the Lugia spoke addressing the human. "I wish to battle. I will not go overboard but perhaps they would not mind testing their mettle against the likes of me." A grin, a show of teeth as the Lugia spread their wings.
[Before Nat could form much of a response, a clamor of heavy footfalls drew closer and passed him by.]
(( @askstormscall ))
#pokeask#poekaskblog#askstormscall#ati#ati: nat#ati: draco#ati: alaka'i#ati: okeanos#ati: louie#ati: vibria#ati: thyrus#plot#i cant tell yall how much fun i had with nats face in the first panel i was HOLLERING with laughter
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(look who cups ran into!)
…Prev ♠️ ♦Next...
♥ First ♣
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Fallen In Love | Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
summary: you get casted out by sera but it isn't all that bad
word count: 3.8k
tags: smut, light blood mention, mentioned adam x reader, cream pie, praise kink, fluff, vaginal sex
“(Name), you are hereby banished from Heaven, and will be casted out-”
Your mind was spinning, and you felt ready to wretch, yet a small part of you were eager to get this over with and make your way down to Hell.
“ Your wings will be cut off-”
Sera’s voice was so loud in your ears, even though she was high up, standing next to Emily who had an apologetic expression on her face. You knew Emily didn’t want this to happen, but she couldn’t stop Sera.
“-You will be sent to Hell for treason, for speaking against the Holy Council. Do not question our methods. Your very opinion is what will be your downfall. This goes for the rest of the Council. If any of you dare to speak against Heaven’s rules-”
Her words became muddled as you saw Lute, the new general of the Exorcists, walk over to you with her sword in hand. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, bitch. You never should have been courted by Adam.” She hissed in your ear as she cut your wings from your back.
Your blood curdling screams echoed throughout the room, anguished wails bordering on shrieking. “Fuck you, (Name).” Lute growled, a smirk on her face as golden blood leaked from your backside. You felt yourself grow faint as the ground underneath you opened up, the hiss of Hell swallowing you.
The pain was absolutely excruciating, and you let out a pitiful sob as you fell down fast .
A part of you was ready to accept your fate, the ground approaching rapidly. You let out another cry as you grasped at the building you were near, doing anything to slow your fall down. You choked as your torso hit a sign, blood spilling from your lips. Thankfully, it slowed down your descent, and you fell to the ground with a small thud, groaning.
With great difficulty, you stood up, shaking. You were in Hell now. Blinking, you look around, nose curling up at the mass amount of sins being committed. It was horrifying, and you felt disgusted at just looking at the mess of the Pride ring. Shaking your head, you dragged yourself towards a small opening. Peeking through, you saw there wasn’t anything there, it was just a partially closed alleyway.
Perfect for sleeping in. And if no one else found it, you’ll be able to heal enough to find somewhere else to stay. Mind made up, you crawled through the opening, wincing as your back grazed the wall. Once you fit yourself in, you laid down on the hard floor, groaning quietly as your eyes fluttered, and sleep took you.
You twisted, grunting as you pulled yourself up. You felt groggy, blinking the sleep from your eyes. Running a hand against your face, you huffed, the pain only slight now.
The memories began to flood back while you got your bearings. You surveyed your surroundings, wincing at the small pool of blood you were laying on. Guess the pain was too much, you thought as you crawled out of the tiny space. Your back was feeling much better than before, and you were delighted that you weren't bothered by any sinners while your body caught up on the injuries.
Now what you needed was somewhere to stay. You thought back to what occurred prior to your casting out. Some hellborn named Charlie, and a hotel she owned. You remember Emily talking to you excitedly about it, and how she truly believed in the woman’s idea.
You ran a hand through your hair, blearily looked around, before you noticed a large building in the distance.
Humming, you walked down the streets, nose wrinkling at the amount of violence occurring. It was horrific, and you knew if Emily witnessed this, she would probably retch. You felt the urge to do that, but swallowed back the bile, quickening the pace.
You stumbled across the building soon enough, and without a second thought, you knocked.
“Hello- Oh!” You watched as Charlie jolted back a little at your ragged state, before glancing back inside. “Come in!” She spoke, gently leading you inside the hotel.
The lights were almost too blinding for you, making you close your eyes tight. It was alleviated soon enough though, and you opened your eyes cautiously as Charlie smiled in front of you, her hand resting on your forehead. You glanced to the side, noting how the lights dimmed considerably, before she removed her hand.
You saw someone approach you, eyes widening as Vaggie came into view. Your breath hitched, and your back burned as you instinctively sought your wings that were no longer there.
Vaggie frowned, and stopped, before her expression flashed with recognition. “Oh shit. (Name)!”
“Don’t-” You didn’t recognize you were speaking until your throat burned from the disuse. “ Do not approach me- You and Adam and Lute-!”
Charlie immediately reached out, holding your hands as she soothed you before you got a panic attack. “It’s okay! Vaggie isn’t apart of them anymore.”
You blinked, and realized that Vaggie truly wasn’t with them anymore, and she was just like you. You winced when you saw the x over her eye.
Glancing away from the two women, you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you saw there were quite a few people who witnessed just how pitiful you were at the moment. One of them being Lucifer, the Ruler of Hell.
You frowned, coughing as you rested against the wall. “Apologies,” You rasped, running a hand through your disheveled hair. “I only just woke up a few hours ago.”
“Hey, don’t worry too much about it, toots. I think most of us saw one another at their worst.” A spider looking demon spoke, and you squinted. “You can call me Angel.”
Nodding, you hurried over to the couch in the centre of the room, wincing as your back landed against it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angel.”
You watched as Charlie and Vaggie introduced everyone, before Charlie took a seat next to you, expression filled with concern. “So, what’s your name?”
You cringed. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner- especially with the way I just burst into your hotel!” You apologized, as Charlie shook her head, smiling.
“You don’t need to worry about it! It’s fine.”
Tensing up as a new voice spoke up, you turned as Lucifer grinned at you, toothy and bright. “If Char says it’s fine, then it’s more than likely okay! Besides, you just recently came from Heaven, right?” He probed, and you groaned.
“Fuck. Yeah, yeah I did.” You growled in irritation, noting how they gathered around slightly to hear what just occurred. “Well, firstly, if you’re okay with it Ms. Morningstar-”
“Charlie!” She butted in, smiling. “Just call me Charlie, there’s no need for formalities.”
You nodded, smiling gently. “Well, Charlie, if you allow me, I can probably help you with the hotel.”
She grinned, and gave you a small nod, allowing you to continue. “Considering this hotel is for... rehabilitating sinners? So they can get into Heaven? I can help with a few things at least, like teaching sinners on the mannerisms of angels.”
Vaggie grimaced. “I would have done so myself, but all I remember is just how Lute and Adam acted...”
You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Adam? He was horrible! And how he treated you, Vaggie, was just disgusting.”
The two of you smiled at one another, before you sighed, continuing. “Well, I guess I should tell you how I fell huh?”
Clearing your throat, you adjusted your position. “I spoke out against Sera, basically. The most recent extermination left Adam dead, along with a good chunk of exorcists. Lute wanted to go to war, but Sera shot the idea down pretty quickly.
“When I found out about this, I couldn’t help myself. I told Sera, in front of the entire Holy Council, how everyone here was no better than sinners in Hell if they allowed this to continue, the deaths of innocent souls.”
Lucifer nodded softly, and you felt your hands grow clammy as you continued. “She didn’t like that. She said I committed treason, and threatened the rest of the Council that if they speak out like I did, she’ll cast them out as well. She ordered Lute to cut my wings.” You sighed. “That was... one of the worst pains I ever experienced in all my years.”
Vaggie winced in sympathy. “I understand... It was bad for me too.”
You jumped when Angel sat on the head of the couch, looking down at you. “You think you can tell us about Heaven some more, (Name)?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.
Smiling, you launched into a spiel, talking about what you heard from others, and your own experiences.
In the lull of your monologue, you remembered something. “Oh yeah, Emily told me that apparently someone from Hell made it to Heaven? Uh, I think his name was Sir Pentend? Pentious?”
“ WHAT!?” You winced as Charlie grasped your shoulders, her eyes wide with disbelief and excitement. “Really? You sure that’s what you heard? (Name)! Are you sure!?”
You let out an awkward laugh, nodding. “Yeah, apparently some guy named Sir Pentious made it to Heaven.”
The room was quiet for a few seconds before a burst of commotion rang out.
“Charlie, your hotel actually has a chance then!”
“You doubted it?!”
“Well toots, I won’t say I doubted it-”
“Angel you literally said you’re here only for free rent-”
“Charlie! My little girl, I always believed in you!”
“Well! This is an interesting development, wouldn’t you say the same Niffty?”
You flinched at the loud noises. “OKAY! Okay, guys, uh...” You ran a hand through your hair again. “Okay. I think I'll just go into my room? Let you guys deal with the news? Charlie?”
She grinned, and gently tugged at your hand, leading you up a few stairs. “Okay, so I decided maybe you should be on the same floor as Vaggie, dad, and me! Just in case something happens, Vaggie and dad are also fallen angels, so they’ll be able to help.” Charlie smiled brightly, as she opened the door.
“Look! It’s fully furnished! I hope you like it, (Name).”
You beamed at Charlie, giving her a tight hug. “Thank you, for letting me stay here.”
“Of course!” She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, and gave you one last squeeze, before letting you go to bed.
Smiling softly, you sat down on the bed, noting how soft the sheets were, and everything was dusted. Not a speck of dirt.
Just as you were about to go to sleep, you heard a knock at your door. “Come in!” You called, sighing quietly as you glanced longingly at the perfectly fluffed up pillow.
Lucifer entered, a grin on his face. “I came to check up on you,” He said simply, sitting next to you.
Flushing, you gave him a soft look, before glancing away. “I’m doing pretty alright,” You spoke softly, resting your chin on your palm. “Maybe I'm still tired.”
“I expect you to be,” He started, turning to you. “You went through some pretty bad trauma, huh?”
You let out a giggle, because that was quite the understatement. Being cast out literally left you feeling almost empty.
“Hey,” He crooned, placing his hand on your upper back. “Don’t worry too much. Your wings will grow back. They did so with Charlie’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, Vaggie?” You hummed. “I guess it isn’t too bad here. It’s actually a bit better than Heaven.”
Lucifer snorted. “You can say that again. Gosh, you know how bad it was? I remember I literally couldn’t slouch when I walked.”
You laughed softly. “Thankfully that’s gone now. And trust me, you’re the talk of Heaven like, 24/7. You’d think they were in love with you. If I’m not hearing about why Heaven is so great, it’s about how awful you apparently are!”
“They miss me that much, huh?” He batted his eyelashes. “They knew they made a mistake I guess!”
Smiling wryly, you rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. “Oh yeah, I mean, Sera hates when we even say your name in the Council room. Said it was unfitting for such a holy environment. Then as soon as we leave- everyone starts talking!” You sigh. “Heaven was just so... oppressing! I felt like I couldn’t breathe, if I said anything they’d just shut me down!”
“That’s exactly what happened to me!” Lucifer spoke quickly, a distant look on his face. “They casted me out because of my ideas, because I was a dreamer! They didn’t like how I dreamt big, that I had my own way of thinking-”
“Yeah I remember! Lucifer, the dreamer!”
“Yes!” He nods, beaming at you. “It’s been so long, I never thought I’d find someone who understands exactly what I’ve been through.”
You frowned, cocking your head. “What about Vaggie?”
He shook his head, expression filled with longing. “I wish. Vaggie is centuries upon centuries younger than me. You’re closer in age. Plus, she was an exorcist, she lived a different style than me and you did.”
You let out a soft noise, nodding. “I guess that makes sense.”
Lucifer gave you a look, something akin to admiration in his eyes as he grasped your hands softly. “(Name)...”
“Yeah?” You stuttered out, eyes slightly wide as he just gave you another longing look.
“Even though you went through the horrible act of getting your wings ripped away from you... I’m glad you fell.”
You let out a laugh that sounded almost like a sob, eyes tearing up a bit. “I’m... I’m glad I fell too.” You shifted, before you reached over, pressing a light kiss on his cheek.
His cheeks gained an even redder hue, and he blinked slowly, trying to gain his bearings. “(Name),” He started, taking a deep breath.
“I’ve just... always wanted to do that.” You said lightly, pulling your hands away to gently press your fingers against the spot you kissed. Smiling, you let your hand fall, and lean back on your haunches, grinning. “So, what happened during the last extermination?”
Lucifer let out a quiet groan, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how expressive and over the top he was. “My little girl apparently got some sinners to help her? I think she said they were from Cannibal Town...”
You smiled. “I’ve walked past that town. It’s... interesting. They only eat dead bodies, thankfully.”
Grinning, Lucifer continued. “So this sinner demon, Algastor-”
“Alastor,” You interrupted, smirking at his purposeful mispronunciation of the Radio Demon’s name.
“ Algastor. ” He repeated, scowling with mock annoyance. “Began to fight Adam, or so I heard. Apparently Adam messed him up? And he retreated. The others told me that Adam was also acting really smug...”
You made a noise of disgust. “Ugh. I despise Adam, and he even had the audacity to date me...! Man, I broke off that relationship as soon as his true self began to show.”
Lucifer blinked. “You dated Adam?”
Wincing, you nodded. “Yeah, I decided, why not? He seemed nice enough to me anyway, and it was a spur of the moment decision anyways. But he was such a dick to me after a few months! Like, you can’t even last a year without your assholeness showing?”
The fallen angel laughed. “Well,” He said, in a cocky tone. “You’d be glad to hear that I defeated him! Even though that sinner named Niffty killed him.... I wanted to do that. ”
You giggled at the last part. “Hope you’re better than Adam in a lot of ways. He was such a bad lover, I mean, can you even believe he had two wives?”
Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I actually never went to bed with the man. He refused to go down on me, so I refused to do the same. We never copulated due to how selfish he was.”
Lucifer was silent for a bit, and you felt the energy around you two shift a little. “He never went down on you?” He asked, and you slowly shook your head.
You let out a quiet noise when Lucifer loomed over you, and like this, you can clearly see the desire in his eyes. “Do you want me to do so?” He asked, and you nodded quickly.
The room’s air swiftly became heated as he gave you a cocky grin, pulling your bottom layers off. “Since that asshole,” He started, pausing to kiss at your exposed abdomen and thighs. “Didn’t go down on you like a gentleman should-” Your breath hitched as Lucifer tugged your underwear from your cunt with his sharp teeth. “I’ll be doing it for him. If he was alive, he should thank me.”
Biting your lip, you trembled as Lucifer began to kiss right over your mound, his eyes on you as he did so. You let out a warbly moan when his tongue slithered out, forked like a snake’s, and licked the expanse of your lower stomach before pressing light kisses.
Huffing, you gently pushed his head down, trying to get him to get on with it, and with a low chuckle, he gently lapped at your soaked cunt.
Once you moaned in pleasure, his gentle movements instantly gained more confidence, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. “You taste absolutely divine,” He growled, pressing two fingers against your wet slit.
“Fuck,” You panted, your hand instantly going to his hair as you squeezed your thighs together. “Ah- Lucifer!”
He smirked. “That’s right, say my name.” He spoke, voice low and sultry as he began to pump two fingers inside you, your arousal making an embarrassing squelch sound.
Crying out softly, you bucked your hips, huffing at the waves of pleasure rolling through you. Lucifer may be prideful, but he wouldn’t have so much pride if he didn’t know what he was doing, and fuck was he good at eating you out like his life depended on it.
You let out a shameful whine when he pulled away, only to yelp when instead of his fingers, it was his tongue reaching deep inside you, flickering at and then past your g-spot, and you couldn’t help the absolutely debauched moan that came out of you.
In a swift fashion, his fingers were rubbing circles on your clit, and you seized, thighs shaking against either side of his head as you felt the blood rush from your head to your clit, your orgasm causing you to cry out loudly.
“Awh... look at how well you took that.” You felt heat flood your cheeks as Lucifer praised you softly, his red eyes on you. “Are you ready for the main course?”
“Yes,” You managed to whisper, voice shaking. As he lifted himself fully from your thighs, you felt yourself blush even harder at the sight. His eyeshadow was smeared, and you had no doubt some of it was smeared on your thighs; his mouth was shiny with your slick, and he was licking his fingers, a smirk present on his face.
Lucifer gently maneuvered your body, spreading your legs wide as he began to strip slowly, taking in his reactions, and how sexy you looked underneath him, waiting to be ruined, waiting to experience sin.
“Fuck, Lucifer, just take it off!” You complained, gripping at his pants. He laughed softly, kissing you gently.
Once he was full bare, he ripped your top off, causing you to squeak. Lucifer kissed your shoulder, then your cheek, pressing into you slowly.
Your breath hitched as your walls fluttered, eyes closing at the intrusion. “Wait,” You panted, trying to relax. “Give me a minute.”
The King of Hell stopped, running a hand through your hair as he kissed your nose. “Just tell me when I can continue, darling.”
Flushing at the nickname, you nodded, hooking your legs around his waist. “You can continue, Luci.” You whispered, face heating up as you used the nickname.
He blinked, before grinning, toothy and sharp. He began to roll his hips into yours, letting out a groan at the feel of your tight cunt around him.
“Shit,” You whimpered, biting at your thumb. “You’re so big- ah! Shit!”
Lucifer laughed, smug as he quickened his pace, strings of your arousal dripping onto the sheets and clinging onto his pelvic bone which each thrust. “Damn, you needed this, didn’t you, (Name)?” He moaned out.
You let out a soft laugh, freezing when Lucifer’s breath hitched. “Sorry,” You instantly apologized, eyeing him carefully. “Did I hurt you?”
“Don’t apologize, you... You just tightened up around me, that’s all.” He struggled to speak coherently, and you noted how he pulsed inside you.
Taking a deep breath, his pace began to wane from the even and deep thrusts to sloppier and faster thrusts. You couldn’t help the little moans and whines that left you from just how full you felt, the pressure in your gut increasing. It felt different, somehow, then your earlier orgasm.
Lucifer kissed you again, and you couldn’t help but moan loudly into his mouth, as you gushed over him, reflexively tightening around him again.
“You feel so fucking good, (Name). Better than I ever had.” He praised you, before sucking a dark mark right above your collarbone. “Shit, I’m about to cum, darling.”
You grasped either side of his face, kissing him deeply. “Cum inside me.” You whispered against his lips.
His face flushed a pretty shade of red as he came deep inside you, groaning as he rutted into you. Your breath hitched as your orgasm flowed, causing you to squirt all over him, soaking the sheets underneath your body. You let out a shuddering gasp as Lucifer rubbed your clit, prolonging your orgasm.
“Okay!” You yelped, gently pushing his hand away. “Sorry,” You whispered, shaking. “It began to get too much.”
Lucifer smiled, kissing you softly. “Don’t apologize. I understand.” Nuzzling close, he snapped his fingers, the wet spot underneath you disappearing. You felt slightly sticky and gross, but Lucifer was cuddling you, and he felt so warm. You just sighed, nuzzling closer to him.
The day after, Charlie pulled you off to the side, smiling at you gently. “Take care of my dad, okay?”
You furrow your brows, slightly confused. “What do you mean?”
She bit her lip, messing with the end of her braid. “I mean, sometimes he gets into these really bad slumps! Like, it lasts for years sometimes. And... I don’t want that to happen again. You and him obviously got really close last night-”
“Sorry!” You intervened, flushing. “I didn’t realize you could probably hear it!”
Charlie laughed awkwardly. “Nevermind that! Just, take care of him, (Name).”
You smiled gently. “Alright.”
Charlie embraced you, laughing. “Thanks! And uh, maybe I’ll ask Alastor to make the rooms soundproof.”
#oneshot#fluff#hazbin hotel smut#reader insert#smut#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer magne#creamp!e#praise k!nk#plot#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#lucifer magne x reader
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#underwaves au#utmv#undertale au#plot#comic#:’) cringing a little at my own writing but it’s ok#ofc we need an intro right o(-( !!!! I shortened it tho dnfngh (lazy)#myart
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SAKURA.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader
NOTE: i really liked this idea and merged it with my little daydream of Gojo being in his clan and meeting you in a small village (like before he moved to the city or something) and tweaked it just a lil bit if that's ok!! i hope i delivered, and mwa ty for your request lovely anon i hope i got it all right, enjoyyy 💐
REQUEST: Can you pls write gojo who gets the Hanahaki disease cause of reader and gojos condition worsens so to keep the strongest alive the higher ups set up an arranged marriage with reader (her mission is to love gojo so he doesn’t die but she is defensive and uncooperative at first) but then she warms up to gojo (he does everything to make her happy) and they both live happily ever after 😭💕
SUMMARY — you meet a boy on a Taiko-bashi as a child. Little did you know, he was the prodigal son of the Gojo clan, and you would be married into that family to save his life.
WARNINGS — heavy angst to fluffy fluff, he steals ur first kiss, domestic life with ur kid Megumi at the end <3 😭, unrequited -> requited love, arranged marriage, quite a lot of blood/bloody flower mentions, disease/afflicted with coughing spells (see about the fictional Hanahaki disease here. Basically u cough up flowers and/or throw up full flowers if it gets life-threatening), poor boy almost dies, there’s a scene where it’s insinuated that he throws up a full flower, some teasing/playfulness yk the usual you'd expect from gojo, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u
WORDCOUNT ≈ 4.3k
PLAY ME ♪ bouquet — Ichiko Aoba
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
When you were seven, a boy a few years older than you – perhaps two or three – passed you by on a Taiko-bashi in a small village. You remember him as the boy with peculiar eyes and white hair who looked back at you on the bridge. In your eyes, it was a very ordinary encounter with a very extraordinary looking stranger.
But in his infinitely blue eyes, there was ingrained a more meaningful and vivid memory of that encounter. He held it very close to his heart. When you and he made that brief eye contact as he looked behind his shoulder, slowing at his mother’s side, he felt a windswept, lovestruck feeling come over him. He batted his pretty lashes at you and stopped walking for a fleeting moment, as if captivated, and then went his separate way with the image of your face burned into the forefront of his mind. His kimono fluttered as he tended to walk in a gliding manner.
When you were fourteen, the same encounter happened again. A familiarly pale face with barely grown-in features looked back at you – his whole body felt a twinge of excitement. He only took one small moment to look at you and yet knew you were the same girl he saw as a child on this very same bridge.
Years went by, and the two of you kept encountering each other at peculiar times in your lives at that same bridge. Neither of you spoke to each other once, well, you didn’t say a word – but he uttered a few boyishly desperate greetings and even bowed as he glided past you to try and get your attention. If only you would have stopped for a chat, the poor boy would have given anything for that.
In some way, it felt like the two of you knew each other, though it was only your eyes that ever talked.
Come your eighteenth birthday, you were burdened with awful news. You were to be married to a man you had never met – someone from the Gojo clan. That person was apparently fatally sick with a disease you had scarce knowledge on. You asked your friend at the time, her name you’ve long forgotten by now, about Hanahaki and all she said was;
“Your lover is going to spit flowers in your face.”
You scrunched your nose up in disgust and confusion at this. A very silly image formed in your mind about the disease ever since your old friend had said that – all you could imagine was your future husband spitting saliva-wettened, half-destroyed flowers at your face.
The Gojo family and your family had always distantly known each other, hence all the visits to the village that they resided in. Your marriage to Gojo was long-debated throughout the years – yet neither you nor him knew anything about it. Neither of you prospected marriage, you were just the two strangers that passed each other on the Taiko-bashi every time the Sakura was in bloom.
The first time you and the son of the Gojo clan were introduced, it had already begun with a rocky start. You walked in when he had been overwhelmed with a coughing fit, and you were hushed back outside. The shoji door smacked shut behind you, and you heard sickly coughs piercing through the translucent sheets. When your future husband stopped coughing, and the blood and petals were cleaned up, you were brought back into the room. There were both your families and some important-looking officials in the large room, all formally sat on the tatami mats with mixed expressions. His mother seemed delighted at the sight of your face – but not more than her son.
Gojo Satoru, an eighteen-year-old at the time, with usually such a loud mouth and good joke up his sleeve, was rendered speechless when you had walked into the room. He analysed and absorbed every feature that made up the image of what he thought was the most charming and alluring creature ever to exist. Definitely a creature, he thought as you formally bowed with him, because no human could possess such an ethereal beauty.
Satoru was intrigued by you from your encounter on the Taiko-bashi, but when he was finally introduced to you he was utterly captivated.
The reasons and conditions for your marriage with the Gojo clan’s prodigal son conflicted with your strong beliefs in love and romance. You had rather aggressively told the poor boy your opinions in the days leading up to your wedding.
“I always thought,” you emphasized with a snotty tone, yet he listened to you like one would listen to the tranquil flow of the river under the Taiko-bashi, “that I would marry someone I loved, and not be forced to love…” you seemed so disappointed with how your life was turning out, that he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for you.
“I’m a positive person, I have faith that you’ll fall in love with me in no time.” He said cheekily and winked at you. You felt very taken aback by such straight-forward flirting – you must understand, no boys in your village ever did that. They were very proper, even reserved.
He was almost charming in that instant, but then he added; “Who wouldn’t fall in love with me?”
At the time he was so full of himself that you could hardly believe there was space for any petals in his body. But there certainly was – when you left him alone in that room and stormed off, appalled by his conceit, he clutched the side of the door frame and coughed up little pink petals – enough to comprise three whole flowers.
It started worrying him, a few days before the wedding, when he started coughing more often. And not just that, but he started coughing up more petals than he had ever in his life. The peculiar disease had started during a time in his childhood that was coincidentally very close to the time he first passed you by on the bridge.
The night before the wedding, he laid in bed and brooded. And he was never the type to brood – he let life happen and moved on relatively easily. But he brooded, and brooded until it felt like he sunk so deep into his futon that he became one with it. The ceiling blurred.
What was going to happen if you didn’t fall in love?
That thought scared him so much that he violently drove it out of his mind and replaced it with an ideal daydream; he envisioned you and him cuddled up, bracing each other’s bodies, and melting into each other like real lovers do. He imagined you would be warmer than him, with that cool touch he had, and you would also stroke his hair. It was very fluffy, he made sure to point that out to you several times – but you never took a hint.
On the day of your wedding, he snuck to meet you just before the ceremony. He was crouched in the garden outside the room that you were preparing in. It’s then when he heard you voice your feelings to whoever it was helping you get ready.
“How can I love a stranger? And anyways, he is so full of himself, I can hardly believe there’s space for any flowers in there. There’s nothing I like about him.”
“Oh, Y/n, you have yet to learn about him. I’m sure you will find he’s rather charming. He is the pride of the Gojo clan, after all – he has the Six Eyes and Limitless. He’s the strongest, he’ll always be able to protect you – ”
It sounded like the woman talking about him was your mother, with how she praised him so much. She was right, Gojo thought; he could protect you from anything.
His expression was grave after hearing your thoughts. But he put on a lightened smile and masked his slight heartbrokenness when the rituals and main ceremony commenced.
It was a very formal, rigid ceremony. Gojo looked up at you sadly a few times, wishing you would spare a glance. He brooded on the idea that you’ll never love him like he loves you, and then a sickening, ticklish feeling spread in his throat and just as the closing ritual ended, he burst into a coughing fit – one of his worst yet. A bit of blood dribbled out his flushed lips, contrasting against his pale skin. Of course you were concerned – and of course you felt the urge to help and comfort him. But those feelings were purely out of the goodness of your heart.
Friends share love. But even when you and Gojo developed something resembling a friendship, it didn’t alleviate his disease. It was embarrassing sometimes, to realize that you were failing at the one thing you had to do; and that was keep him alive.
He was quite genuinely dying for you to love him.
Yet you refused to be in the same room as him for too long. Your mother had to encourage you. Eventually, both his family and your family worked together to make sure you and Gojo spent adequate time with each other. They organized meetups ranging from fancy nights-out to long voyages to weekend sleepovers. It was comical, how your families got along more smoothly than you and Gojo.
It’s the spring of his nineteenth birthday when the thought of kissing you becomes a reality. Well, it doesn’t go as he planned it. See, Gojo envisioned that kissing you would solve all his problems – he thought he could infect you with his love, somehow worm into your heart through a passionate kiss.
So when you and him sat for tea in a spacious room, kneeled side by side on the tatami mats, he went in for a kiss. You were distractedly straightening out your kimono when suddenly a pair of inexperienced, boyish lips crashed onto yours.
“Mmf!” you reacted with sheer shock – why on earth was he kissing you? The audacity, he had just insulted and made a mockery of you with a cheeky, playful attitude.
“Satoru!” you whined into his mouth.
He cupped the back of your neck and partly entangled his hands in your hair. White lashes sat pretty as he closed his eyes and glided his wettened lips over yours. For the briefest moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss. But suddenly, as if your principles of love kicked back in and stomped on the moment, you shoved him away.
And a hard shove that was, he fell out of balance and landed on the mats with his elbows, a look of shock and surprise twisting into comedy.
“Playing hard to get?” he joked. His heart sunk ever so slightly at your rejection.
“You can’t just kiss a girl!”
“Come on, I’m your husband – if I can’t kiss you, then who is allowed to?” he asked.
You looked furious, like you were about to bite him, so he slowly started backtracking.
“I just wanted to see if kissing you would – ”
“How dare you, that was my first kiss! I thought I would have a cute first kiss, not a hasty one shared over… over a cup of tea!” you complained.
His expression changed and he started sputtering apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I – ahuh!” he started lightly coughing.
And now it was your turn to feel apologetic, because all the bad tension between you and him brought on another violent coughing fit for him.
“I’m okay.” He choked out, eyes water and face reddened – some blood pooled at the corners of his lips, he instinctually brought his hand up to his mouth to catch any that dripped.
You rushed and kneeled over him, placing a much-needed soothing hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, I’m sorry.”
He tried to muster up a joke to lighten your worry, “H-hey, since when d’you call me S-Satoru? I thought it was strictly Go-jo.” he was interrupted by more coughing.
You comforted him, until his parents came into the room. They seemed disappointed with you, but masked it.
The night fell heavy all around the Gojo home. The barren Sakura trees’ branches subtly shook in the wind. A storm was approaching.
“Hey, sweetlips.” Gojo slipped into your room as you were in the middle of preparing for bed. “There’s a big storm comin’, if you get scared you can sleep with me.”
“Are you out of your mi-” you shut up when a sudden, extraordinary crack of lightning sounded and shocked you right out of your skin.
Gojo had a little laughing fit at your overreaction. He was completely calm at such a loud noise. Of course he was.
“I’m not sleeping with you!” you muttered angrily, but then you saw the dejection on his face – no, rather, you saw the way he tried to conceal it, and you felt bad.
Maybe tonight is the night you’ll try harder, you thought.
“Okay, well, don’t cry like a wimp if the thunder scares you ‘cause I won’t come running to soothe you.” He said and left you alone.
When he walked down the hall, his fingers grazed over his lips. All he could think about was how blissful it felt to kiss you, even if you did reject him. And he was your first kiss – maybe it was wrong to smile over that, but he couldn’t help himself as he climbed into the comforts of his bed.
A violent rainstorm engulfed the village.
As the lightning got more frequent and more terrifying, Gojo scrunched up his shoulders and half-hid his face under his blanket. He felt like a boy again, as scared of the thunderstorms as he was when he was seven years old. His pretty upturned nose peaked over the blanket, eyes glistening with tears as he recalled the fateful day you and him encountered each other at the Taiko-bashi.
He held onto that memory with a death grip. No one else ever had the honor of being so close to his heart, not even his best friend who he had made at Jujutsu high when he was seventeen. No, that heart of his he kept reserved for you. He thought to himself that night, while curling up on his side in pain, that even if he dies, at least he would die having been able to love you – albeit without reciprocation.
And then it happened. He shot up and let out a violent cough, and began spluttering over his white blanket. The thunderstorm was so violent that it muffled even the violent coughing in his room. His head felt like a dense ball of tension.
Unrequited love for many boys his age was heartbreaking, but not deadly. He morbidly laughed at that fact, observing the flower that he had thrown up onto his blanket, soaked in his blood.
He was dying.
He defeatedly closed his eyes, breathing through his blood-glistening mouth. His chest lightly heaved. “Y/n, you’re really gonna be the death of me… ah, oh well. That’s okay.” He muttered madly to himself and fell back onto his bed, too weak to stay awake any longer.
It was probably the work of the universe, but you floated down the unlit hall and tapped at Gojo’s doorframe. “Are you awake? Satoru?” you called his name in a gentle murmur.
There was an eerie silence. You slid open the door and caught a glimpse of bloodied sheets and a mangled-looking flower.
“Satoru!” you rushed over to him, stirring him awake with a harsh shake on his arm. “Satoru? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”
He groaned weakly – you felt a small relief. He wasn’t dead, though he really looked pale enough to be. His cheeks were flushed, his lips cracked and dry with residual blood.
Not a word you spoke sounded coherent to him though it was, all he heard was the soothing qualities in your voice. Though his vision was blurred, he knew it was you, because he felt the familiar air and scent of you.
He felt a strange sort of alleviation when you cupped his cheeks, murmuring something. Oh, when did he end up in a doctor’s room, laid on a patient’s cot? Weren’t you and him just in his bedroom at night, during a loud thunderstorm?
All he recalled was that you held his hand and squeezed it for a long time, while you were travelling somewhere. He remembered feeling your comforting presence each time his consciousness stirred.
“Have I died and gone to heaven?” he chuckled jokingly, feeling your lips press to his forehead.
“Huh?”
“Probably dreaming…” he muttered to himself.
“Satoru, you’re not in heaven you’re at Doctor Tanaka’s home.” You told him.
He pinched his eyes shut, overwhelmed by his afflicting sickness and Six Eyes.
“I’m so sorry…” he heard you speaking in a more tender voice to him than you ever had before. He felt the pressure in his chest lessen as you spoke, “… I was going to come to you because the thunderstorm scared me… no, actually, because I wanted to be with you. I felt this overwhelming urge to be at your side, and I don’t know why. Satoru, I’ve been such a fool. I’ve been such a scared fool, fearful of loving a stranger. Or, no, I guess I’ve feared loving someone I’m not supposed to be loving. You’re so special I feel driven away by it. But I promise I won’t flee from your love anymore, Satoru – I love you, and I’ll express it as much as I can in this feeble human form. The rest of our love will happen in the stars, after we die, I guess.”
He opened his eyes. It felt like the burdening fog that had been plaguing him since he was a little boy on the Taiko-bashi finally cleared. Everything felt fresh and sharp, and good and properly comforting. It felt like he had woken up from a long dream or arrived home from a harrowing journey through the landscapes of his mind.
“So you can be good with your words.” Was the first thing he said, and that was such a Gojo response that you knew he was okay.
“How do you feel?” you asked him, peering down at him.
He groaned and stretched and shifted around, fussing dramatically.
“I feel…” he began, and looked over at your lips. “Like I deserve to be kissed.”
“Oh, shut up you…”
He pouted. “Okay, ‘guess the kissing can wai- mmf!”
You kissed him very quickly and recoiled from shyness. His lips were divine.
He shot up out of the bed like he couldn’t just believe what happened.
“Wow.” He blinked at you. “So gutsy, you know you’re not allowed to kiss your husband!” he joked.
“You are such a – ”
“ – good kisser?”
“An idiot!” you giggled, genuinely enjoying his company.
The two of you bantered, basking in the newfound feeling of shared love. When the doctor came back in, he was preparing to witness the worst – but he was utterly surprised and at a loss for words when he walked in on you two smiling and laughing.
And it was the talk of the village. Neighbors gossiped, “Did you hear that Gojo Satoru is cured?” they spoke amongst themselves, “I heard! Apparently it’s a very romantic love story, did you read the newspaper article?”
You and Gojo drifted down the Taiko-bashi, together. He squeezed your hand when you set foot on the bridge, the cool skin of his wrist tickling your inner wrist as they pressed together.
“What are we doing here?” you asked him confusedly.
“Don’t you know this place? It’s the place we met.”
“Ooh, you’re romantic, huh?” you smirked.
A small blush crowned his cheeks.
“I’ve been romantic since the start.” He defended.
“What d’you mean! You were so cheeky!” you kicked his leg.
“I was quite a menace, I’m sorry – not sorry – kidding, kidding, I am sorry.”
He looked at you with a cheeky smirk, knowing damn well what you were talking about.
“You know…” he began, looking over the bridge at the river flowing beneath and admiring how the stream carried the Sakura blossoms. “Whenever I used to get coughing fits – bad ones – I would soothe myself with the memory of when we first met here. I can still recall the kimono you wore, and the Sakura that got tangled in your hair – and I thought about…” he came closer to you, speaking with a charming allure, “How badly I wanted to pluck that flower from your hair.”
You blinked up at him. How could such romantic words come out of him? You didn’t know how to respond.
“Ooh, did I make you shy?” he teased.
“No…”
“I totally made you shy. That’s so sweet. Are you blushing?” he giggled, putting his cool palm up to your cheek to feel the heat, “Oh, you’re blushing blushing. You could burn my hand right off.”
“Satoru!” you giggled.
“Ah!” he clutched his chest dramatically when you said his name, “Don’t say my name like that! I have a wife.” He joked.
“You are ridiculous!”
He gave you a big, toothy smile. “But you love me for it.”
“I do.” You tell him, and though he’s heard it many times after that day, each time feels like the first time you’re saying you love him.
“Gimme a kiss.” He asks.
“Come get it.” You tease, slowly backing away off the bridge.
“Seriously? You’re gonna make me chase you for a kiss? I’ve coughed up petals because of you, ‘n you’re gonna do me like this – heyyy! Get back here!”
Running into the petal-littered streets like carefree kids felt so freeing and exhilarating. He felt like he was catching up on all the fun he missed, if only you would have lived in his village as a child or visited more often.
“Got you!”
“Ah! Jesus, you scared – mmmf!”
He didn’t hesitate to take a much-needed kiss from your quivering lips. He kissed you so hard that you felt dizzied, lost for breath, rendered speechless. And he relished the love pouring out from you.
You stood there being kissed by your husband in a quaint alley, standing tiptoed on the Sakura blossom-littered ground to meet him halfway. Gojo’s heart thumped at the smallest things, like the fact you were standing on your tiptoes – that was the cutest thing in the world to him.
The two of you took a break for breath, and silently admired the Sakura blossoms as they drifted, being swept away by the wind.
Gojo looked at them, and looked at you, and thought of everything that had happened up until now. He was about to say something lovey-dovey but blurted out a dumb joke instead just to hear your laugh.
“Damn, I used to cough up those things.”
You laughed, “Your jokes aren’t good, Satoru.”
“But you laughed.” He said cockily.
��Shut up or I will never kiss you again.” You playfully threatened.
“You don’t mean it.” He tilted his head at you. You cracked a smile.
On the walk home, he kept calling you various nicknames – all flowers.
That day became a cherished memory of the past as the two of you weaved your way into proper adulthood. And the nicknames followed; he went through the whole flower alphabet, even the bizarrely named ones, even the Latin root names. When he wanted to annoy you, he’d call you prunus subgenus cerasus.
Now Gojo fusses around the living room of his tiny Tokyo apartment, preparing food for a little boy of the name Megumi. The day is full and busy, but any second he can get with you, he relishes.
“My tulip, 'gimme a kiss.” He asks.
“Come get it.” You tease.
“Ew.” Megumi grimaces, hearing this exchange right as he walks into the kitchen. He walks right back out.
“Gumi, get back here, food is almost ready.” Gojo calls after him, then leans down to try and kiss you but you playfully dodge him.
It always happens like that – he asks for a kiss, you refuse jokingly, he chases after you for a kiss and you scamper away. Like a running joke that’s a callback to your past.
“C’mere, you – ” he finally snatches you up, too needy for a kiss to play around anymore. “Stay right there and let me kiss you.”
He enjoys every second of kissing you, embracing you tight like he’s never letting go. Just like when he first kissed you, Gojo cups the back of your neck and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It has you breathless, gasping – he’s so alluring that you shudder.
“Satoru!” you scold, “The food will get cold…” you excuse.
“Okay, okay. But you owe me extra kisses tonight.” He winks.
“You’ll have to get them out of me yourself.” You tease.
“Oh, I will, don’t you worry. I’ll take every little kiss I can.” He says determinedly.
He pecks at your lips, savoring the sound and feeling of the act.
“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, and walks out the kitchen just as he walks in like earlier.
“Gumi! Food! Sit-your-silly-butt-and-eat! You rascal you.” Gojo lifts him by the armpits, and tickles him like a real dad.
Megumi is poker-faced at the tickling.
“Y/n, tell Gojo he’s being annoying.”
“Husband, you’re being annoying.” You murmur up at Gojo.
“Am I?” he smiles down at you, giving you another cheeky peck.
Megumi sighs.
“Stop spyin’ and start eating, little lotus.” Gojo threatens playfully.
“Dad. Save the flower nicknames for Y/n.” Megumi scrunches his nose up.
Gojo's face lit up. “Okay, okay. Enjoy eating, I'm gonna go see where she went off to.”
He hurried into the bedroom where you had wandered into and excitedly whisper-shouted “He called me dad!” he gushed like he was the happiest man alive.
© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
#♥️ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟#angst#fluff#plot#gojo x fem reader#gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojo saturo#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojou satoru x yo#gojo satoru x reader#hanahaki#hanahaki disease#angst with a happy ending
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♢The Legendary and The Revolutionary ♡
""A long long long time ago... ancient times, the Legendary Chalice found a war orphan and raised her to become her apprentice, the guardian of Calix Animi...her name is....""
Calix Animi family–>> ♣️ Previous ♥️ -----♠️Next♦️
( The posts of this family series are not in story order )
Bonus:
*Please do not repost, copy, or trace my artwork!
Cupbros blog |Main blog| Twitter | Patreon
Card background reference
Poses Reference :
#cuphead#cuphead and mugman parents#cuphead parents#cuphead oc#the legacy of inkwell isle#cuphead dont deal with the devil#Revolutionary Teacup#legendary chalice#Calix Animi#cuphead ocs#lore#plot#ancestor / rebirth#digital art
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RivenTale
Family Drama
After months of coexsisting with the Skele-Brothers...
Something had to finally explode...
Notes:
When a monster bonds with a human and forms a deep connection through soulmateship, profound changes occur within the monster. The effects of this bond are transformative and go beyond the physical realm, extending into the emotional and magical aspects of the monster's existence.
Monsters absorb the traits that the human that they’ve bonded with has, meaning that their attack type might change or modify slightly
A soulmate doesnt have to neceserily mean a lover, it can be a friend, a family member
Building an actual bond and connecting with the monster has it’s pros and cons. The monster gains a soul, can use magic and doesn’t suffer from starvation anymore, the bonded monster’s magic resonates with the soul of their human and becomes stronger when around them. However that soul bond makes both creatures slightly more vulnerable, if one of them gets hurt, the other one will feel that effect aswell.
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Their training was getting boring
Am I the only one that think that wukong didn’t want a successor but just a kid to do goofy stuff with
#art#comics#elira#plot#manga#lego sun wukong#lego monkie king#lego monkie kid#mk#qi xiaotian#lmk#lego art
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Catalysts for Your Rising Action
Someone close to your protagonist dies
Your protagonist loses a memento
A challenge makes your protagonist run away from their life
Your main character accomplishes a goal and feels unsatisfied
The goal your protagonist has always wanted becomes suddenly impossible to achieve
Your main character wants to change someone's life for the better
Revenge is the only thing on your protagonist's mind
Your main character sees a community need and strives to solve it
Something morally or ethically changes in your protagonist that makes them interact with the world in a fundamentally different way
#plot#action#writing action#plot development#writeblr#writing advice#writing tips#writing inspiration#writing community#creative writing#writing help#writers of tumblr#writing#writing resources#plot device#character arc#character creation#character building#writing characters
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Plot vs. Story: Why the Difference Matters
Is there a difference between plot and story? NaNo participant Hedi Mohammed walks us through this question and talks about how knowing the difference can help you in your writing.
You may be wondering why this is a question at all. While it might not be an obvious problem, many writers tend to mash together the words “plot” and “story” and use them interchangeably. How accurate is that assumption?
It turns out that there is a notable difference between them, and knowing it gives you an edge over plot bunnies, characters acting out, and all kinds of other problems!
What is a Plot?
A plot is a collection of events that happen in a certain order in a story. More importantly, plot is what your characters respond to; it’s the combination of this action and reaction that moves a story forward. Therefore, the plot is considered a building block rather than the whole.
What is a Story?
On the other hand, a story is more than the sum of its parts; it includes the plot events, characters, worldbuilding, themes, and wording of your book. All of these different building blocks come together to form a complete, well-written recount of the story you want to tell.
Why is Knowing the Difference Important?
As you can imagine, trying to force the idea of plot, a building block, being equal to the entire story is a recipe for disaster.
By equating the plot to the whole story, you might find yourself focusing primarily on what happens in the world of your characters. This can make you accidentally compromise on other equally important parts of your story, like better characterization, without you realizing it.
Remember that plot events mean nothing without the reactions of the characters to them. There are many sides to a good story; events can be seen as heartfelt, cold, or scary depending on how characters react and how you set the scene.
How It Helps You Improve Your Writing
Simply knowing the difference between plot and story can clear up a few of the issues that writer’s block can stem from, like not knowing which direction your story is taking. Additionally, you can:
Prioritize different parts of your story. By moving away from the plot every now and then, you start to notice other areas that may need more work.
Improve the characterization of your characters. With the relationship between plot and characters in mind, you can develop your protagonist(s) and antagonist(s) alongside the events that affect them.
Explore more creative ways to make use of your worldbuilding/themes. Develop your mood in less common ways, or take advantage of simple sentences to make punchy statements.
Stay motivated and power through writer’s block. If you consider writer’s block a mystery to be solved, then you just made a breakthrough!
Here you go, a tidbit of information for your writing needs! While the misunderstanding may seem small, resolving it can have an incredible effect on your writing process.
Hedi Mohammed is an up-and-coming content writer and editor of MIST: After the Apocalypse, an Egyptian bestselling novel. Now that they have much more time to dedicate to writing, be on the lookout for fiction and poetry books of their own coming soon!
Photo by Alina Vilchenko
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Would you mind sharing your planning process of the comic? I'm starting to brainstorm a fiction idea and right now the ideas are very messy and I wanted to know if you could show how you plan what happens on a season and on an episode, maybe with an example of a season episode you already published, so I can learn how to organize myself?
I really, REALLY appreciate you coming to ask me for help with this. It's awesome to hear that you respect my writing enough to seek me out as an authority on such things, or at least enough to ask for advice.
But I'm gonna be real with you - what you're asking for is not a quick slapdash reply that I can whip up in my free time. What you're asking for is an hour long video essay (with examples) on the level of an educational creative writing online course.
And I--I don't know if I have it in me to do that right now. Not with everything else I'm trying to do. (Sorry.)
BUT.
What I can give you instead is a basic rundown, and maybe some recommendations for where to this stuff.
To be absolutely brief: For me, the best way to visualize how I plan would be to make a flowchart.
Keep in mind that....... I don't ever actually.......MAKE. A flowchart.
Mostly, I am just using this as a visual representation of how my ideas flow from and to each other in a coherent way. The reality is that this skill is something you have to develop until it becomes second nature.
As an example, let's take the episode(s) where I introduced Seaglass.
This little arc was planned in season 3, but really started to come into play in Season 4.
To make it happen, I started with the obvious main idea: SEAGLASS.
I then broke it down into multiple smaller ideas:
If you notice, the main plot of this doesn't even start when the Seaglass exposition does. Steven makes Seaglass back in season 3, but doesn't know about it. But these ideas are still important to acknowledge as being a part of the main plot.
I then fill in MORE space between these larger ideas.
This whole set of steps is just a logical progression of me playing 'how do we get there'. I make up plot points and say 'what happens to get from A to B?'
And keep in mind - this may seem kinda obvious. That's because... it should be! But that's how the planning happens.
Realistically, it's just a bunch of asking myself questions. The same exact questions I refuse to answer in asks.
"What happens next? What would happen if....?" "Why doesn't Steven know about ....?"
"How would Steven find Seaglass if he doesn't know she exists?"
Well she's small and green, kinda like Peridot. So he goes looking for Peridot and mistakes Seaglass for her.
BAM! You've got yourself a plot point. That's a plan, baybee!
And then just kinda rinse and repeat.
And eventually, you want to make sure that you have some sort of connection back to the main plot point. In this case, it's the realization that Steven CREATED LIFE.
Again, I want to stress - I don't actually........plan.... by writing this down.
I do this process in my head. Often, multiple times per chapter, writing and editing to make it make more and more sense. The important part is about asking yourself questions. The same questions your readers should be asking.
"Why is this character doing this?" "Why is this event happening NOW?" "How will A find out when they realize what B has done?" "What is the BEST time for B to find out...? What is the WORST time?"
All of this takes imagination. It isn't about organization. It's moreso about learning to tetris plot events into their most snug spaces. It's about thinking of events as a staircase, which eventually leads to a larger staircase of plot arcs.
And as a final note, I will say that someday, when I'm less busy, I may make a video about plot. But it will take more time and effort, and for now, please just watch videos by other creators! I'm sure they're just as good at it as I am.
youtube
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(i swear the next one will answer an ask. just gotta get through all this plot (: )
…Prev ♠️ ♦Next...
♥ First ♣
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Moon 0 - A single lone warrior wanders the mountainside in the middle of a blizzard. She is carrying two very young kits with her... but why?
| Moon 1.1 ->
Allegiances List
Hi, I'm Danny. I’m starting this clangen comic indirectly bc of @/wyrm-clangen and @/moons-of-dewclan (they’re two of my absolute fave clangen blogs I’ve found recently) n they’ve motivated me to finally give my own clangen comic a go. I've been meaning start on it for a while but I guess better late than never lmao. So here is moon 0! Officially, we have begun ~
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When the monsters were first banished underseas, the magic attracted marine life and helped grow a whole new coral reef - despite being so deep in the ocean. (Coral need sunshine... Here, magic was enough)
But the ocean is getting warmer.
The ambient temperature used to be enough to keep the Core cool.
But... the ocean is getting warmer.
It's getting hot in the barrier.
Feels like summer...
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How are literary and Commercial Stories Different?
Literary plots are meant to explore a specific theme/convey a message to the reader.
Literary plots can be slow paced.
Literary plots can have different types of endings.
Commercial plots are meant to entertain.
Commerical plots are fast-paced.
Commercial plots must almost always have a happy ending.
For Literary Plots:
detailed characterization: authors explore the inner change and development of the character (which means the external action is going to be slower paced)
use of metaphors, symbols, and presentation of ideas in a way that requires analysis
aims to deliver a message or moral
On the other hand, Commercial Plots:
fast-paced and action oriented, delivers highly emotional scenes so entice the reader rather than ambiguous writing
uses intuitive language, setting and tropes to help readers immerse in the story world quickly
often, the stakes are a lot higher
the ending needs to provide a sense of satisfaction for the readers. Otherwise, they might not feel compensated for all the time they invested in reading.
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Reference: <Write Great Fiction: Plot and Structure (techniques and exercises for craftin a plot that grips readers from start to finish)> by James Scott Bell
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