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meowzfordayz · 3 years

Text

no matter the weather

Author’s Note: hate and/or phobic attitudes/behaviors ≠ tolerated. If aforementions apply to you, then pls and ty gtfo. 🙃

no matter the weather

Agatsuma Zenitsu x Reader

Word Count: ~1,900

CW: misgendering, Nb!Reader

Request Fulfilled: Please do a zenitsu x nb reader coming out 🥺 I love your work btw!

~faqs~

Okay okay okay

Addressing the elephant in my brain

I feel… awkward, writing this 😶

Like, not a bad awkward

But like a… I’m-hyper-aware-that-I’m-she/her-identifying awkward ??

I just don’t want to generalize the intimacy of coming out

That being said, some of my friends/mutuals are nonbinary

Not to imply that I fully comprehend being nb just bc “oh whoop dee doo you know nb ppl”

Anywho

Basically I want to do this prompt justice

While being conscientious that I’m she/her identifying

Additionally: I likely would not tackle this subject if it wasn’t specifically requested

i.e. I would naturally consider writing Reader coming out as bisexual, bc I am bi; I would not naturally consider writing Reader coming out as nb, bc I am not nb

Zenitsu fawns over pretty

Natural, man made, tangible, intangible, and pertaining to humans

Maybe also pertaining to demons ?? Bc daaayum some of them do be pretty 👀

Let’s not go there atm LOL

So the first time he meets you

In a clearing in a forest — it’s pouring 🌧 btw bc why not ?? #vibes he’s lowkey lost

Even tho you’re battered, bloodied, bruised, and soaked to the bone

You’re an adept swordsman and member of the Demon Slayer Corps yourself tyvm

(so I actually researched the word “swordsman” for another fanfic bc I wasn’t sure how to make it gn—gender neutral, and apparently its historically acceptable/common to refer to anyone capable of wielding a sword as a “swordsman” 🤓)

All he can focus on is how pretty you are

Nobody looks pretty after slaying demons

Except for you ?? Whoever you are ??

He tries to introduce himself

But do y’all recall how he gets when he’s around pretty ??

Man cannot, does not, will not, function at 100% — maaaybe 63%, but that’s being generous

“Hiiiii,” he garbles

You’re unimpressed, albeit, flattered

“Wait, wait, wait,” he panics as you raise an eyebrow, “I’m Agatsuma Zenitsu!”

Okay

“I’m [y/n],” you’re curt

This man’s drooling 🤤

Like whaaat

Your eyes are pretty

Your hair is pretty

Even your bloody nose is pretty 🤭

And now your name is pretty too ??

How unfair that he can’t even act non creepy

What w/ you short circuiting his neurons’ feeble attempts to fire properly

“How should I address you?” he’s desperate to pay his respects

He knows you’re not a Hashira; not -sama or -sensei

But are you -san?

-chan?

Can he say just [y/n] like he says just Inosuke and Tanjirou?

Let me tell you rn

He’s clinging to the meager control he has left to not call you [y/n]-chan

—I’ve done a ton of Japanese honorific research (I suspect my Japanese honorific research will never end), and basically -chan expresses that the speaker finds the person endearing… akin to calling someone “babe” within 1 minute of knowing them (assuming a I’m-attracted-to-you context)

Like, y’all just met

He’s not aiming to get slapped

But he’s def already daydreaming about singing [y/n]-chan, [y/n]-chan, [y/n]-chan as y’all frolic in some flowering meadow or whatever 💀

Wrong question

“I said, I’m [y/n],” you’re… steely

Still pretty

But sharp

He gulps

Doesn’t shout again as you begin walking away

I mean, I guess it’s cool that she’s comfortable going by first name ??

Took a while to get there w/ Inosuke and Tanjirou

Yup, uh huh, that’s it 😮‍💨

You’re just super chill! 🤗

Man’s down bad

And lost

Hopelessly lost

It’s still pouring

Riperoni Zenitsu

The second time you meet is at the Butterfly Mansion

He’s doing okay surprisingly

You? Not so much

Your arm and leg are fractured

Opposing arm and leg

Author makes the rules, sorry not sorry, the visual of that is too funny

Neither are severe, and mostly due to being overworked (jumping from rooftop to rooftop and falling constantly to the ground can’t be that good for your health altho obvi anime makes it look awesome)

That being said

You’ve received stern warnings, multiple stern warnings, about the importance of resting

“They’re stress fractures at the moment, but you want to be able to use that arm and that leg eventually, right?” Shinobu had admonished you in her cheerful, slightly very passive aggressive tone

“Yes Kocho-sama,” you’d grunted

And then seconds later… “Oh no, no, no- Kocho-sama… ??”

“[y/n]?!”

Agatsuma Zenitsu 😒

“Agatsuma-kun,” you greet him cheekily

He blanches

“You can’t be that much older than me!”

You laugh quietly

And he melts, oozes, gooey

“Fine,” he mumbles, “You can call me whatever’ll make you laugh that like.”

“You’re uninjured,” you observe, “So why are you here?”

“I was injured, and now I’m just waiting for a new mission.” She’s talking to meeeee !! 😍

“I’m thirsty.”

He blinks

You blink

And then there’s a glass of water being held out to you

Wow

“Thunder Breathing?”

He nods Please be impressed, please be impressed, please be impressed

You’re a little impressed, grabbing the glass

“Thank you.”

“Sooo tell me about yourself ??” he tilts his head Is this him being cute? 🧐

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Chores? Training?” you mutter

“I can take care of you!” he’s enthusiastic Irritatingly, enthusiastic

“I can manage.”

“But I’ll make things easier!”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

That deflates him, but not by much

“Would you like me to find Aoi-san and-”

“No,” you grit your teeth, “You, are giving me a headache. Which means you, should go.”

He’s crestfallen

But fear not! Zenitsu perseveres 😤

“I’ll join you for lunch, then?”

You audibly growl

“It’s a date!” he grins, ignoring you

“You better bring extra seaweed crips,” you hiss

So sue me, resting is boring

And his persistence is… charming persistent?

“You can’t hang out with me forever,” you smirk fondly

He pouts

Somehow, Zenitsu’s kept you company for almost an entire week

You occasionally catch yourself thinking My water boy bc srsly — he gets you whatever you ask for, the second you ask for it

Before remembering that he’s supposed to annoy you

Which, he does

But

He’s also…

Interesting ??

An open book

If you’re curious, then he’ll answer

“Why does your hair look like—that?” you gesture vaguely

He blushes, “As in, its color, or its messiness?”

If you lean in as Zenitsu proceeds to tell about his encounter w/ ⚡️🌩⚡️, then he doesn’t mention it

Which is tactful of him

Bc you would’ve kicked him out 🦵💥

Literally

It’s not like both of your legs are on bedrest

“[y/n]…” he’s tentative

“Hm?”

“What’s your favorite weather?”

“Depends on what I’m doing.”

He stares expectantly

🙄

You cave

“On missions, partially cloudy. Less exhausting to fight in a moderate temperature, and an ideal amount of light.”

Zenitsu is thrilled by the details you’re providing *dreamy sigh*

“In general… I appreciate when the weather matches my mood. It’s frustrating when I’m content inside but it’s dreary outside, or when I’m sad inside but it’s rainbows and butterflies outside.”

And then you just, stop

That’s it 👏

That’s the [y/n] info sesh for the day

He gets the message, doesn’t push it

Giggles and waves at you as he leaves

“Tell me more tomorrow?”

Your silence is… more soothing, than usual

So he goes ahead and interprets that as a resounding YES

😬

“What’s your favorite fruit?”

Zenitsu sits at the end of your cot

He’s totally inched closer and closer to you throughout the week

Initially he’d just stood

Until you’d realized he was determined to continue standing

So you’d clenched your jaw and told him to Just get a chair

His excitement had not been subtle

“Nikkori.”

(Nikkori = type of Japanese pear)

“So big and juicy.” 😋

You glare at him

Hard

—I 💗 innuendos hehehe

“When will you quit bothering me?”

You’re not as harsh anymore

Even you can hear the difference

“When will I be able to address you as [y/n]-chan?” Zenitsu quips, winking boldly

He flicks a switch he didn’t even know existed

Lights out

“Out.”

“Huh?” he’s dismayed, “What did I-” he protests weakly, shriveling rapidly

Why is she suddenly dismissing me?! Look at me… look at meee…

You don’t look at him

If this were a game of stubbornness, then you’d win

But it isn’t a game of anything

“Out.” 😦

Tail tucked between his legs, he gets off your cot

Glances timidly at you

Nothing 😕

There’s nothing on your face even hinting that you might like, want, need him to defy you

He doesn’t

The next time he sees you

In another clearing in another forest ?? Let’s assume it’s sunny ☀️ this time bc you’ve suffered enough

He’s still lost tho

He’s… apprehensive

You’re as pretty as ever

That glow in your eyes? 👌

Your hand painted haori? 👌

How warm your gaze is? 👌

He only wishes it was directed toward him

But he hasn’t figured out how exactly he screwed up 😓

“Zenitsu asked to call her [y/n]-chan?!” — Tanjirou

“IDIOT !!” *insert howling here* “AHAHAHA HE’S GOING TO PERISH ALONE.” — Inosuke

“That was quite forward of Agatsuma-kun!” — Shinobu

“How flashy! A shame it went poorly!” — Tengen

“Aww how adorable! My fingers are crossed for Agatsuma-kun!” — Mitsuri

“Hm.” *insert shrug* “That’s unfortunate.” — Giyuu

“Agatsuma-san.”

…

“Agatsuma-san.”

You startle him from his pity party

Wide eyed, he points at his chest

Me? She’s addressing me?! Meeeee!

Dude: there’s just two ppl in the clearing—you, and them 😐

Poor guy nearly trips moving closer to you

“I’m sorry for discomforting you! I overstepped.”

You’re amused

“I promise to call you [y/n] or [y/n]-san!”

You snort

“I miss answering your questions and you sometimes answering mine,” he sucks in a deep breath, “And I’m glad you’re back to normal!” he freezes, “I mean, you’ve always been normal! But you’re healed now too!”

You laugh quietly

His favorite laugh

“Zenitsu-san.”

—When I tell you his heart flip flops

—It’s doing round off back handspring full twisting doubles 🤸‍♂️

“I owe you an apology.”

He gapes at you

Jaw noticeably dropped

Starts stammering an objection, but you interrupt him

“What was the first question you asked me?”

“How should I address you?” he squeaks

—FYI

—Zenitsu hasn’t forgotten a single second, minute, hour of your time spent together

—Everything about you is #longtermmemoryworthy

“That isn’t an easy question for me,” you smile wryly

“Oh?” he’s confused

“How do you… imagine, me?” 😳 “Not like that.” 😅 “Am I… masculine? Feminine?”

Maaan he’s sweating bullets

How tf is he gonna answer politely ??

“Um,” he swallows, “You’re… pretty?”

Aaand now you’re sweating too

“Thank you, Zenitsu-san. More precisely though… why did you ask to call me [y/n]-chan?”

He’s connecting the dots

“Would you prefer [y/n]-kun?”

You chuckle, “I’d rather [y/n]-san or simply, [y/n].”

The corners of his mouth downturn abruptly

“Zenitsu-san?”

Dread swims in your stomach

Ambient noise ringing dissonant in your ears

I guess I can’t stay pretty forever

Your nervous grasp on your haori tightens

Bracing to depart — bracing to flee

“[y/n],” he chokes out

You refuse to look at him

“[y/n],” he whispers

“I’m ashamed,” he exhales raggedly

“I’m ashamed that I made this… so, difficult. For you.”

You let go of your haori

Dumbfounded

“I’m happy to address you however you’d like. I’m happy to imagine you however is most comfortable. For you.”

He’s… soft

How he looks

How he stands

How he waits

“You’re pretty,” he murmurs, “No matter the weather,” he cups his palms out to you

Sunshine

For them

You mime putting something in your pocket

He laughs

Elated

Exuberant

Enthralled

You laugh

His favorite laugh

Quiet

For him

#zenitsu agatsuma #agatsuma zenitsu #zenitsu x reader #agatsuma x reader #headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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kuroos-moon · 4 years

Text

『The Pretty Third Year』

pairing: Oikawa Toru x Reader

anon request: can i pls hav a scenario where oikawa was practicing his serves and the f!reader was hit by the ball and when he came to her she saw his face and was like: “..god?” or smth like that skdhsj

a/n: ngl kinda got carried away with this one

wc: 1.1k

genre: just some fluff and hinting of future romance bc oikawa’s smitten lmao

warning/s: none

You had no care for the world at all as you stroll towards the almost empty volleyball gym, skeptical about your decision to give being their manager a go.

“You won’t regret it, you’ll see, I bet you’ll get along with our captain,” Kindaichi grins.

“Hm, now that you say it, Oikawa-san and y/n would click, childish minds and all that shit,” Kunimi nods, “up to you though,” followed by a shrug.

Well, their words can’t have come from nowhere, even Kunimi agrees that you’ll love managing the team, and gaining a few more friends isn’t bad either. Poking your head through the doorway, you scan the place, immediately intimidated by the frowning third year by the benches.

In an instant you hide outside, telling yourself that you could maybe make friends elsewhere and that being their volleyball team manager just ain’t for you. Right, you smile to yourself, relieved that you didn’t have to face any scary scowling third years.

“Oy y/n I saw you, just come in!” You kinda want to punch an onion-head right now, but you keep it cool and stop moving, hoping the silence would be enough sign for him to leave you alone.

“Maybe you’re imagining things.” Listen to Kunimi, please.

“Y/n just come in!”

“Fine,” you grumble to yourself, legs begrudgingly carrying you towards the door. The last thing you see is Kindaichi’s horrified expression before you’re knocked to the ground.

For more than a few seconds, everything’s shifting and you couldn’t comprehend what was happening around you, your head hurt and you were beyond dizzy. Just when you’re about to fall to your side— your head no doubt bound to make contact with the wooden floor, a hand supports your head from behind while your back rested on something firm, warm and moist with sweat.

Oh, it’s someone’s thigh.

Your vision’s all blurry with your head pounding too much for you to understand the string of apologies and “are you okay’s” from Oikawa, who guiltily so— was the one to hit you with his infamous nasty serve.

“Iwa-chan is she dead? Oh my god I can’t kill someone!”

“Y/n are you alright?”

“Back off, give her some space, but seriously are you okay? Can I take you to the hospital?” Toru couldn’t hide the worry and panic in his voice as he looked back at your squinted eyes, his calf starting to ache from having to support you with his thigh but he couldn’t care less, no.

Finally, you could see quite better, though you still had to squint your eyes as you looked up at the the third year who held you, the light a tad bit too bright behind his head.

“It’s too bright,” you groan in pain, and you feel his hand brushing strands of hair off your face. “Is it now?” You hear him mutter mindlessly to himself under his breath before he slightly shifts, now blocking the light from your face.

“Better?” He smiles, and when you could now see him clearly, it’s as if your brain and rationality flew out the window. “Pretty,” the word comes out in a genuine and awestruck tone, definitely clear and loud enough for everyone to hear.

Oikawa Toru was indeed the prettiest person your eyes ever landed on your whole life— with his mint green Seijoh shirt, the material sticking to his chest because of his sweat, his handsomely disheveled hair that you could only imagine running your fingers through, and with his lips slightly apart as he breathed through them; chest rising up and down quite heavily, obviously because he’s been practicing too long.

He smells so freaking great, and he was extremely close you’re gravitated to hold him.

What really had you smitten and weak were his eyes though, with the way he looked at you, you could almost pretend he found you as interesting and beautiful as you did him.

You snap out of it the moment you hear Kindaichi’s laughter. Oikawa was clearly surprised at what you had just said—speechless, eyebrows raised, and head cocked to the side in puzzle.

Kunimi snorts from behind his captain, “she’s okay,” he says while trying to stifle his giggle. Oikawa’s caught in a dilemma, should he flirt and get carried away with the admiring look in your eyes or should he check on your condition first?

The latter, he tells himself.

“Y/n-chan, was it? You okay? Does your head hurt?” He calmly asks you as he helps you completely sit up without having to lean on him.

Toru being afraid you’ll collapse or get dizzy again, was still sitting at the balls of his feet, his thigh just behind your back and his hand unconsciously massaging your head. This doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone, of course— what a shocker, the Great Oikawa was genuinely this concerned even though you’re evidently okay now?

“Here,” he offers his hand, helping you stand up, the both of you failing to fight the fuzzy feeling in your chests at the contact. You may look like you were still battling the dizziness in your head but in reality, you were cringing so bad now that you’ve realized what you had just said.

“Thanks, Oikawa-senpai,” you shyly mutter, your idiot friends giggling at your exchange. For obvious reasons, you can’t bring yourself to look up at Oikawa, “I’m really sorry y/n-chan, you appeared out of nowhere, you could hit me back if you like, though Iwa-chan already hit me hard too, wait, no, the point is, I’m really really sorry,” he brings his hands together as he slightly bows his head.

“It’s fine, please don’t worry about it,” you try to reassure him, instinctively grabbing his hands to have him retrieve himself from that position and at the same time planning your escape. “Uh, it’s late, I have to go,” you awkwardly say when he looks at you, and your eyes meet even if it’s just for a mere second before you looked away again.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, eyes darting to his hands which you’ve held just seconds ago— he doesn’t want you to go yet.

“Yes, uh, goodnight, and uhm well, take care,” you flush, cringing at every word that came out of your mouth. Take care? Wow, you sound so stupid.

Before he could say something back, you’ve rushed out of the gym, his heart ultimately deflating after seeing you go. With a sigh, he turns on his heels to get back to practicing his serves— he can’t help it, there’s nothing he could do to see you nor does he have any reason to talk to you again.

Little did he know you sat right outside the gym, on the first step of the staircase, with your hand on your chest at an attempt to calm down your erratic heartbeat. The image of his smile, his eyes, his face— breathtaking. His voice was velvet and his supposedly platonic touches were so immaculate for you that you still feel the tingles and the warmth despite being out there in the cold.

Your friends were right, you’d love to manage their team.

or maybe you’ll love him, an involuntary voice from your subconscious makes you grow flustered all over again.

“That sucked,” Iwaizumi comments just to piss him off more, referring to his 27th failed attempt at a decent serve. Oikawa groans, running his hands through his hair in frustration, “how annoying!”

“Oikawa-san, you’ll see her again, you know,” Kunimi nonchalantly says without looking up as he scrolls through his phone, aware of how he’s got his captain’s attention in an instant.

“What? What do you mean? I wouldn’t care less if I don’t Kunimi-kun,” he tries to brush it off, though he was beyond curious— when and how could he look back at those pretty e/c eyes of yours and hear you call him pretty again?

“Y/n L/n, Seijoh first year, class 1-2,” he says with an eye roll. Oikawa grins— so you went to his school too, now there’s nothing to be down about anymore. Maybe he’ll accidentally cross paths with you in the halls and maybe he’ll accidentally strike up a conversation too.

“So you guys are friends?” He asks, the subtle smile on his face never shaken off. “I guess, and just so you know, she came here because we asked her to try being our manager.”

“Our manager?” He smirks, spinning the ball in his hands now with oozing confidence and ease, “even better,” he chuckles before tossing the ball in the air, and with full force sending it across the net, successfully hitting the floor with precision, speed and power.

“Someone’s fired up,” Iwaizumi says with an eye roll, but his comment was ignored as Toru happily hums to himself, picking up another ball from the ground

“Can’t wait to know you, y/n l/n.”

General Taglist: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @sunshine-hina @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss

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#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! scenarios #oikawa tohru #haikyuu!! oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa toru x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu onseshots #haikyuu!! oneshots #haikyuu!! fluff #oikawa fluff

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marc-spectorr · 2 years

Note

Hi Callie

So…. I’ve just recently applied for financial aid and also will be applying to get my cert for medical coding this fall. It’s a year program but I’m SOOOO freaking nervous and scared to do this.

I know I need to do something with my life as I’m not happy with what I’m doing now and especially don’t want to go back to factory (no offense to those who do….they are very strong people to do that sort of work! It’s just not for me.) I’ve just recently been made fun of without knowing at a factory I worked at part time …. Until someone told me about it a handful of weeks ago. He was a nice guy. He found out the group of people I work with took pics of me while working and were making fun of me. That absolutely shattered me to pieces.

From there though I started thinking about getting into school and all so I thought I’d talk to my mom about it and she thought it was great until I brought up that I was interested in what she was doing- which is Medical coding and all that- her demeanor sort of changed in sense to where she sort of just made me feel like she doesn’t think I can do it. I already am extremely insecure and hate myself like A LOT bc I’ve always been bullied and told that I should get smarter and lose weight ever since I could comprehend words and speak.

Anywho one day we somehow got to talking about it again and I sort of jokingly said “we shall see what I can get done with my two brain cells” she laughed and replied “yeah really”

Then I had a more serious conversation with her as I was applying for it I expressed how I was just feeling and also feel scared….and just feel dumb (bc honestly I do feel that way. I’m not the brightest nor do I catch on quickly but eventually I do. I show up and do the best I can to any I’ve ever had.) so her response was “oh whatever. You can just try I guess….you can’t lose anything else. Who knows maybe you’ll surprise us both” 😕

I’m not exactly sure why I’m even boring you with this. I guess I’d just like to have my cry and just get it out and I feel most safe to tell you. I just wish sometimes that I wasn’t born or for once could be normal and taken seriously and someone for actually believe in me ya know?

heyyy sweet nonnie!

to start off, it means a lot that you feel safe and comfortable enough to share this with me. i sound like a broken record at this point, but i care about each and every one of you. even if i'm only some random stranger on the internet, i will always be that person you can to talk to, just to get things off their chest. i know what it's like feeling alone and thinking no one's there to listen, but i’m here, and i hear you.

i’m so sorry that your coworkers have been awful behind your back. nobody deserves to be made fun of. there’s no excuse for it, and i wish there was a way that i’m able to be there to stand up for you. i never take those things lightly, and they are just horrible for doing that. please don’t let their words and actions get to you. you’re much better than them and stronger than they will ever realize.

the same goes for your mother. you’re worth more than what she tells you. i don’t understand how as a parent, she doesn’t show any support to your dreams and aspirations. it breaks my heart that she’s this way and makes you feel like you won’t make it in the field. trust me when i say this— you will be successful. putting yourself to school is already a wonderful start. even though you’re nervous, you will succeed and do amazingly well in the future. in life, you’re going to encounter many hurdles, people and things that will set you back. but i believe that you’ll be able to overcome these challenges. i believe that you can do this.

i believe in you.

once you’re in the program, let me know all about it! i would love to hear about how the class is going, your professors, and the things you’re learning. i actually have experience with medical billing and coding through my job (not officially certified tho), but i will gladly help you out if i can :) don’t worry— you’ll always have me to support you and cheer you on. i’m so proud of you for doing your best and wanting to become better.

love you and take care 💖

#i always say this but i will say it again #you are loved #you are beautiful #you are smart #you are worthy #you are not alone #asks #anon

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icharchivist · 3 years

Note

first: WAHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭 I got so emotional!!! so emotional!!!! so much that I can’t even do this first second pattern bc I have SO MANY thoughts!!!!!!! I’m writing this in my notes instead of straight into the askbox so u know it’s serious business™

ok so debut night!!! I was like ahah yeah it’s a tragedy whatever it’ll be fun to start out with and then the voice acting was SO good that it knocked me out of the park and I almost cried haha. it’s crazy how good the voice acting in a3 is like I love how the dialogue and voice acting works well together bc like it’s limited but so effective!! u can so very clearly see and understand the style they’re going for. especially like tsumugi’s death scene... the Talent jumped out it really did... uh and ok so. I think I may be a littleeee confused abt the play bc I had always interpreted tasukus last lines as raphael to be like abt his being secretly in love with michael. but now that I’m actually reading the line that’s like oh don’t fall for a human it only ends in misery I know that all too well or whatever... ig the implication is that raphael was in love with another human / the same lady michael was in love with in the play. side note I had to go back and edit the proper names in instead of tasuku and tsumugi lol... but speaking of!! speaking of the voice acting and the play itself I 1) love how blatantly obvious it is when tsumugi goes for that grander, tasuku like style of delivery!! like u could just so easily feel the difference it was wild... and 2) tsuzuru is once again spot on with his writing, lol... I felt that like raphaels inability to save or help michael really parallels how tasuku feels abt tsumugi so well, and it’s wonderful that they r able to resolve things and tasuku can properly compliment him on his acting where the angels fail to do so. it’s very good. and I think the play rly highlights (for me at least) that like. to tasuku, it was tsumugi who was sort of an unreachable existence. like were he to idolize and respect someone’s acting, it would be tsumugi. and I think that like caring carries over into their roles really well, because I think in michael’s love for a human tasuku sees like... tsumugi’s style of acting. the heart that he’d lost while within the god troupe. mb I’m losing my mind a little but ah. the play rly works with their relationship so well!! im very excited to see the other winter ppl get main roles tho—same for all the troupes!!! now this ask is too long so I’ll have to do another part lol

going to start off this second part of the ask abt hisoka bc oh my GOD. hisoka. like I was just thinking “hm where r the winter troupe cgs anyways” and then BAM. hisoka CRYING???? especially since he doesn’t seem that emotional it was a really hard hit!!! and who tf is august.... ok well actually theory time!! skipping ahead to the end theres that note that like mentions December and April and. not to expose my friend but very many years ago (a couple years before a3 was launched, at the very least) she wrote this story where there were like 12 orphan assassins and they were all named after months. I remember the main dude was named dec lol. coupled with my “hisoka is capable of murder” bit? listen.... I’m not saying anything but I’m also not not saying anything if u feel me. also I feel like assassin / thief with mysterious background is a common trope!! that was silver from the pokémon adventures manga too... why is this my reference point lmao. anyways I’m unclear if assassins would make it into a3 but like.... if the yakuza and supernatural stuff makes it in...

okay moving away from conspiracy theories and into emotions!!! the quotes from like EVERY mankai actor before the final production made me SO emo... and yay!!! they won!!!! (though admittedly I almost had a heart attack when no one clapped) but they won!!!! that ending cg!!!! and I adore how sakyo immediately goes after god troupe man (I know his name is reni I just don’t feel like calling him that) for the money lol it’s just so sakyo-like. also I love the lil mixed troupe interactions!! I found the game night ch so fun.... ahh, now I wanna reread that ch since it was so good lol

all in all I was super satisfied ahh!! I am SO excited to start up spring troupe again (HELLO character development!!! and chikage) and I’m even MORE excited to get thru all the act 1 events!!!! as a final note, is there any way to reread or replay the flair conversations? I didn’t want any spoilers for the plays while I was doing the practices for them so I kinda sped thru the first time ahah...

HELLO FRIEND IM SO HAPPY TO GET SUCH A LENGHTY ASK ABOUT WINTER IM LKDJFLKDJFLKFD Winter makes me feel shrimps emotions (i know the whole “shrimps can see more colors than humans can’t comprehend” thing has been disproved but i’m not letting go of that expression, i REALLY feel emotions humans can’t comprehend anymore and i’m going to make it everyone else’s problem)

1) First about the voice acting, rIGHT this is just so fascinating to me!!! I remember after act 2 i came back to reread the main act 1 chapter and i was so thrown out by how GOOD the voice acting was, especially for the first few troupes having to convince you they’re not comfortable or good at acting yet. Winter whole thing is that they’re more subtle and mature and you really feel that with their voice acting, Tsumugi’s voice especially knock it off the park anytime he’s on screen.

2) Second: what does it say about me that i’ve never, ever considered your reading a possibility because i was so set on “oh Raphael you’re in love with Michael sooooo bad you see it as a tragedy already because you can see him throw his life away” i didn’t even consider “maybe Raphael went through that too”. Though i guess if we’re going with that reading i can totally see “The Woman” they let themselves consumed by easily be a representation of acting or even more the God Troupe, with Raphael/Tasuku knowing to step away before it consumes him completely while Michael/Tsumugi, by his love and passion, pushed himself until he broke, which fits and it hurtsssss god Winter plays hits so hard.

3) Third: oh god yeah when Tsumugi goes for Tasuku’s acting it’s just. It makes me SO uncomfortable, i’ve experienced this scene like three times by now and the third time i was just “can i skip it i can’t go through this again i can’t Tsumugi i love you i can’t do this”. It doesn’t match the play at all and it just throws everyone off balance, and Tsumu you could have told theM YOU WANTED TO DO THAT.... god

4) Fourth: I LOVE YOUR READING SO MUCH I LOVE IT I LOVE IT YES YOU’RE RIGHT!!! Just as we follow Tsumugi let his passion consumes him until he breaks, Tasuku’s character arc really jumps out in Raphael, like, everything you say!!! The way Tasuku/Raphael knew how the feelings Tsumugi/Michael felt would hurt him on the long run but he didn’t know what to do about it until it was too late, the regrets and the way Raphael voices his frustrations.... Tasuku struggles to be honest without acting (Tasuku pls i love you) but having such a role really help him expressing all he feels about Tsumugi and i’m HHHH this is so good so so good!!! but yeah i also love that Tasuku finally manages to actually compliment Tsumugi naturally, that he understands he can’t let him destroys himself again and it’s just gnhhhhh Tasuku is so kind and considerate and i care about him so much....!!!

5) Fifth: “i’m losing my mind a little” winter mood, winter mood winter mood- (though every troupe’s mood tbh but Winter is gnhhhhh kdhd hdhjf??? you feel me) (i am BIASED i can’t help it TwT) but yeaH i’m looking forward to see how you react to the others plays because the roller coaster juST BEGUN!!!

Onto part 2... Winter Troupe Chapter Feels... 2!

6) Sixth: DLFJDFKLDF HISOKAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHH. Hisoka crying fucked me up so bad!! so so bad!! Like on my first read i didn’t know what to think of him as he starts out very apathic to his troupe and then the more it goes on the more you can feel he starts to open up and i’m soft for this sort of slow burn, but then this whole scene happened and it HIT ME IN THE FACE, he was crying, i was crying, we were all crying, the Unopening Door opened a flood of emotions i can’t cope with. He sounds SO VULNERABLE during that scene and i know all of the Winter Troupe united on “taking care of him” but that’s really the moment i went “i care you and i will keep taking care of you” and look at me now. Thanks funky little scene for ruining my life. I’m glad you liked it i’m aldhjflkjdfkd Hisokaaaaa.....

7) Seventh: I am not commenting on the theory but 👀 that’s so highly specific your friend has a galaxy brain i love it. and i love the idea of “well we have yakuza and supernatural entity what’s an assassin adding himself to it” dLKFJDLKF i know everyone in Mankai calls Izumi out everytime someone joins but that’d be peak. I’m not going further about what December and August and April are all about but i love this plotline sO much, the few mentions of August when Hisoka regained his memories for a minute still haunts me, the guilt he seems to feel and this pain i’m just... godddd such a good set up. I love this plotline.

8) Eigth: EMOTIONS!! Oh GOD YEAH THE ENDING WITH ALL THE OTHER ACTORS... I cried so hard it’s just. It really shows you it’s not just the culmination of the Winter chapter but of all the act 1 main plot and it really makes you feel how much of a journey you’ve been onto!! A3 is so good at showing you the growth of its characters that especially by the end of Winter you really saw how all of them grew in their respective chapters and how cozy they felt in their new home in the remaining chapters, and the fact this chap has those defining character arc’s lines really drive home “oh my god that was a journey” i love them sO MUCH....

9) Ninth: wE WOOOON!!! They’re all so good i just. i’m gonna cry just thinking about it dlfdjlfk i know like, the game has so many content so you know it can’t end at the end of Winter but the suspense really was there. BUT YEAH LMAO I LOVE SAKYO DOING THAT IMMEDIATLY, man sure has the eyes on the prize and we love him for that. AND THE GAME NIGHT SCENE they are all sO CUTE and sWEET and they’re a family now and i’m hHHHHH i love a3 a normal healthy amount that isn’t just making me cry thinking about how all of them grew so close even through mixed troupes.

10) Tenth: I am SO happy you were satisfied with the plot so far!! I’m genuinely so happy that you decided to take that journey with us and that you shared all of this with me, and i’m so so happy you liked it!! There is still so much content and all of it is so worth it!

11) Eleventh: Yes!! The flair conversations are all readable on the Mini-Chat tab! So they’re easily accessible and they’re sorted in a way that’s easy to read so you can feel comfortable skipping the flairs if you want until you have seen the stories the flairs are all about. They’re all kinda set during the rehearsals (except for some crosstroupe conversation that wouldn’t make sense if they were like how the Summer Troupe talks with the Spring Troupe in their Flairs DKLFJDF but it’s okay what is a timeline anyway) so some of them are set pre-development and it’s wild to get back to them. I love rereading Flairs i get emotional everytime.

ANND That’s it for this ask! i had a blast reading through your thoughts and i’m so happy and excited!! i’ll send you the drive now so you can start digging through it whenever you feel like it :3c good luck grinding for act 2, meanwhile i hope you’ll have fun with all the act 1 events i compiled for you!!

(side note i need to update the drive too but it’s mostly act 2 content anyway, the only two act 1 things i need to update on it is Sakuya’s birthday card i think?? i think Itaru’s is already in act 2 so i’ll try to get around to it eventually but it’s so far away anyway) (edit: i forgot that the three cards i got for the latest revival are from act 1 DLKJFD okay so i’m missing three cards -)

The drive has backstages and event stories and it may be a lot and overwhelming ahah. Focus on the event stories for the plot and go back to the backstages whenever you feel like it, no need to read them at the same time, unless you want to in which case everything is set up for you :3c and there’s a file with cards that aren’t associated to events too so... lots of goodies hanging around. I’ll send it to you in DM ;O

Take care and thank you so much for all your thoughts! my inbox remains wide opened for any others thoughts you may have as you go further into it :3c

#ichafantalks a3 #i love the winter troupe SO MUCH it's unreal this ask made me cry i was just LDKJFDLK WINTER!!!!!!!#i love your thoughts so much thank you for all of it <33 #sonnets-of-beauty #ichareply #long post for ts

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swlbarnes · 5 years

Text

Soul - Jack Kline x Reader

Summary: Castiel always insists that it is impossible for humans to perceive the physical form of a soul. After spending time with Jack, you swear Cas is wrong.

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader, Father figure!Castiel x Reader

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: canon typical violence, light torture, some slight angst, fluff, danger to reader, danger to characters, blood, fatherly castiel (is that a warning? idk), basically there’s some good stuff and some bad stuff, but overall it’s fluff! slight canon divergence, vague early season 14 spoiler, but the main Jack plot in season 14 doesn’t apply here

A/N: I had this idea like FOREVER ago bc of that shot of jack asleep in the back of the impala (gif below), and i just got around to writing it bc school is garbage (pls stay in school). Hope it’s alright! Feedback is always greatly appreciated!

gif creator here, give them love!

Soul /sōl/ noun - the immaterial essence, animating principle, or actuating cause of an individual life.

You often found yourself asking Castiel the most random of questions about the universe. What was the beginning of the world like? What did the Bible completely get wrong? How have things changed over time in Heaven? Who thought the platypus was a good idea?

Most of all, though, your questions seemed to focus on one thing: souls. You were absolutely enamored by the subject. Something about them felt so incredibly intriguing, and after having seen the change in Sam Winchester when he happened to lose his soul, you wanted all the information you could get. Having an angel friend to answer your questions was exactly what you needed.

“Cas,” you spoke his name softly, intent on not destroying the peacefully quiet nature of the bunker’s library at 4 o’clock in the morning. The pair of you were up researching for a hunt after you found yourself unable to fall asleep. You insisted that instead of having Cas use his grace to help you sleep, that you could use your time to get some work done. The seraph reluctantly agreed.

“Yes?” He hummed in acknowledgement. His eyes lifted from his book in front of him just slightly to meet your gaze.

“What does a soul look like?”

Castiel let out a quiet chuckle, leaning back in his seat and pushing the book away just enough to show that you had his attention. A small smile quirked at the corners of his mouth at the question. This was far from your first time asking it. You questioned him relentlessly about every topic you could think of, but no matter what, you always came back around to the same question. What does a soul really look like?

And every time he gave the same answer: “They look like light.”

Sometimes you took this at face value, just glad to hear him say it again, but sometimes, like this particular night, you needed to hear more. You gave him a nod of encouragement, urging him to continue speaking. He took in a breath and cast his eyes over the room momentarily. His hands clasped together in his lap, and the small, relaxed smile remained on his face. He loved answering your questions and you could tell. There was always a childlike excitement to you when he would offer you a new piece of information. You would take his words and hold them close to you, eager to commit them to memory. You knew secrets of the universe that other people could never even dream of knowing. It felt nice to take you under his literal and metaphorical wing to teach you the things you wanted to know.

“Souls tend to shine differently depending on the person. You can tell so much about someone based on their soul alone. This is why demons are so easy to spot: their souls are so twisted that they become something so much different than the purity of a human soul,” he elaborated, his eyes trailing over the swirls of the wood grain on the table top.

You leaned forward slightly. “But surely not all human souls are so… pure,” you pointed out. He nodded.

“You’re correct. Many human souls find themselves being twisted in their life on earth as well, but never to the extent of a demon’s, of course.”

“But demons manifest themselves as black smoke. So, does that mean that the purity of a soul is based on how bright it is?” You continued to pester. You trailed your nails along the edge of the table subconsciously.

Castiel shook his head side to side. “No, not at all. It’s less of it being one rule for all and more of just a… feeling. Much like you are often able to tell the intentions of a fellow human with a glance, souls are much the same. Some souls are dim, but that does not mean that they aren’t beautifully pure,” he informed you. His voice remained level and patient, as it always did when you started a line of questions. You smiled at his tone. You were always grateful for the care he took in these situations. He never made you feel bad for your questions or your lack of knowledge, something you wished that your old school teachers had taken lessons in.

Your gaze travelled down to the pages of the lore book still open in front of you. The old weathered paper was yellowed and tattered with time. The top right corner of the page you were on was creased from someone who knows how long ago that dog-eared their spot in the text. You fought the urge to grimace at the foul treatment given to the book and focused instead on posing your next question. “What does… my soul look like?”

This was another familiar question, but still, Cas humored you. He trailed his eyes over your face with a thoughtful expression before he opened his mouth to reply. “Your soul is… complex. It shines bright, and has a slight, dare I say, twinkle to it. Like a star.” He paused to cast you a proud, fatherly smile. “You’re the team’s North Star, forever helping to guide us home.”

You cast your eyes downward, hoping the way your hair came down around your face was enough to hide your reddened cheeks and meek smile. You reached a hand up to trail a finger along the edges of your book. The worn leather of the binding was soft beneath your fingertips, and the scent of old pages wafted around you like a blanket in the serenity of the library. “I wish I could see souls,” you commented in passing, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

Cas was quick to recognize the wobble of your form and the half closed position of your heavy eyelids. He stood from his seat and made his way around the table, placing a hand on your shoulder and coaxing you upright. “Humans can’t see souls, and I promise that if there was a way for you to do so, you would be the first person I would tell.” With that, he led you down the maze-like halls of the bunker and into your bed. He brought the covers up to your chin, giving a light chuckle as he heard your soft snores before he was even able to shut the door behind him.

A year or so had passed since that night. Things finally settled down, and for once you could feel at peace. The bunker now consisted of the two Winchester boys, your fallen angel mentor, an ex-trickster archangel, and the son of Lucifer himself. Things were… good. There was just one thing…

Castiel had lied to you.

He had told you that humans could not see souls. That humans were incapable of comprehending the visual aspects of a soul. And you swear to every higher power you know, he lied to you. He must have. It was the only explanation.

These thoughts paraded around your mind, your brain’s mess of emotions a swift contrast to the atmosphere of the Impala you were sat in the back seat therein. Your eyes fixated on the nephilim sat by your side. Jack’s body leaned limp against the car door, his hand placed with his palm against the window to act as a barrier between his cheek and the icy glass. The sun was setting just on the other side of his window. The sky was streaked with endless shades of pinks, yellows, and oranges, spreading out in wisps that curled lazily around the surrounding landscape. Your ears were filled with the soft guitar riff of Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin cassette. The scent surrounding you was that of old leather, whiskey, gun powder, and a swirling mixture of both Sam and Dean’s favorite colognes - in other words, it smelled like home.

You fixed your attention on Jack’s form. Your gaze swept over him, taking in every detail you possibly could. You noticed the way the tips of his fingers twitched in his dreaming state. You noticed the slight part of his lips as he let out soft, even breaths. You noticed each little freckle that dotted his skin. You noticed the way that his favorite red jacket was tugged up to tuck into his neck, as you knew he loved how the fluffy fabric felt comforting against his skin. You noticed it all.

Most of all, you noticed the way the light of the sunset behind him framed his form. The remaining rays trickled in through the car window, casting a gentle glow around his silhouette. The orange tendrils of light curled along his hair and tinted his dark brown curls a lighter, more fiery blonde color. The slant of his cheekbones was far more distinct in this lighting. The shadows of his face were dark and impressive, but somehow his features maintained his tender nature. In fact, you swore you could make out the shape of a halo at the crown of his hair. Everything about him and the way the sunset curved around him felt so celestial, so strong. Yet still he retained an air of care and love about him. He just looked so… Jack. And it was incredible.

“What do you mean you’re scared of the dark?” Dean asked in a teasing tone. An annoyed scowl formed in your lips and your arms wound around your own torso as you sought out as much comfort as you could get.

“Oh, shove it Winchester. We’re all scared of something. You wouldn’t be so cocky if we were in an airplane right now,” you shot back. You tried your best to hide the shake in the back of your throat, but you knew by the eldest brother’s deep chuckle that you hadn’t done as well as you had hoped.

“That’s because a plane crash will kill ya, and you just have to go down without a fight. Seriously, you’re a hunter, how are you afraid of the dark?”

You shuffled around from your place in one of the plush couches of the library. The darkness surrounding you curled its claws around your neck and began to squeeze, but you just shook your head in an attempt to fight it off. “I know what’s in the dark. I think we have more reason to hate the dark than anyone else does,” you insisted. You could practically see the stupid smirk on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to punch it right off.

Your knees tugged themselves up against your chest so you could wind your arms around them. Gazing into the endless darkness was unsettling no matter what, but to make things worse, you didn’t know what was really in the bunker. The last time something got out, the Wicked Witch tried to destroy Oz, and you weren’t too keen on fighting both your fear of the dark and another old fairy tale on the same day. Nope. Definitely not. You were much more comfortable sitting right where you were on the couch with your back pressed against the wall and your feet up off the ground so nothing could grab you from somewhere in the emptiness.

The sounds of shuffling coming from the winding corridors caused you to jump in fright. “Wh-who’s there?” You stuttered out, turning your head from one side to the other as if you could see who - or what - was making their way over to you.

Around the corner, the flame of a lit candle made itself visible, the light it emitted casting a soft golden glow over the surrounding few feet. “Dean? (Y/N)?” The soft, familiar voice of the nephilim called as he rounded the corner, candle in hand. Your heart jumped at the sight.

“Jack!” You cried out gratefully. You instantly flung yourself off of the couch, the balls of your feet barely hitting the floor with each step before you leaped forward again, all the way up until you made it to the man. You ducked underneath the candle and wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging him close to you in search of comfort.

The air in his lungs was exhaled with a huff upon impact. He raised the candle above his head to ensure the flame wouldn’t catch on your hair or clothing before he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders in a comforting - yet confused - manner. “Are you alright?” Jack asked with an edge of worry in his tone. You nodded against his chest.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Just… don’t like the dark. And Dean is mean to me.” Your accusation brought forth a cry of offense from Dean, which in turn caused you to chuckle into the material of Jack’s shirt, which you were still clinging to as if your life depended on it. Jack looked up to Dean in an ever-so-serious accusatory manner.

“Sam is working on getting the power back on still. He said he’s almost got it, but I should come check on you in case you were worried,” the nephilim explained, turning his gaze to you once again. You cast him a small smile and took a step back.

You coughed to clear your throat from the awkward silence that followed, much to Dean’s amusement. He indicated this with a rather unflattering snort that you would have demolished him for in other circumstances. Instead of tearing into the older hunter, you peered upwards at the man in front of you. “Well, thank you for coming to make sure we were alright. I don’t know how much more of Dean’s teasing I can take, especially when it’s too dark for me to even take a swing at him.”

A smile bloomed on Jack’s lips, and your expression brightened to match. He lowered the candle again, now that you were a safe distance away. You instantly found yourself mesmerized by the way the shadows shifted across his skin, accentuating the hills and valleys of his face in different ways based on where the flame sat.

The soft orange glow flickered in his irises. The light was just bright enough to illuminate his face, chest, and shoulders, but the rest of his body seemed to fade into the darkness all around you. A few strands of chestnut hair were still visible, and the light brought forth more details of his natural highlights than you had previously noticed. Overall, he looked warm and safe, and you found yourself shuffling to remain close to him with each movement. You would later insist to Dean that this behavior was a result of you wishing to remain close to the light, but deep down you knew what the true source of your comfort really was.

“They’ll never find you, y’know,” the young janitor insisted as he strolled leisurely around the empty space. Well, to be fair, this wasn’t really the janitor. The real man was likely off in some remote location with a slit throat like all the other poor vics you had come across in the coroner’s office on this particular case. No, this man was the shapeshifter you and the team had been hunting for the past week.

You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten caught. Your plan was foolproof, at least it was all the way up until it wasn’t. Perhaps it really was never the best idea for the whole team to split up and have each of you going off on your own, but there were simply too many possible hotspots the shifter could have shown up to and not enough hunters to adequately cover them all. You were all hoping to figure out who the latest face claim was tonight, and had no intentions of moving in on the creature. Apparently it had far different plans.

All you could remember was an ear ringing thud against the back of your head before you woke up tied against one of the rickety support beams in an old abandoned warehouse close by where you had been conducting your personal search mission. An hour and a half had already passed, and you found yourself running low on snarky quips to fire back. The backhanded commentary about the cliched locale ran out of steam about thirty minutes ago, and he really wasn’t giving you much else to work off of.

This had clearly worn you down, and you wanted nothing more than to get back to the motel room, shower off the blood and dirt clinging to your skin, and collapse into bed. Of course, your idiotic friends would have to actually find you and save you before that could happen.

“If you were really that confident in them not finding me, then you wouldn’t feel the need to constantly remind me how hopeless it is,” you pointed out, shrugging nonchalantly. “But, whatever, that’s just psychology or whatever. I’m sure the world renowned Winchesters will be completely fooled by you, some random back alley shifter with a thing for the dramatics.”

The noise that ripped from the man’s throat could only be described as a growl; it was a bit too human to be an animal, but just animalistic enough to not feel human either. All in all, it was utterly unsettling, and you found your feet shuffling around in discomfort. “Shut up,” he snarled. His lip curled upwards to bare his teeth, an act that seemed out of place when the pearly whites being revealed were the dull, omnivorous ones of a human being. You quirked a brow in question.

The shifter twirled the knife in his hand as he made his way over to where you stood. The cool metal of the blade was chilling against the skin of your neck, and you pressed your back into the wooden beam behind you in an attempt to retreat from his threat. “For someone about to die, you sure do talk a lot,” he hissed. You winced against the scent of tobacco and cheap liquor clinging to his breath.

“Well,” you muttered, mustering a smirk despite yourself. “For an evil mastermind who wants to kill me, you sure are taking your precious time.” Perhaps goading a mentally unstable form changing monster into killing you wasn’t the best course of action, but it was the only comeback your brain could think of as you felt the kiss of his knife against your bared throat.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m just letting you simmer for a while,” the shifter hummed. He raised the knife to brush a lock of hair from your eyes before trailing it down the side of your face. Your fists clenched from their place tied behind your back. “That fear in your eyes, the fear you’re trying to hide from me, it’s… thrilling. You act so high and mighty, you act like you’re the one in control here, but all it would take is one… little…” The knife in his hand trailed down the column of your throat and paused just over your heart, where he pressed down the flat of the blade just enough that the edges dug into your skin. “Slip.” On that word, he flicked his wrist, drawing a line of scarlet blood along your chest. You hissed out in pain.

“Oh, screw you, man,” you muttered through clenched teeth. He gave a dark chuckle and ran his knife through the stream of blood trickling down your skin.

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a bang sounded from behind him. “Jack, wait!” Sam Winchester’s gruff voice called. The old, dilapidated door of the warehouse opened and slammed against the wall, revealing the young nephilim’s fuming form in the doorway.

“Jack!” You cried out in desperation. His gaze flickered over you momentarily, scanning your injuries and growing darker and darker with each new one he found. At the sight of the knife still being held against your chest, Jack’s eyes went alight.

“Stop!” He shouted, throwing his hand out in front of him and sending golden beams of his grace towards your attacker, who went flying far from gracefully across the empty room. His body slammed into one of the support beams, causing the wood to crack and splinter.

Sam and Dean came barreling into the warehouse after Jack, guns and knives at the ready. Sam wasted no time before rushing towards you, slicing through the rope around your wrists with his blade and catching you in his arms when your legs collapsed beneath you. You sighed and settled into his grasp, turning your eyes to Jack’s squared shoulders as he made his way to the crumpled form of the shifter.

Dean stepped forward to help the nephilim, but with a wave of Sam’s hand, he held his place and watched from afar instead. Jack’s entire body seemed to glow with his grace, his eyes a brilliantly bright gold unlike anything you had ever seen from the man. His jaw was set in determination as he reached a hand down and gripped the shifter’s shirt collar. He dragged the struggling man a few feet to the wall, where he slammed him against the ramshackled wooden planks.

“You should never have touched them,” he spat menacingly. Golden irises swept over the shifter’s body in disgust. The veins in Jack’s arm took up his signature glow as well, the light travelling up to his hand, where it seemed to sizzle against the shifter’s skin. An ear splitting cry ripped from the man’s throat, his legs thrashing wildly in an attempt to escape, but Jack made no move to let go. He simply tightened his grip and continued on. The shadow of two large wings spanned out along the wall, each wing easily seeming to be at least twice as large as Jack himself. They flared out in a way one could only describe as threatening, and for the first time in your life, you could understand the fear others seemed to have when they spoke of Jack Kline. The golden glow emanating from his being sent the hairs along your arms and at the back of your neck standing on end. Never had you seen Jack so… frightening. You tended to spend most of your time around the man cooing over his soft spoken nature and kind smiles. Seeing the full extent of the nephilim’s powers felt like being thrown into a bath of ice water. This truly was a being of immense strength and unimaginable power, and that fact was being thrown in your face quite suddenly.

“Jack!” You called out, voice wavering slightly in fright of the sight of such a cool and collected man in a state like this. He froze at the sound of your voice and turned his eyes to you. His grip loosened ever so slightly and his face fell as he realized what was wrong. He blinked away what he could of his anger and shifted his hand to the man’s forehead, sending one last blast of his grace to smite the shifter on the spot. The body crumpled to the floor, burnt out eyes gazing into nothing.

Jack turned on his heel and made it over to you in a few long strides. His hands reached out and he took you from Sam without a second thought. The golden glow in Jack’s eyes still had not disappeared entirely as he scanned over your injuries. His brow furrowed in unease at the sight of the various bruises and cuts marring your skin. Slowly, he raised a hand up to your cheek and pressed his palm against you. His grace flooded over your body, surrounding you in a warmth and comfort that felt so utterly Jack. Your injuries burned briefly as the grace touched them, but the discomfort was gone as quickly as it came.

At some point during the exchange, it seemed that your eyes had closed on their own volition. You allowed them to open once more, and they locked on to the fading light surrounding Jack’s pupils. Neither of you said a word, you just pulled him towards you and buried your face in his chest.

You tugged your jacket closer to your body against the chill of the late night winds. The tell tale splash of yet another rock being tossed incorrectly into the lake could be heard clearly as it echoed through the trees. A chuckle escaped your lips, an the nephilim by the shoreline pouted in response.

“I just don’t get it!” He complained, hanging his head low as he shuffled over to you. Your smile practically split your face at this point.

“Jack, it’s all about the technique. Plus, you have to get the right kind of rock. Make sure the rock is flat. Like…” Your eyes scanned over the rocks all around your feet until you found one that suited your needs. “This one!” You plucked it out of the mess and held it up to Jack for him to inspect. He turned it over in his fingers, brushing over the rock’s surface and giving an understanding nod.

“Okay,” he hummed in acknowledgement. “What next?”

You reached down and grabbed another similar rock that would suit your needs before standing upright once more. “Next, you want to crouch down a little, get yourself closer to the surface of the water, you know?” You do so as you speak, and Jack slowly moves to follow. “Turn to the side…” He shuffled so his side is facing the water. “Now, from here, you need to throw the rock as close to matching the surface of the water as you can, throw it kinda sideways, and flick your wrist.” With a quick flick of your wrist, the rock skids over the water and hops one, two, three times before it finally drops beneath the surface entirely.

You stood to your full height and turned around to face Jack, who had his arm wound back in preparation and a look of utter determination in his eyes. A small smile graced your lips at the sight. The light of the full moon illuminated his features in a soft, innocent glow. This setting felt so much different from the usual yellow tinted bulbs back in the bunker. The natural white light conveyed a sense of purity you had yet to see of him, but once it has been seen, the image will surely never leave you. His hair was pushed back to ensure there would be no distractions during such an important moment. Your gaze followed his arm as he flicked his wrist forward, sending the rock hurtling along the water. The ripples of the stone against the surface distorted his reflection, and you felt a small sense of pride when you saw how it bounced up and hit the water again with a splash.

“I did it!” He cried in victory, jumping up with a look of sheer joy.

You smiled back and nodded, trying your best to match his excitement. This proved to be an easy task, as anything pertaining to Jack and his happiness brought you joy. “You did! That was great, Jack!” You praised. He took a step towards you and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a grateful embrace. Just like that day in the warehouse, you found yourself easing into his arms without a second thought. You slumped against him and pressed your face into his neck, glad to simply bathe in his presence and nothing more. The light of the moon cascaded down upon the pair of you, casting a line of white over the surface of the water. You trailed your eyes down the path of moonlight until your gaze rested on the still rippling reflection of your embrace. A smile settled itself on your lips, and you allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

He wasn’t supposed to run off. He was supposed to stay with the group. Where did he go? Why did he run off? Why did he run off?

Your panicked gaze scanned over your wooded surroundings in hopes of spotting the familiar nephilim, but it was to no avail. This hunt was lasting longer than it was supposed to. The last rays of the day were disappearing and the streams of sunlight that once ran through the treetops were quickly being replaced by a shroud of dark night sky.

A scream of his name bubbled up in your throat, and it took everything in you to force it back down and continue your quiet search. You could hardly even hear the shuffling of the rest of the team around you over the pounding of your heart in your ears. You tightened your grip on the handle of your gun, hovering your pointer finger over the trigger in case of an emergency. The bullets loaded into the gun wouldn’t do much good against the wendigo lurking somewhere in those woods, but you held on to the hope that you would be able to distract the thing long enough to molotov the son of a bitch.

“I just don’t understand why he would go off on his own like that,” you muttered aloud, voice audibly shaking with unease. Dean let out a sigh.

“You know how the kid has been lately. He hasn’t felt the same since he came back without his mojo. He’s probably trying to prove he’s still valuable to the team,” the older hunter explained. He kept his voice as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the bloodthirsty monster hiding in the shadows, but even at such a low volume his baritone seemed to echo endlessly through the trees. You winced at the idea of the wendigo perched atop one of the many branches looming overhead, simply listening to your conversation and waiting for the right time to strike.

You let out a frustrated huff. “He doesn’t have to prove a thing. We all know he’s a valuable asset to the team. Plus, he’s family.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Sam nod his head, his chin length hair swaying with his movements. “Of course we know that, but I don’t think he’s trying to prove it to us. He’s doing this to prove it to himself.”

Your heart constricted at that. Jack didn’t believe he was capable without his powers, and now he was risking his life to make a point to himself. You swallowed the rising lump in your throat and blinked away the sting of would-be tears. This wasn’t the time to get emotional.

Your search seemed fruitless, and soon enough you found yourself unable to see past a few feet in the darkened woods. Castiel’s eyes shone a bright blue, the only light you could make out in the otherwise almost pitch black night. The moon provided little comfort from its place shrouded behind the tops of the trees. A chilling wind swept through the forest floor, sending an unnerving chill down your spine.

“Can you see anything, Cas?” You asked the angel, whose eyes flickered back and forth across the landscape. He furrowed his brow in frustration.

“I can’t find any signs of Jack’s presence. No trail of footprints, no broken branches, nothing to indicate where he might have gone.”

This answer was unhelpful, but exactly what you expected. Jack might be practically human now, but he isn’t a fool. He knows how to cover his tracks like the best of them. Castiel continued to examine the terrain, being the only one of the four of you who could still manage to see. Meanwhile, you followed close behind and tuned your ears in to listen for anything suspicious. It didn’t go over your head that there was still a ravenous wendigo prowling around, and three blinded hunters would surely be a tempting meal to the beast. If it wasn’t stalking Jack, then you had no doubts that its eyes were on you. To be entirely honest, you weren’t sure which option made your stomach turn more.

You had just taken another step forward when you heard the scream. Jack’s voice. Undeniably, that was Jack’s voice. “Help!” He sobbed, the piercing sound bouncing off the trees. “Please help me!”

It took less than a second for you to turn and dash in the direction of the disturbance. The cries of your friends behind you, begging you to stop were drowned out in favor of pushing all of your energy forward. A hand made a grab for your jacket. You yanked the material away in one smooth motion.

Once a set of fingers wrapped around your elbow and pulled backwards, that was when the world came flooding back to your senses. Your body tumbled to the cold dirt floor. Your limbs scrambled to right yourself and continue on, but you were ultimately stopped by a pair of arms curling around your waist and lifting you up and away.

“Sam, let go of me!” You pleaded as you continued to thrash in his hold. His grip only tightened. “Sam, please! I need to save him!”

“I can’t let you do that!” His voice sounded pained, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that point.

“Why not?” You hissed through your teeth. Frustrations were mounting and anger bubbled up deep within your chest. “We can’t just leave him! He’s gonna die, I can’t lose him! We can’t lose him!”

“God, this is like trying to keep Jack from barging into that warehouse to save them all over again,” Dean muttered. His hands worked to keep you still, and your legs worked double time to kick him away. “Dammit, stop that!”

“No! Let me go!”

“(Y/N), have you forgotten what we’re hunting in the first place?” Castiel butted in. “This is a wendigo, their mimicry of human voices is perfect. We can’t trust anything we hear!” His tone begged you to understand. It told you how upset the situation made him as well. The amount of pain he felt from being unable to save the boy he sees as a son was clearly audible. And it made you even angrier.

“Sam, I’m sorry about this.”

A pause. “Wait, what?”

Without another word, you threw your elbow back to meet his chin. His hold on you released instantly, and as soon as your feet touched the ground, you were off. You could no longer hear their shouts. You couldn’t hear the pounding of your feet against the leaves and branches littered beneath your boots. You couldn’t hear your heaving breaths. All that registered in your mind was the pumping of the blood in your ears and the memories of Jack’s cry for help. Maybe it was the wendigo, but if it was, then it knew Jack. And now you had no doubt in your mind that it planned to go after Jack first. Maybe you were running straight into the monster’s trap, but if there was even the slightest chance that you could kill this thing before it set a claw on Jack Kline, you were going to take it.

Your search brought you to the mouth of a cave. All you could make out was the rock’s shape around a gaping, pitch black hole. Carefully, you tucked your gun in the waistband of your pants and replaced it with your lighter in one hand and your homemade molotov bottle in the other. In a few quick flicks the lighter sparked to life. Upon waving the flame over the ground outside the cave, a few old splotches of blood became very apparent, and your hunter instincts kicked into overdrive. This was the wendigo’s lair. There was no doubt about that.

You took silent steps into the cave. The humid air held the unmistakable scent of rotten flesh and the metallic tang of blood, new and old. You swallowed down the bile that threatened to creep up your throat and continued on. The shake that previously overtook your hands was long gone now, replaced by the deadly, steady accuracy of your rage.

Your venture took you deeper and deeper into the cavern. The farther in you got, the heavier the stench became in your nose, and it took all you had not to gag on each breath. The air was stale and the ground was just damp enough to utter a soft squish each time your boots sunk into the dirt. The cave took a sharp turn, and you pressed your back against the wall before swinging out around the corner with your lighter and bottle outstretched and at the ready. What you saw, however, wasn’t the wendigo, but a clearly winded Jack Kline pressed against the wall where the cave hits a dead end.

His eyes met yours and instantly you saw the fear filling his body. “No, you shouldn’t be here!” He cried out, struggling to his feet with one hand planted firmly on the rock wall.

Your jaw clenched at the sight of crimson staining his left pant leg, the denim clearly torn where the wendigo must have slashed at him to immobilize him. “Where is it?” You growled out. Jack opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short when the sound of skittering claws rang from behind you. You turned around in just enough time to see the beast swipe a hand at you. It sent you flying into the far wall of the space. Your grip on the bottle and lighter tightened as your back slammed against the stone. Pain exploded in your side, and only once you felt the blood soaking into your shirt did you realize it was coming from the large gash along your torso.

The wendigo let out a ferocious snarl as it stalked towards Jack, seeming ready for a meal now that it had stocked up on a new victim to keep for later. Blood trickled down your neck from where the back of your head had connected with the wall, and the pounding sensation sent your vision swirling and fading in and out. You couldn’t see much, but from what you made out of the creature raising its claws to strike Jack down, you were ready to jump into action.

One flick of the lighter seemed to be enough this time, and you barely gave the cloth enough time to catch the fire before you screamed out, “Duck!” and hurled both objects, molotov and lighter combined, in the direction of the monster. Jack dived towards you to the best of his ability with an injured leg. The molotov connected with the wendigo’s calf, the glass shattering and allowing the fire to spread to consume its entire frame.

You closed your eyes against the sudden light and turned to face Jack, who now sat next to you against the wall. Your hand reached out to instinctively cover Jack’s face from the flames, only to find that he, too, had turned to face you. You kept your hand in place on the side of his head. Your fingers curled into his hair and your palm pressed against his cheek in an effort to ground yourself.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to take in Jack’s features. The flickering orange flames illuminated his tousled mop of waves. With the fire placed where it was, only one side of the boy’s face was visible, but from what you could see, his skin was blotched with a layer of dirt. Some patches of skin were also coated in the telltale crimson of blood, while others were tinted a deep purple with an oncoming bruise. A distinct line ran down from his eye to curve around his chin, the path his tears continued to take along his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, a red tint surrounding the blue of his iris. The orange glow of the fire flickered in his glassy pupils. His eyes were wide and his pupils were blown like a frightened animal. His bottom lip pouted out, only adding to the image of a scared little boy being built in your mind.

His frame shook so heavily that you could see the shadow behind him quivering as well. He was scared - no, he was terrified. He was beaten, bruised, clawed, and thrown around, but all you could see was that he was alive. And in a moment of absolute clarity and overwhelming relief, you did the only thing you could think to do. You placed your palms against his cheeks and pulled him towards you into a kiss. He let out a gasp against your lips, but melted into the kiss only a moment later. He shuffled as close to you as he possibly could. His hands clutched desperately at your shirt and tugged every so often as if he wanted you even closer. Your hands drifted to the back of his head and your fingers curled through his hair. You gripped at the roots with just enough force to remind him that you were there, and you weren’t going anywhere.

By the time you both broke away from each other, Sam, Dean, and Castiel were stood over the flaming wendigo. The brothers’ chests heaved with the exertion of their run, and each of the three men wore expressions of mixed relief and understanding. Your cheeks flushed at the sight of the bruise forming on Sam’s chin. Dean let out a huff and shook his head to remind you that you would be getting a lecture for what you had done, but kept his speaking tone soft and clear of judgement for the time being.

“Come on, lovebirds. Let’s get you two patched up.”

You lounged lazily across the couch in what Dean had deemed his “Dean cave.” You had mentioned your favorite movie the other day in passing, and Jack had seemed quite interested in the subject, having never seen the film before. When Sam and Dean went out on a local salt and burn with just the pair of them, you decided that would be the perfect chance for you to introduce the ex-nephilim to your world. After mentioning the idea to Castiel and wondering if he had seen it before, he told you that he knew about it from the information Metatron gave him, but held no personal memories or thoughts on the subject. He seemed glad to join yourself and Jack on your movie night, and you were more than prepared to have a nice, calm night with your favorite celestial beings.

The room was dark except for the soft glow of the DVD’s menu screen on the flat screen Dean had splurged on a few weeks prior. You were grateful that you no longer had to crowd around someone’s laptop for movie nights, and the dedicated room for relaxation was a necessary add in to the bunker after everything you all had to deal with. You fiddled with the remote in one hand, your arm spread out towards the TV as it hung off the couch.

Castiel sat upright in one of the comfy old recliners placed on either side of the couch. His hands rested on his knees and a soft smile settled on his lips. His cobalt gaze swept over you in amusement and a bit of wonder. “(Y/N),” he addressed into the silent air. As usual in these situations, he kept his tone soft.

You looked up at him, your vision of him upside down from your position. “What’s up, Cas?”

“I was just wondering,” he began, fiddling with his thumbs. “We haven’t had a talk in a while.”

You paused a moment to think. “We have, Cas. We usually have a talk at least once a week. We had one a couple days ago, right?” You reminded him. Your brows were furrowed in confusion. Castiel gave a quick nod.

“Yes, I suppose, but I more so meant we haven’t had a talk about a specific subject in quite a while.” His rephrasing cleared up little in your mind, but from the look in his eyes, he was expecting you to come to some sort of understanding.

Your eyes wandered the room as you continued to rack your brain for a clue. “Do I get any hints? Am I allowed to phone a friend?” You joked casually.

Now it was Cas’s turn to furrow his brows. His gave his signature head tilt as he spoke. “I… don’t see how calling a colleague might help in this situation, but…” He trailed off and shook his head in dismissal. “What I mean is, you seem to have lost interest in the lore on human souls. I simply find it peculiar how you have stopped asking about wishing to see them and wondering what they look like so suddenly. I hope you know that you are not bothering me when you ask things like that.” His tone held an apologetic edge to it, as if afraid that he had seemed to disinterested and had scared you off of the subject. A smile found its way onto your face at the thought. Castiel, angel of the lord, worried he made you feel bad about your interests and curiosity.

“No, Cas, I know. You’re always very patient with me during our talks, and I really appreciate that. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I kinda… understand it now?” You tried to clear things up, but it came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

“How so?”

You gave a vague shrug. You dropped the remote onto your stomach and picked absentmindedly at your nails, trying to hide the crimson blush creeping up your cheeks in the low light available. Around anyone else you would be certain that they could not see such a thing, but you knew better with Castiel. His vision that night in the woods was proof enough that he could see in the dark without issue. “I guess I just… I understand how you can just… tell what someone is like through something as simple as a light. I understand that feeling of looking at something and understanding how it’s feeling. I used to think that a light couldn’t possibly be enough, that a soul can’t be made up of something so simple, but I guess I figured out how complex it can really be. Complex, but still… really beautiful. And good. And pure. And sure, maybe sometimes it’s a little scary, but at the end of the day, it stands for power and beauty and life, and that’s pretty amazing.” You trailed off of your tangent with a cough. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could practically feel Cas’s gaze burning holes in your head. “Or, like, something like that. I guess. Whatever, it’s not important.”

The angel opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment Jack opened the door with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn in hand and a bright smile on his face. He raised the bowl in celebration. “I didn’t burn it this time!” He cheered in victory. You grinned.

“That’s great, Jack! Now get over here, and let’s get this movie started.” You raised your head up just enough so he could sit down before dropping it back down onto his lap. He placed the bowl on the coffee table to free up his hands so he could begin running them through your hair.

You wouldn’t notice the way Castiel’s gaze lingered on you both for the better portion of the movie. You wouldn’t notice the way he picked out each little social cue Dean had taught him about romance all those years ago. You wouldn’t notice the pleased smile that would tug at the corners of his lips when he realized that this was real. But you would notice the way Jack’s face would change with each twist of the plot. You would notice the way the dull light from the TV cast a perfectly cut shadow to define his jawline. You would notice how different he looked in the different color palettes present in different scenes. You would notice how the shadows across his face danced and shifted each time he would lean down to plant a random kiss on your lips, cheek, or forehead. You would always notice these things, because that was Jack Kline’s soul. Every little flicker of the light across his skin, every shadow along the curves of his body, every glint in his eyes, everything you saw was a part of who he is. And in your eyes, who he is is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen.

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thegeminisage · 4 years

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hey liz i've been thinking a lot about story structure lately and i wanted your take on how you decide what structure your stories will have? i know there's that "you have to do what your story needs and tells you to do" thing but these bitches dont ever tell me anything they just multiply so. thoughts? - bma

(as an aside, i don't know whether involving medium would change many things but it may be worth considering. mainly i think medium is just a matter of arrangement and that the story would be for most intents and purposes the same no matter how you choose to tell it. i guess you could argue that structure is arrangement in itself and intrinsically tied to medium but i sort of feel like it is secondary arrangement, if at all? like if you consider time as an element to outline -- the time IN the story (how things happen to your characters) is not necessarily the time you’re telling the story IN (how you are telling your reader that things are happening) aka internal chronology doesnt equal your work’s pacing? or should it??? does this make sense? i dont think so. i am sorry.) - bma :|

NOOO dont be sorry ur making total sense

i think there’s 3 thots to unpack here (medium, structure, & chronology) & i’m gonna start with medium bc it’s easier. im also putting it behind a cut bc it’s gonna get just stupidly long and rambly. i’m sorry in advance if it’s not helpful to you, i have a lot to say for someone who has never taken even one single class on writing and as a result doesn’t know jack shit (there’s a tl;dr at the end dont worry)

about MEDIUM:

so like ok i’m just some goof-off with a HS degree who writes fanfiction but In My Very Super Qualified Personal Opinion, i don’t think that most of the time medium is intrinsically tied to STRUCTURE of the main storytelling arc...i think the art of storytelling itself is distinct from the medium you choose to tell the story IN. this post puts it better than i ever could but basically for me, i feel like the story itself is sort of the raw, malleable concept, and the medium you choose to tell it in is how you convey the information??

like in a book, you can say “she forgot her keys” and in a film you have to show her smacking her forehead, heading back into the house, and swiping her keeps off the counter. you can’t TELL in film, you have to show. similarly i regret every day i cannot perfectly describe a facial expression with words when i see it so clearly in my head. for audio-only podcasts that are dialogue heavy out of necessity you have different limitations than you would for, say, animated music videos with no dialogue at all. games allow for more interactivity and exploration while sacrificing accessibility, tv shows allow for more length while sacrificing, uh, a big hollywood budget...medium affects the kind of story you can reasonably tell which is why some stories are better suited to one medium than another. i think trying things in other mediums is a good way to stretch your storytelling muscles but with enough skill nearly any story could be told in any medium. i think when trying to decide on a medium you just gotta weigh the pros & cons and what you feel comfortable with/what you think would be most effective/what would evoke the strongest reaction

re: structure:

firstly “do what the story tells u to do” is a little silly like...the story isn’t sentient. come on. that’s like “i can only write when the writing gods inspire me” there are no writing gods! inspire yourself! it’s all in our weird messed up brains! ok anyway.

this is, again, just how i do things, and i am 700% self-taught so take it with a grain of salt, but when i sit down and start blocking out a story from scratch i don’t...actually consider the big structure at all! sorry if that’s not helpful to you. i like to make a list of everything i want to happen, and then put it together in a few different orders to see what looks best. and when i’m finished, whatever i have just like...IS the structure i go with, with perhaps minor tinkering to make it flow more smoothly. (i think this might be in the same spirit as “do what the story tells you” with less bullshit and more Agency Of The Writer.)

for long and more complex projects, i actually usually have several lists - one list of stuff that is, for example, the Action Plot (the kingdom has been cursed, i’m tracking down my serial killer sister to bring her to justice, i’m running from djinn who wanna kill my dad, i’m trying to bring my dead not-boyfriend back to life). then i have another list for Character A & Character B’s romance or whatever. and maybe a even another one for solo character development (magicphobic prince learns to love magic, former werewolf hunter figures out his family is a cult, half-demon learns to embrace his own nature). and as many lists as we need for however many Main Characters and or Plots/Sideplots

how i order the lists: individually first. don’t mix them together to start with. when deciding the order of an individual list i like to, for example in a romance arc, use escalating intimacy. “A and B have dinner together” is naturally gonna go way sooner than “A and B kiss” or “A and B talk about A’s angsty backstory” because that’s more satisfying. draw it out, good/important stuff last, dangle that carrot so we have a reason to keep reading! for singular character development, it’s basically a straightforward point A to point B...if i want my guy to start hating magic with everything he is and end up being very comfortable with it, i have to put “reluctantly uses magic to save his own life” WAYYY before “casually using magic to light torches and reheat his cold stew.”

the tricky part for me is when i’m done with these lists and then i need to mix them together To Pace My Whole Story. (this is usually why i wind up with a rainbow colored spreadsheet.) i don’t like to put too many things too close together because then the pace feels uneven. even if my Action Plot is only a thinly veiled excuse for romance and character development, i still don’t want to focus on a romance for 30,000 words and then go “and oh yeah in case you forgot Serial Killing Sister is still coming for your asses.” the more sideplots and major character arcs you’re juggling the harder it is to get an even distribution, which is my main concern always

and like, generally, whatever i have when i’m finished...is my structure. (sorry.)

i don’t know much about the classic 3-act or anything like that, but i usually can divide them up into 3-5 big arcs based on story turning points. sometimes i take a scene out of one arc and put it in another because it fits better and i like for my shit to be organized, but usually by the time i’m finished with all that, that’s what the final story is mostly gonna look like. (there have been a few exceptions when i realized i needed extra scenes/changes while i was MID-DRAFT and let me tell you that murders me EVERY time. it happened on the merlin fic i’m currently posting and that was like my own personal hell.)

this is also where thots about chronology come in:

i think time CAN be an element of this if you WANT it to be, but it doesn’t HAVE to be. if you want it to be, i would consider it just another “list” like character development or the romance arc.

i usually plot without considering Time very much...to me, it’s all down to the events you want to show, and however much time it takes is the byproduct. if you want to show something from a character’s chilhood but then tell the bulk of it when they’re adults, that’s one thing. if you want to show a scene from their childhood, teenhood, young adulthood, etc, that’s a different kind of pacing?? i usually do it this way so i can regard time like wordcount: it takes as long as it takes. 3 days or 3 years, a 1.5k drabble or a 100k epic...overall, my LARGEST CONCERN is that even distribution. in the same way that i don’t want one chapter to be 30,000 words when the rest are 10,000 words, i personally am not a fan of huge timeskips offscreen

(because this where i think someone’s own internal chronology DOES matter...this is just a personal preference, as a reader i have a hard time really comprehending, say, a year timeskip or a 10yr timeskip when all i did was turn one page. like, a year is such a long time. i can’t even begin to describe how different i am now to how i was a year ago. it’s the same for character development. time IS development and as a writer i’m not really comfortable having that take place offscreen - for main characters, at least. it’s just too jarring. a little prologue with something happening 10 or 20 years ago is usually fine, but for the most part, i’m not a fan. ...i can do one chapter per year a lot easier than i can do two chapters in childhood and the other 8 in adulthood. of course you can play with this a LOT with nonlinear storytelling, which is a whole other very cool thing, and someone skilled in their work can keep me sucked in no matter what, but imo if you don’t want to risk throwing your reader out of your work it’s better to keep things steady)

HOWEVER sometimes time IS an element u wanna consider outside of just making sure your shit is evenly distributed...if your heart is moved to tell a story in a specific timeframe, over a year, or from solstice to solstice (this was almost the timeline for my merlin fic and then i changed it), for the first six months of a friendship, or even a huge journey in the span of a single day (toby fox had a lot of success with this one lol).

i think it can help to choose a start and end point for your chronology the same way you do for character development (prince goes from hating magic to being ok with it, story takes place from ages 8 to 25, or from new year’s eve 2038 to 2039, whatever) - that way you can keep your distribution even, if that’s a thing you want to do...even if you have a lot of skips you can still note what happens offscreen to make it work better in your head? like, if you just make it another List, another column on your spreadsheet, when you’re in the early stages of organizing you can be conscious of it and make sure it’s playing into the story the way you want it to

anyway these r my thots im SOOOO SORRY this is so long lmao. brain machine broke today which is why i had to ramble more to explain myself. the tl;dr in case ur brain is melting out of ur ears & u didn’t sign up for an essay:

imo medium is totally distinct from storytelling tho ofc some stories are better suited to some mediums

structure? i don’t know her. i plot w/o regard to structure and then if it looks funny i mush it into a more structurally sound shape

my main concern when structuring anything, including time, is an even distribution of Events and a steady rate of escalation

structure to me is just what i have when i’m finished plotting. i’m sorry one day i’m gonna take a writing class

internal chronology matters to me personally because i have a little bit of time blindness but maybe not to everyone, i know many very successful stories where they disregarded that entirely to no ill effect

writer’s block isn’t real! everyone just needs more rainbow spreadsheets

thank u for asking I HOPE i didn’t make you regret it too badly lmao and that at least a little of it was helpful!!

#personal #liz loves writing #liz answers asks #brit marling anon #i couldn't figure out how to answer u without walking u thru my entire process #so that's what i did and that's why it's so long. very sorry.#im gonna set this up to reblog itself at the time u sent ur ask so that ur sure to see it!!#edit: there was SUPPOSED to be a cut on this but tumblr put it in the ASK?? i can't seem to fix it. rip

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