#like all the little scenarios and scenes and themes I could work into this idea

[imwritesometimes]

why am I always talking myself out of writing when I get a new idea?????

[cozymoko]

I really loved your yandere cowboy OC idea (Jamie) and is it possible to ask for a part 2 or something? You have me hooked👀

My Fancy Lady

Yes, anon!

Nav. Masterlist

𐚁 Pairing. Yandere! Cowboy x City Girl! Reader

𐚁 Warning(s). slight yandere themes, subtle jealousy from reader, overall just lovey-dovey though.

𐚁 Format, word count. Scenario, 2.2k words

𐚁 Synopsis. You're returning to your home back in the city, but you wouldn't dare go without your precious cowboy.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Jamie wasn't one for small talk—'less it was his woman doin' the talkin'. So, nights like this? Big ol’ fancy affairs? They weren’t his scene. He’d rather be anywhere else, maybe takin' on some honest work in town or catchin' a rodeo a few miles out. Hell, anything that didn’t have him stuffed into this stiff suit, collar chokin' him half to death.

But, reckon he had it comin’. You get yourself tangled up with a city girl, and suddenly you're wearin’ city clothes, trailed by folks who don’t know a lick about good, hard work. He couldn't help but stay close, though. With a pretty thing like you on his arm, he had to be. Men were wolves in these parts, sneakin' glances like they’d never seen a woman before—especially one who wasn’t theirs to look at. Made him chuckle under his breath. "What a damn shame."

Jamie stood across the ballroom, leaned up against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He could’ve gone and greeted your folks, but Lord, your mama was a spitfire—firing off questions quicker than he could answer. He respected her, sure, and your pa too, but he’d rather keep what was left of his sanity. Just takin' in the sight of this place made his pockets ache.

Chandeliers dangled high above like crystal-studded stars, throwing soft light around the room. Gilded columns lined the walls, polished up so fine they seemed to look down on everybody else here. Tapestries hung alongside big, expensive-lookin' paintings—probably worth more than his whole ranch. The floor? It was slick as a lake after rain, shiny enough he’d bet a nickel it could trip even the steadiest cowboy.

Then there were the folks. Struttin’ around like proud peacocks, laughin' in polished tones that came off a little too uppity for his taste. Colors swirled around him—reds as bold as a fight, blues like icy temptation—colors he'd never even seen before danced across the floor. Reminded him a little of berries and fresh tomatoes, and just the thought got a chuckle outta him.

He’d never fit into this world, but it didn’t stop him from admirin’ its quirks now and then. Even so, this whole scene was like a country mile from his real life. He was just as sure he’d turn you into a cowgirl one day, but until then, he could appreciate the wonders of what money could do, even if he wouldn’t spend his hard-earned cash like this.

But there was one bright spot in all this: you.

There you were, right in the center of it all, falling into familiar voices and easy laughter. This was your world, and you looked like you belonged in it, talkin' to faces from your past who sized up the man beside you with curious glances. And yet, you smiled at them all—good and bad. Weren't you just the sweetest thing.

The cowboy stands across the ballroom, leaning against the wall, one foot tucked over the other. It's not that he didn't want to greet your folks, but your mama was a spitfire — hammering the two of you with more questions than he can count. He loved her, and your pa too, but he'd rather keep the last piece of his sanity tucked in his belt.

High society folks rubbed him wrong. Spoiled sons and daughters who’d had everything handed to 'em, struttin' through life without a lick of sense about hard work. Obnoxious, entitled, without a care for anyone who hadn’t grown up just like them. Jamie couldn’t stand it.

Yet somehow, out of all the men you coulda chosen, you picked him. What a thief, he thought with a quiet chuckle, his dark gaze never leavin' your face.

Course, he wasn’t all that innocent either—he’d done his damnedest to pull you away from this pampered life, wanted to whisk you off to the country, to his life, his world. And he’d caught you, good and proper. But that didn’t stop him from feelin' that familiar heat, the sharp taste of blood on his tongue from biting back the urge to snap at every wolf eyein' you tonight.

“Don't make a scene,” he murmured to himself like a man clingin' to a thin thread of patience.

He’d be lyin’ if he said he didn’t want you all to himself. Seein' you wrapped up in those fine silks, hair swept back in that way you liked best, lips painted in a soft color that made you glow... God, he wanted you. If he had it his way, you’d be in worn-out jeans, maybe one of his old flannels, smellin' of him and the wide open fields.

But he couldn’t tell you no. You hadn’t seen your family in months, and it just about broke his heart to see you so homesick. Jamie ain't one to go on about his old man, but if he learned one thing, it was this: happy wife, happy life. And you may not be his wife just yet, but he planned on changin' that real soon.

So to hell with all these other women, these high-class dames flittin' around the room. He didn’t care one bit about their money or their flirtin' glances. Jamie toyed with the silver pendant around his neck, tappin' his boot in time to the music.

Just then, a young woman drifted up, not much older than you, lips red as blood and curving into a sly smile. “Excuse me, sir,” she purred, “would you like to—”

“I’d be careful, sugar,” he cut in smooth, twirlin' his whiskey glass. “My wife fights. And I'd rather not see you back at your surgeon’s tonight.”

A crooked grin played on his lips as he raised his glass to his lips, his eyes catchin' yours across the room. There was only one woman he wanted on his arm, and she was wearin' a ring that matched his own.

You never thought you'd see him in a suit before your wedding, but it was quite the surprise — a pleasant one, at that.

Standing there in front of you, Jamie looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a midnight suit that clings just right, standing out among the tailored suits and smooth accents. The crisp white dress shirt only made his deep auburn hair look richer, slicked back smooth with every curl in place, and those dimples peeked out just as he caught you staring. His boots clack as he shifts, whiskey swirling in his hand, that silver band on his ring finger catching the glint of the chandelier. The sight of it alone sends any would-be admirer scuttling off with barely a second glance. He’s your plus one for the night, and the whole room knows it.

When he smiles, there’s a glint of trouble in his eyes, and those dimples—well, they could make even the stiffest folks around here swoon. He looks like the kind of man who just barely tolerates a tie, tugging at it with a smirk whenever he catches your gaze, as if to say, “You really think all this makes me any fancier?”

He’s still Jamie through and through: rugged under all that polish, with a bit of a roguish streak he could never quite hide. And tonight, even though he’s dressed up to meet your family and stand in this world of chandeliers and silk dresses, he’s every bit the man you fell for—charmingly untamed, with a quiet confidence that makes you weak in the knees.

Your friends try to pull you into old stories and polite gossip, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. Jamie’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as though he has little interest in the things around him. There’s a hint of a smirk playing at his lips every time he catches you staring, his dimples deepening, and that mischievous glint in his dark, loving eyes. You know that look too well. It’s possessive, fiercely protective, as if he’s daring anyone to even think about taking his bride-to-be.

The more you look at him, the more it pains you to look away. You try to play it cool, but he knows you too well—knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It leaves you with thoughts from earlier in the day, making your knees weak all over again.

“My, my, he cleans up rather nicely,” a warm, familiar voice whistles beside you. “Don’t you agree, dear?” You jump, blinking back into the present, only to find your mother smiling knowingly.

“Distracted?” she teases, twirling you around to face her, an amused smile etched onto her red lips.

She glides past the group of dazzling damsels, fanning herself as she casts an appreciative glance toward Jamie. “Lord, honey,” she whispers in your ear, amused. “If he’s not about the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen—and the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s afraid the floor might steal you away.”

You laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but her words are truer than she knows. Jamie tips his glass toward you from across the room, raising it in a silent toast. There’s something soft in his expression—a flicker of mirth in his dark eyes.

You almost let them drown you, submerge you in their warmth. If not for the grating sound to your left.

"Who might that be?"

"I haven't seen him around."

"Should I ask him for a dance?"

"Do you think he's spoken for?"

"Of course, look at the jewel on his finger!"

"I quite fancy him. Shall I pursue him anyways?"

"Oh, how shameful~!"

Some of the girls here are looking his way—of course, they are. Jamie has that rugged charm, like he was carved out of southern dirt and bathed in the evening sun, with the wild confidence of a man who knows he’s got nothing to prove. His auburn hair, slicked back in a style that both respects the occasion and still says he’s a cowboy first, gives him a sharp, roguish look that’s almost out of place here, like a tiger in a cage.

But despite the glances, the obnoxious remarks, no one dares approach him. The way his eyes follow you, even from a distance, says more than words ever could. He isn’t here to be seen; he’s here for you.

Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier to hold your tongue. You’ve hosted these parties since the age of fourteen and know how people behave here—their promiscuous ways, and the men who can’t help but leer. High-class harlots looking for any man to pounce on, taken or not. Greasy men following women’s every move, provoked or not. You remember too well. This was the yearly matchmaking party hosted by four of the wealthiest families in the city, your family being one of them. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t attend the event your household had built its reputation around.

You knew Jamie would settle on keeping to himself, yet you hadn’t thought your rugged companion would be the talk of the party. That alone makes the joy blossoming in your chest wilt. For once, it feels as though he isn’t just your fiancé, but everyone’s. Of course, you want everyone to love him as much as you do—but without undressing him with their winged eyes.

Just then, Jamie makes his way over, his familiar smirk making your heart skip a beat. “Sugar,” he says, poking the soft flesh of your cheek, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous warmth. When he finally makes his way back to you, he tips his drink up, raising a brow. “Sugarplum.”

His words go in one ear and out the other, turning fuzzy and static as they pass through your mind. A deep frown settles at the corners of your lips as exasperation bubbles over.

“Jamie, stop it!” you huff, swatting his hands away. “You’ll ruin my makeup, you damn brute.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t bother moving his hand from the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as if daring you to protest again. You turn away, cheeks flushed, doing your best to regain the poise you usually wear like a crown.

Jamie notices the pout you're trying to hide, his lips curling in amusement. For all your princess-like composure, you’re showing more than you realize tonight. He leans down, his voice low and teasing.

“Don’t pout, pumpkin. Fix your face.”

You glare up at him, crossing your arms, but he just chuckles, reaching for your hand. Before you can react, he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if he were holding something precious.

“Remember, Sugar,” he murmurs, giving your kiss a long, playful smooch. MUAH! “You’re the main character.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he twirls you around, his hand never leaving yours as he guides you in a slow, elegant spin. You can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, your frown dissolving as he twirls you like with practiced ease.

Only then had you decided.

That night was quite the surprise indeed—

A pleasant one at that.

©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.

[domoriu]

i have some questions and i was wondering if you could answer them because you’re one of my favorite writers on here. plus you’re stories and vibe are very similar to mine so i’d love to here your POV!

do you have any advice and this on how to start a fanfic writing account? (on tumblr!)

how to make write good as in flow, wording, better sentences, etc? ik for this one it’s going to take practice but since i write a little already i was wondering how to make my writing actually sound good? (because urs is amazing!)

tips on motivation to write and post?

how is it as a writer on onedoorblr? (fics for bonedo) in terms of like the space to be able to post “different” stories. (hybrid, abo, freakysmutlol, femdom, dark as in tragedy’s and horror.) plus interactions, notes/likes?

sorry if this is a lot but i didn’t know who else to ask and you feel like a safer option to me of that makes sense? anyways we all love you and your stories a lot! 🩶 i hope the rest of your week is amazing (*^_^*)

OKAY I HAD TO GET ON MY LAPTOP TO ANSWER THIS ONE SINCE ITS A LOT!! also sorry if my advice is a little weird ive genuienly been in the fanfic scene for like 8 years now since i was 11 so i dont even know the answer to these myself (not my proudest moments btw...) so i'll try to give the best advice i can <3

1. i think... start off by finding a username that you think suits you a lot, and then worry about theme and all that just so your account looks good to your own eyes i think that'll really help with getting motivated to write (for me at least) and also really just have fun with it !! figuring out what you want to do on your page is also important so you can set those boundaries for yourself as well as the people engaging in your content but also always remember its your page so you can really do whatever you please. and dont be too discouraged by numbers because once you feel like its not fun and you're putting too much pressure on yourself it gets hard to make content.

2. for word building/flow all that kind of stuff... really imagine the scenarios in your head (maybe even act them out if you can, to make sure everything is flowing properly) if you're writing smut, what helps me is i look up sex positions or look up porn to get a good idea on the positioning and how to write things out. for word flow, i always have a thesaurus tab open that way i'm not using the same basic words repeatedly (this is probably the most helpful piece of advice imo, i love the thesaurus super bad) and also if you ever feel like the work isn't good or needs a little tweaking id say read it over, try to read it from the pov of someone who's reading your work for the first time or even get someone to beta read for you and give suggestions for any errors or anything that needs a bit of tweaking

3. for motivation, write down the gist of any idea you have down immediately because you might forget it or you'll just never have the motivation to really finish it. i have so many fic ideas locked away in a vault because i started writing the idea when the excitement for it died down or i completely lost motivation to write it because my brain wanted to move onto another fic idea.

write on your own schedule. just because you have a following doesn't mean you need to put out a new fic every single day, give yourself time to recollect your thoughts and work on a piece where you can put all of your attention into so you can be truly proud of your work !! because what's the point of writing something if you yourself don't even like it. and a lot of us have lives outside of tumblr, so don't pressure yourself to constantly write because soon you might get burnt out. i think having people who actually like my works is a lot of motivation as well as not feeling rushed to put things out so its like a little treat when i post something big

4. i love the people on onedoorblr !! the community isn't super big but she's growing a lot since i joined this fandom in april... and id say the range is pretty good with the people on here and everyone has their own unique things going on. i think its a pretty safe space here to write about "different" stuff, a lottt of my mutuals are all on the femdom kick when it comes to bonedo and there's a good balance of smut writers and people who write more fluffy things, i'm not sure how common the abo/hybrid/dark content fics are on onedoorblr since i don't tend to read fics in those categories but i have seen a couple hybrid bnd fics in passing !

since bnd tumblr is still kind of small you might not get a lot of notes upfront but it definitely builds up, unlike nct/enha/riize tumblr where you can basically get around 500/1k+ notes on a post within a couple days it might take a week or two also depending on who you write about. but don't get discouraged by it !! some members are just more popular in the fanfic world than others

i hope this was helpful and dont be afraid to ask any more questions >_< thank you soso much for liking my works and im glad u feel like my page is a safe space for questions that means a lot to me !! i hope your week is amazing as well <33

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

For What the Future Holds

Prompt: forgiveness

Rating: K/General with mild themes

Setting: Starts Ichigo defeats Yhwach, continues into the very beginning of the ten year time skip. There’s also flashbacks to Toshiro and Momo's past dotted throughout.

Synopsis: Momo notices Toshiro is acting out of sorts ever since the war against the Quincy ended. Meanwhile, Toshiro tries to look to the future.

AN: It’s finally DONE!!

I had the idea for this ages ago (around the time of Horizons, which is why they have a similar structure as you’ll see), but it wasn’t until the 'forgiveness' prompt for the @yearoftheotpevent came up that I finally sat down and wrote it out. It didn't turn out to be the main or overarching theme and the fic itself turned into quite the emotional piece to write ^^;

This was also partly written in light of my headcanon becoming canon! I was aware of the question from Klub Outside a long time ago, but Kubo has confirmed Toshiro and Momo were neighbours rather than living under the same roof, which has always been the scenario I saw for them when I was reading BLEACH and writing fic.

Finally, this fic also has a flashback that slightly ties into When the Souls Sleep and the World is Our Own, but only in that it was a deleted scene and I found a way to include it here instead. You don’t have to read that fic to understand what happens in that scene, just that the setting is not long after they met.

Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy it!

____________________________

“I should’ve told you about it earlier.”

Momo blinks, both at the quietness of Toshiro’s voice and the bowing of his head in her peripheral. She raises her gaze to his face from the now healed over wound on his arm, cancelling the kido as she shifts over to sit next to him. “Told me about what?”

He rolls the tattered sleeve down. He contemplates what to say, staring down at his lap. Behind him, Hyourinmaru’s hilt glints, and beyond, Shinji and Kyouraku watch over those they’d dug out from the ruins earlier. Next to them, Nanao is communicating with someone in the Seireitei – Iemura, Momo suspects – trying to coordinate transportation for the injured, and Isane, bandaged up and still recovering from her own injuries, heals Aikawa. Far away at the Reio’s Palace, she can sense Rukia about to be reunited with her brother.

“That form is why I was training in the caves,” Toshiro says, diverting Momo’s attention back to him. “I should’ve told you about it sooner.

“You mean Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form?”

He nods.

Was that all? She thinks to tease him, to make light of something he seems to be treating with more seriousness than needed, but she halts at his gaze. It’s not the usual icy, determined one she’s used to.

He’s tired – and who could blame him after what they’d gone through? – and it makes him look vulnerable. Something trembles within him, something he’d likely keep hidden behind many walls.

She offers a sympathetic smile. “Why would you need to tell me about it?”

“The way you reacted before…you were startled. If you’d known before, it wouldn’t have been as much of a shock. I apologise.”

It’s true, she’d been stunned, had even flinched with a loud gasp when she first saw him, and was perhaps even a little frightened. She’d stood there, mouth agape and speechless, unable to take her eyes away from him, even as her captain swore and asked who he was. She hadn’t known how else to react, but later as he motioned her towards a piece of rubble to sit on as he explained how he had somehow become an adult, the shock wore off.

She had to resist the urge to hug him out of sheer relief, this was not the time or place for such high emotions. So she’d gotten to work on healing his wounds after he’d transformed back – but only after the others had been found and pulled out from under the rubble.

“It’s all right,” she reassures. “It was startling, yes, but I knew it was you. It was incredible, actually, but also not too surprising now that I know what it is."

He’s stunned, but hides it quickly with a clearing his throat and a deepened frown. “How so?”

“I didn’t see all of the battle you and Captain Kuchiki did with the Quincy, but what I did see was amazing. You froze the Quincy’s shield in mid-air, within a second. A-And then you froze the Quincy completely! I thought for sure he was defeated then, truly.”

He nods to himself, remembering. “So did I. He gave us more than we bargained for in the end.”

 “At least he’s gone.” Momo sighs, and with it, a weight is released. “At least…it’s over.” It’s like a vice has loosened around her head and chest. She lets out a shuddering breath and her eyes become watery. “We’re okay, now.”

“We’ll have a lot to do when we get back, it’s not…” Toshiro trails off when he meets her gaze again. His hand twitches at his side, clearly resisting moving it. After a beat, his lips shape into a faint smile and he let’s out a short, tired chuckle. “You gonna cry, bed-wetter?”

She can’t even be mad at the nickname, she becoming too overwhelmed. “No, it’s not the time and place to.” Even as she says this, she’s furiously wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

He shrugs. “No one would blame you.”

“But it’s like you said, we need to focus on the task at hand.” She gestures to the others a short distance away. “On transporting the injured back and figuring out what our next steps are.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” His smile widens a fraction. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Despite herself, she can’t help but grin back. She sniffs and looks down. “I’m just so glad it’s over.”

He only nods with a hum.

A silence passes between them, and Momo slowly realises her own exhaustion. She has enough energy to cast lower powered kido, but even then she might be pushing it. She finds herself sitting back against the same piece of broken wall Toshiro is, listening to the distant chatter amongst their friends and wreckage crumbling and falling. She cranes her neck on the rubble’s edge, looking up at the sky.

She’d seen him soar across it hours ago, only a spec at times, and a more recognisable figure at others. At one point, the cold of his reiatsu had washed over her like a gust in a blizzard, freezing and chilling her to bone. It ebbed away minutes later, but it made her realise the magnitude of his powers. She'd wondered if he had this power this entire time and had chosen not to unveil it until now, when he needed it most to protect the Soul Society. If he was capable of this now, who knew what he could achieve in the future.

But then her mind rolls into another thought, one that makes heat rush up the back of her neck to her ears and try to suppress a chuckle.

“What is it?”

By this point Toshiro had closed his eyes.

“It’s nothing important.”

He opens one eye, unconvinced. “The spike your reiatsu said otherwise.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, chastising herself internally for not keeping it under control. She’s tired, but it’s no excuse. She lets out a small chuckle. “I was thinking that, in a funny way, Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form has given us a glimpse into the future. It’s shown us what you’ll look like when you grow up.”

She had meant it as a tease, to try and lighten the mood, but Toshiro’s frown deepens. As if realising his reaction was unexpected, he let’s out a snort. “Anything can happen between now and then to change how I look.”

The usual bite is not there. The response itself is strange, too.

Before she can ask, her captain comes up to both of them, asking for her help with moving Aikawa’s injured leg into a makeshift splint.

As she rises and leaves with her captain, Toshiro’s smile fades away, and he stares into his lap. No, into something else.

___________________________________

There was a time where future went as far as Granny.

What would she need today? What days was she planning to go out and shop? Would he need to help her with?

When would she pass away?

Toshiro never lingers on that last thought, always distracting himself with whatever he could. At the moment, it’s with sweeping the house and yard.

He’s up to the front porch, pushing the dust and dirt off the edge with the broom. Granny is inside, sewing a new garment together for him.

“You’ve grown again,” she’d remarked earlier with a smile. “You’ll need new clothes now.”

As far as he could tell he hadn’t. The ground seemed to be as far away as it was a week ago, and he hadn’t put on any weight. But he had to admit his clothes the last few days had seemed a fraction shorter at his legs and tighter around his shoulders.

It’s a few minutes later when he hears yelling. A group of children rush past his house, some giggling, others chattering about Momo, who's at the center of attention. She excitedly tells them her application exam date, beaming so wide it must hurt her cheeks.

When was she going to the Academy?

That one stung, and he ignores it with a sweep of the brush.

Months ago, he’d asked Jidanbo what it took to become a Shinigami. The giant was just as surprised as Toshiro had expected him to be.

“Have you changed your mind about not going, Toshiro-kun?” Jidanbo had asked.

“No,” is all he said.

Realising he wasn’t going to elaborated, Jidanbo had shrugged and said, “First, you must have spiritual potential and the ability to show it. You go to the Shinigami Academy, where you learn to become a Shinigami. The exam to get in is tough, sometimes you have to take it multiple times --” he'd rubbed the back of his neck “ -- like I did. My brother was more lucky, he only took the exam once and got in. Once you’ve passed, you’re enrolled in the next semester and that’s about it.”

Toshiro already know even if Momo didn’t get a pass on the exam the first time, she’ll go for it again and again and again, until she was enrolled.

He’d seen her enthusiasm long before this. The day she’d rushed to him, her cheeks flushed and her hair whipped around her from running to find him, and taken him back to his house to show him what she’d just accomplished. She’d cupped her hands together, and several seconds later, a white glow emanated from between the gaps in her fingers. When she’d pulled her hands apart, the orb radiating in her palms broke apart into smaller orbs that floated away. Momo chortled in delight, and Toshiro almost did the same. When she was this joyous it was often contagious, especially when he eyes are so wide with wonder and elation.

What had stopped him was a single thought, one that shot through him and made him realise just how far he’d let her into his life.

One day, she’ll be gone. 

____________________________

The next time Momo sees Toshiro is on her way to the First Division. Shinji runs ahead of her on the walkway, listing off the topics they will need to discuss with Kyoraku. She’d been listening intently, but got distracted as they passed Twelfth Division.

From this high up, she couldn’t recognise most of Shinigami out and about, but the moment she saw one with white hair and a short stature and his cold reiatsu faintly emanated up to her, she knew it was Toshiro. He steps out of Twelfth Division’s main barracks, followed by Rangiku. There’s something morose about the way they hold themselves and in their slow walk to the division’s main gate entrance. They come to a stop just as a building blocks Momo view.

“You all right back there?” Shinji asks.

“Sorry, sir! I just saw Rangiku-san and Captain Hitsugaya.”

“Ah.”

“…Are they coming to this meeting too?”

“Nah, just us, Third, and Eighth.” She can hear his grin when he continues after a beat, “Were you hoping to socialise with them?”

“Of course not!” Momo scoffs.

It’s left at that. Still, she thinks back on how they had looked. She’d be sure to visit them sometime soon, if all goes according to plan with the reconstruction of the Districts.

________________________________

Momo found him sitting on the front porch of his house, peeling chestnuts. He hadn’t noticed her at first, but when her footsteps scrapped against the dirt path, he looks up.

“What’re you staring at?” Toshiro asks.

“Sorry, I just came to visit,” she says as she comes closer. “What are these for?”

He senses there’s more to this than just a visit, but he puts it aside for now. “Baa-chan is making chestnut rice tonight. She was going to ask you to come take some back to your house. She always does it in big batches.”

Momo grins. “That’s kind of her.”

Toshiro only shrugs with a huff. Momo’s grin falls into a small, unsure smile. He’s quick to pick up a nut from the tub in front of him, peel the shell off with a small knife, then put it with the others ready for Granny.

“In that case, do you mind if I help?” Momo says. “I can’t let her do that for me and my friends without helping her.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to.”

She makes herself comfortable next to him. She takes a spare knife from the tray he’d brought out, then collects several chestnuts from the tub. He opens his mouth, but shut it after she starts peeling. What had he wanted to say? Did he want to tell her to leave? Did he want to ask about the Academy?

Save for the knifes cracking open and peeling the shells, there’s silence between them. In front of her, the day passes, clouds moving across the sky and the sun shining down on the swaying trees and lively Junrinan a short distance away.

After a moment, Momo pauses as she takes another chestnut. In his periphery, she fiddles with it between her hands, as if trying to wring something out of it. She puts the knife to the chestnut, but is slow to peel the shell away.

She nervous, perhaps gearing herself up to say something. He already knows she’s going to Academy, remembers her loud declaration to Granny several weeks ago that was equal parts ecstatic and anxious. He didn’t want to reflect on his behaviour since she announced it, but he knows he’s become more sullen towards her.

Granny chastised more than once him, saying he should be happier for her and congratulate her; but he can’t ignore the tightness in his chest every time he thinks about her leaving. He hates that she had become a annoying and welcomed constant in his live for the last few decades, and even worse, that he had imagined what the future – whether it was the next week or the next year – would be like, and she was there in his imaginings, along with Granny and Jidanbo. Never used to even think about the future, his life had been repetitive until she came along.

After taking off the chestnut’s shell, Momo stops. “Can I ask you something?”

Toshiro continues peeling. “Hm?”

“Even if you don’t become a Shinigami, can we still be friends?”

Toshiro halts. His brows furrow, but he still doesn’t look at her. “What’s with that question?”

“I mean, while I’m at the Academy we won’t be seeing each other too much. And when I become a Shinigami, it’ll be even less. We’re friends, and, um…I want to stay friends, even when we’ve grown up.”

Her voice wavers towards the end, losing what confidence she’d built up to speak to him.

Toshiro blinks down at the chestnut in his hands. Somewhere around them, the leaves rustle in the wind, and a bird chirps and another caws back in response. The last parts of the shell fall away.

“You might be different by then,” he says solemnly, still unable to look at her.

Momo presses her lips into a tight line. “Well, of course. Everyone changes as they grow up. They become more mature and responsible.”

“Not all adults are.”

“Most though.” She drops her chestnut into the peeled pile. “I don’t know how often I’ll be allowed to visit, but I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll be doing your Shinigami stuff, you won’t have time.”

“B-But I want to.”

He finally looks at her. At the hurt that flickers through her eyes, he wants to take it back. She obviously hadn’t expected this coldness from him. Yes, his usual bratiness can make him say some hurtful things on occasion, but this is different for her. This was a side of him she rarely saw, and it’s a side she is never on the end of.

But what’s the use? She’ll go to the Academy and forget about him. She’ll make new, better friends. Ones she can go into the future with and who can understand the struggles and triumphs she’ll experience as a Shinigami.

“Do whatever you want then.”

His comment doesn’t ease the turmoil in her, with her gaze falling off to the side and her shoulders slumping. She’s on the verge of a sob, but she bravely keeps it back. “Are you saying you don’t think we should be friends anymore?”

It’s an opening he should take. He has to start letting her go, so it won’t hurt so much when she turns away, and stops being a part of his future.

“I…I’m not saying that.” He’s weak. “I’m just being realistic. You’ll be busy, you won’t have the time to write to us.”

It’s not the answer she expects. Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she doesn’t speak for several heartbeats. She's stuck between being confused and stunned. “I-I’d make time. Of course I’d make time!”

Her earnestness and fierce determination fracture what little resolve he had left. “Well then, let’s see you try.”

_____________________________

Momo glances at Toshiro from across the meeting hall.

He’d just stepped back into line after reporting on his areas for reconstruction. His division is doing well, ahead of schedule in fact.

Normally the thought would make her happy. He’s always been a hard worker; never for the sake of wanting to one-up another or show off, but because he wanted to do good for others. It was one of her favourite things about him.

But something about him is different. The war against the Quincy and taking in the total devastation it had caused had affected all of them, changing each of them in both subtle and obvious ways.

Toshiro holds himself differently. There’s the usual stoicism on his face, and the straight, pulled back shoulders and slightly raised chin that have been a part of his posture since he became a captain.

It’s his hands. They’re curled in loose fists at his side. Something is on his mind, and whatever it is, it’s causing him to be tense. His gaze shows he’s present, now listening to Mayuri give his report into his latest findings, but there’s something going on in the back of his mind he can’t escape from.

She wishes she could cross the room and take one of his hands.

_____________________________

“Don’t bother coming back, bed-wetter!”

Please come back.

And she must see through him, because her high spirits aren’t dampened as she continues to smile and wave at him. He’ll never understand how she can be so cheerful so often.

Eventually, she has to turn away from him and navigate her way through the growing crowds. After she vanishes and as Granny gently chastises him for his rudeness, he can’t dismiss the thought that haunts him. The same thought that had made him try to disconnect from her weeks ago.

What if she doesn’t?

_____________________________

Momo watches Toshiro ponder over the map of the North districts. Each was outlined in the colour of the division that has jurisdiction over them, Fifth Division’s in turquoise and Tenth Division’s in dark green.

“So we’ll tackle this area together,” Shinji says while drawing his finger along the border between the North districts nineteen and twenty. “It makes sense seeing as our jurisdictions are night next to each other. Also, saves us on costs if you go with shared resources, right?”

Both Toshiro and Rangiku nod.

“Have you brought this up with the Captain Commander yet?” Toshiro asks.

“Not yet. We went to a meeting about…” he lifts his gaze to the ceiling of Tenth Division’s office, trying to recall.

“It’s was a month ago, sir,” Momo quietly offers.

Shinji snaps his fingers. “Yes, thank you, Hinamori! Geez, we’ve been to so many meetings lately I’m getting them confused.”

Toshiro scoffs. Momo tries not to smile in response; it’s the first normal, in-character thing she’s seen him do since they arrived.

“Anyway, at that meeting, the Captain Commander suggested a few ways we can save on costs for the reconstruction efforts, one of which was shared resources. Sure you got told the same whenever you went to you met with him yourselves." Shinji jerks his thumb towards Momo. “My lieutenant here suggested we collaborate on the districts that border with other divisions, like yours.”

Momo can’t help but lift her chin a little at the credit her captain gave her. Sometimes he had a way of making one feel accomplished, even over the smallest things.

Rangiku grins. “It’s a great idea, and not surprised that it came from you, Hina-chan.”

Momo laughs nervously. “Rangiku-san…”

“Stop, you’ll make her overheat,” Shinji teases.

“Sir, honestly!” Momo retorts.

He only laughs, but he eyes Toshiro. So he’d noticed it too. Normally situations like this riled her childhood friend up, made him shout something along the lines of ‘We need to focus right now!’ or simply glare at him. Toshiro’s eyes were on the map, jumping to all the districts under his jurisdiction.

It was barely perceptible, but Momo could see with each district he eyes, a little more weight is added to his shoulders.

Shinji quickly returns things to the business at hand. Several minutes later, her captaina nd Toshiro agree to do reconstruction together.

As Shinji and Rangiku start on a plan, Toshiro stands up rorm the couch. “I’ll go get a pot of tea.”

“Do you need assistance with that?” Momo asked, ready to rise up.

He shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

He leaves while Rangiku and Shinji continue to hash out a plan. His walk would not seem out of the ordinary to most, Momo saw the weight in his shoulders from before, and just as she’d noticed when she first arrived, that he forced himself to stared straight ahead, and not once at her.

___________________________

He regrets every bad thing he’s ever said to her. Every angry exclamation. Every promise or important day he’d forgotten. Every time he scared her for a laugh when they were children. Every tease about her.

He barely manages a landing, his whole body numb with horror. Ice keeps breaking around them. He can hear yelling, but it’s muffled around the ringing in his ears. For the first time in his life, he’s too cold.

She finally stirs, and her hazy, fading eyes stare up at him. He shakes and can barely breathe. He might collapse, but she’s keeping him rigid and frozen in place. She says his nickname, a pierces through him, hitting a part of him that he always associated with first meeting her. The memory of it, the feeling of someone finally looking at him like he wasn’t so different, and letting it warm him into a fleeting sense of security.

“…Why?”

Something in him shatters. 

He should’ve been kinder. Why hadn’t he been? Because he’d been a child who didn’t know better when they first met. Because he’d been alone for so long he didn’t know how to interact with others. Because he’d been scared. Because he’d let her in too far. Because he didn’t know a life without her anymore.

____________________________

An evening breeze blows through the streets of the South Second district, swaying the lanterns of restaurants and brushing Momo’s hair over her shoulders. It reminds her she needs to get it cut, but then she had thought of –

“That was a really good meal.”

Momo looks over to Rangiku , who interlaces her fingers and stretches her arms over her head with a grin.

“It was,” Momo says with her own smile. “I’m glad you recommended that place. We should take the other Women’s Association members there sometime.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. I wanted to try it out with you first.” She winks as she lowers her arms. “It’s been a while since we had a girls night out, huh?”

Momo’s smile widens. After recovering from the battle in the Fake Karakura Town and being discharged from Fourth Division, Rangiku had arranged for the two of them to have lunches and dinners together. They’d be casual mostly, chatting about work for only a short while before moving on to longer discussions about their hobbies, who they’d caught up with lately, and there were a few times they’d left wherever they'd eaten from and gone shopping together. Every now and then, particularly in the beginning, their chatter would turn sombre. They’d reflect on what had happened, whether it was Aizen’s betrayal or Gin’s death, and it took some effort to return the conversation back to something lighter.

Momo remembers the look that would come over Rangiku’s face during those moments. As her friend stares ahead into the growing crowds, she can see hints of that old expression. Her eyes are hooded, her eyes take on a glassiness, and she ignores things – like the loud cheering of an izakaya they pass by, or the sprinting children that almost bump into them before dodging off to the side. What was most telling though was Rangiku didn’t comb her fingers through her hair and complain about the wind ruining her hairstyle.

Like Toshiro, something had been bothering her, but unlike him, she seems to be bouncing back from it quicker. Still, she had moments like this where she grew quiet and solemn. It sends a twinge through Momo’s chest. “Can I ask you something, Rangiku-san?”

Her friend blinks and “Hm?”

Momo’s hesitation catches up to her. She’d wanted to ask before she’d come to dinner, but at seeing Rangiku being her usual boisterous and jolly self, the question had faded into the background.

“I was wonder…”

If she asks her now, she can finally know what happened. Of course, it wouldn’t be Rangiku’s place to say what happened to Toshiro…but what if it was the same thing that affected her?

“…I was wonder if you, uh…”

Momo recalls the two of them leaving Twelfth that day over a month ago, and the chances are whatever it was…

“Do you have any style recommendations for my hair? I was thinking of growing it out rather than getting it cut again.”

Without realising, Rangiku had brought them to a stop in the middle of the street. Souls pass around them, some with skeptical or awed looks, others completely ignoring them. The wind dies down, leaving Rangiku hair slightly frizzy. There’s a gentle smile on her lips, and a knowing look briefly comes across her eyes. Had she known what Momo truly wanted to ask?

But she couldn’t bring herself to, not when it occurred to her that asking Rangiku would potentially expose what has been bothering Toshiro too. She didn’t want to put her friend in an uncomfortable position, but with a tightening of her heart, it dawns on her that asking Toshiro would only do the same for Rangiku.

She’d trapped.

“Yeah, I can think of a few,” Rangiku eventually says. "I'll bring some ideas at the next Women's Association."

Momo blinks.

Rangiku had spoken quietly, uncharacteristic given that hair and fashion were topics she often spoke fervently about. Momo manages to take a deep breath in that looks natural enough, and then a small smile. “I thought you would. Thank you.”

____________________________

Come back.

Toshiro pleads it in silence to the night sky on another sleepless night.

He’d known her for so long, had let her become his closest friend. Her being there as they grew older, as they rose up the ranks of the Shinigami and protected the Seireitei, was an inevitability. How naïve he had been. For all of his posturing and talk of responsibilities and knowledge that any of his subordinates could die on missions, she had somehow become the exception.

Somehow, she would live on forever with him.

How can he have clung to such childish ideals?

Come back, he pleads again. I know now. I want things to be different.

_________________________________

Shafts of the sunrise spill into Momo’s room. She sits up before her alarm clock goes off. Rubbing her eyes and lifting the blanket away, she starts her day.

Nerves thrum through her, and no matter what she tells herself or how many times she goes over the plan for today, they don’t settle.

Today is their first day working together with Tenth Division.

After bathing and changing into her uniform, she steps up the mirror to brush her hair. After a few minutes, she takes up her hair clip and clips it in place.

She stares at her reflection, and after a beat, worries her bottom lip. She sighs and lowers her head with tightly shut eyes. How is she going to get through today?

_____________________________

Momo bound up the stairs towards him. Her recently cut hair tousles around her, and she beams widely. She’s obviously dying to tell him something, even shouts his nickname. Perhaps because they’re not in vicinity of his subordinates or the other Captains and Lieutenants, or perhaps because her joy is so often infectious, he chooses not to shout the usual correction at her.

In fact, Toshiro can't help but smile. He’s been doing that more lately.

He decided to be more open, with her first, and eventually with others.

When she stops in front of him and began to gush over a new project she was working on with her division, he has trouble covering up the reaction he has to the relieved, cathartic ache in his heart. Her forgiveness is still raw, even after all these months. Thankfully, she’s so caught up in her excitement she doesn’t see him briefly glance away to regain his composure.

The future was brighter, but the fact there was even a future with her after everything is a blessing all of it’s own.

_____________________________

From a distance, Toshiro orders his and a few of Fifth Division’s officers to do various tasks, and after they disperse, he goes to the next group.

Momo looks back to the map of North District Nineteen and continues outlining the area she and her subordinates will work on. In her periphery, Shinji finishes speaking with Takaya and Katsuro, and makes his way over to Toshiro before he can reach the group.

She tries to ignore the exchange, but her ears unwittingly tune in, catching bits and pieces of their conversation over the shouts of subordinates, sandals crunching in the dirt, and equipment being unloaded from carts. From what she’d (unintentionally) been able to tell, they discuss their findings so far.

She keeps a wince from reaching her face and she recalls their brief meeting this morning. She only gave Toshiro a glance, keeping her eyes either on Rangiku or somewhere behind the two of them. Toshiro retained a stoic exterior, even made a few pointed comments towards Shinji like he did when her captain annoyed him, but that heaviness in his shoulders and eyes is still there. She wishes she could just wave it away, like the wind pushing the clouds across the sky overhead.

It had been over a month since the war ended. He hasn’t said anything to her, and she can’t tell of it’s because of the work they’ve had to do or because he doesn’t want to. Was he concerned for Rangiku? Was it something he didn’t think she’d understand? Would it hurt her?

She shakes her head. She repeatedly tries to tell herself it’s none of her business, but her concern and burgeoning frustration doesn’t waver. Both grow when she can sense, for only several seconds, his gaze on the side of her face.

_____________________________

He doesn’t recall anything of his time as a ‘zombie’ to the Quincy, nor does he want to.

The last thing he remembered was collapsing, his ice shattering around him. Time slowed, as in that moment he thought about how this could be the end. It certainly felt like it was. He was so weak, so very tired and hurting, but he was still awake when the shadow fell over him.

However, the old cliché he’d been told about didn’t happen. He didn’t think on or remember his past. He didn’t despair that he was dying.

He'd thought about Rangiku, dying below, with no one to help her.

He'd thought about his subordinates, who would be without a captain again.

As a darkness began to settle around the edges of his blurred vision, he thought about Momo. He’d sensed her before, she’d been far away from where he was. She reiatsu had been strong, she was all right.

He didn’t need to protect her. Yet he still wanted to see her. For the last few seconds before the darkness took over and muffled footsteps and a sickly sweet voice reach his ears, he thought about the fact he won’t be there in her future.

His next memory is of being put in the recovery tanks along with Rangiku. At the time he’d been exhausted from the procedure Mayuri had made him endure – he vaguely recalls Mayuri half sarcastically marveling, “I’m quite surprised you’re conscious right now.”

He was lifted and secured into the tank by Nemu. Mayuri had watched him, and didn’t approach until Nemu stepped aside. He’d spoken at him, but Toshiro wavered between consciousness and falling into a warmer darkness and only caught sections of his sentences.

“The tank will complete the de-zombification…Consider yourself…Lieutenant is…My procedure took…years off your lifespan, but…we’ll take you to the Palace, no doubt you will…”

And the tank lid had lowered as Toshiro bowed his head. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his mind clung to one part of what Mayuri had said.

My procedure took…years off your lifespan…

He vaguely remembered thinking he must have misheard.

He hadn't focused on it when he awoke again and left the tank, choosing instead to thank Mayuri and rush off into the fray with Rangiku. She surely heard too, but he'd kept quiet about it. He’d been truly grateful and yet, that piece of information, it lingered quietly in the back of his mind.

He’d focused on the fight against the Giant Quincy, and had to resort to using Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form. He thought only of battle strategies and ways to keep his enemy distracted from either destroying the Soul Society below or from causing further harm to those still in the area. 

It's now hours after the Quincy had evaporated away, and he and Byakuya found Momo and Shinji, safe.

She's been clearly startled by his appearance. He didn't know what to expect, had never really thought about her reaction to seeing him like this, but he dislikes her being so confused and unsure. Certain there's no immediate danger in their vicinity and with Byakuya scouting the area, takes her aside to explain the Completed Form.

Shock turns recognition, and then finally to relief. He can't help but feel she same moments later when he's transformed back and she heals his injuries. It's only a few minutes later when Mayuri’s words fully hit him. From then on, he can barely look her in the eye.

_____________________________

The setting sun halos Toshiro's hair, and his shadow casts long over the rubble. He stands alone, arm folded and back facing those a short distance away, clearly lost in thought.

In different circumstances, it would’ve posed as quite the striking image for Momo; one she would be tempted to capture in either her drawings or as a photo on her denreishiki.

His subordinates walk around her, gathering up the materials and equipment they’d used. She didn’t have to interact with him at all today, and even if she did, she’s not sure how she would go about it.

Somewhere behind her, Shinji calls out for officers to help with lifting some of the ruins into carts to be cleared off. She turns to go and assist, but its hard to take her eyes off her friend. The turmoil from earlier arises. She can’t ask him what's wrong, and he won’t even look at her unless she doesn't notice. Still, she can’t leave him as is.

With a deep breath in, and then out, she walks to him.

Her steps crunch from the smaller pieces of rubble and dirt, and alert him to her approach. He half twists around to her, and it causes her to stop more than an arms length away.

“I was wondering…” She hadn’t thought about what to say. But with a light snort, she manages. “Sorry, I was wondering if you had any further plans for Higuchi-san or Takagaki-san. We need some help with clearing the wreckage into the carts.”

Toshiro blinks, as if coming out of deep thought. With a small shake of his head, he turns back to the sunset. “No, I have nothing for them. Their performance was good, if you need to know.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll be sure to tell my Captain. They’re both hard workers, so that isn’t too surprising to hear.”

“I sent them with Narita to set up the rations for distribution. They should be finished by now.”

Momo swallows against the growing tightness in her throat. She gives a nod, not trusting her words, and only lingers for a few seconds more before turning to go. She wants to kick herself for not coming up with something better, something that would make her stay with him a bit longer and force him to talk with her.

She’s taken ten steps when Toshiro calls to her.

“Wait, Hinamori.”

She looks over her shoulder, squinting against the setting sun. She can’t make out his expression, but his arms now rest at his sides, and his shoulders are higher, straighter. There’s a resoluteness there, but somehow also a reluctance.

He approaches her, but stops after a few steps. He speaks lowly, and it’s hard to make out what he says. She has no choice but to come closer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said, Captain.”

The corners of his mouth fall and tighten into a scowl – not directed at her, she’s certain.

“When we’re done here, I want to discuss something with you,” he repeats. “I assume you don’t have time for today so I –”

“I do!” Momo would normally balk at her boldness – especially for interrupting someone, let alone a Captain. But it was if she’d been holding her breath on the brink of passing out, and now she was desperate to get air. “I-I’ll have time after we’re done here. We can talk.”

Toshiro had been surprised, but shifts his expression back to neutral. “It won’t take long. Let’s load those carts first and get back to Tenth Division.”

He walks past her, and for a moment, it's as if the heaviness within him lingers over her. Whatever this would be, she's both eager and dreading to know.

____________________________

“How long do Souls live for?”

Toshiro rolls his eyes. Ever since she got here, Momo had been full of questions. She’s more curious than the average Soul, wanting to know every little detail about her new world she called home. Just a few minutes ago she’d asked a range of questions about what rules she needs to follow she didn’t end up in trouble – as he answered her, it reminded him of telling Jidanbo the Rules of City for the first time.

Before he answers her current question, he kicks a small hill of snow just in front of them, sending a white spray into the care tree they stood under. “It depends. Some live for a few decades, others live for thousands of years.”

Over the many layers she wore up to her the bottom half of her face, Momo’s eyes widened in wonder. “Really? That’s such a long time.”

“Not to them,” he says. “Time here is different to the World of Living, or so I’ve heard.”

“Thousands of years…you can do so much in that time!”

She starts listing off various activities and adventures one could do for over a thousand years, all the while her eyes shone, and when a scarf loosened from around her face, it revealed her wide grin.

He doesn’t understand her glee. Was this something specific to Souls that came from the World of the Living? Humans lived far shorter lives than Souls; perhaps the idea of being able to live that long appealed to them. He’d been born in the Junrinan, he knew only this world, and from what Granny had told him, ten years here likely felt like a year in the World of the Living.

He let’s her go on and on with her list, but when she comes to an end, breathless, she says, “Do Souls know how long they’ll live for?”

He lets out a bewildered snort. “Of course not!”

“Oh…” That dampens her enthusiasm, as if he’d popped a bubble. Before he can feel any guilt, she turns her attention back to the silhouette of the Seireitei in the distance. “So, I guess this means the Shinigami in there have been alive for a long time then.”

He shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

It’s several heart beats later when her grin returns, but there’s a softness to it. “I hope we get to live for over a thousand years.”

He’s taken aback. We? Why 'we'? Why not ‘I’?

He wants to ask, but fears he’ll embarrass himself. So instead, he ponders on it in silence as she continues to admire the Seireitei’s silhouette. Did she mean it as a friend? That she saw them being in the future together?

Granny had been the only person who saw a future with him, planning their days with what items he’d have to go out and buy and what shrines or places they needed to visit together in the coming month.

Something about another seeing him in their future made bite the inside of his lip against the painful pang in his chest. Somehow, though, it also made him happy.

“What if we did?”

He hadn’t realised he’d asked the question aloud until Momo swivels her head back to him. “Hm?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“You mean if we live for over a thousand years?” He cringes inwardly as she considers. Her grin widens after a beat. “We’d have a lot to do, I’m sure of it!”

____________________________

Momo stares mutely at Toshiro, and then at some point, through him, and then into nothing. He shifts his gaze to the side, staring hard at the corner of the training room.

Just behind them, Fifth and Tenth Division officers shared a meal together in one of Tenth Division’s courtyards around a fire, chattering and laughing amongst themselves. Even in her shock, Momo ended up hearing her captain laugh loudly at one of his own jokes, but she can’t bring herself to smile or cringe.

She and Toshiro sit by the training room's entrance, mostly in the shadows. A strip of moonlight comes between them through the doorway, falling over his left foot and her folded knees. He sits half against the wall, his left knee bent and his arms resting in his lap. It would appear to some as the most relaxed he’s ever looked, but this is one of the few times she’s seen him look resigned.

He’d just recounted to her how a Quincy had taken control over him with her blood, and then how Mayuri had restored him. It had all made sense up until that point, but not what he’d just said. No, it was more like she didn’t want the sentence to be true, refused to let it be a part of what he'd already said.

She brings her gaze back to him as a small tremor runs through her hands. “I don’t understand,” she struggles to say. “What do you mean? How can you live for only three hundred more years?”

She thinks he won’t answer her, too overcome by whatever emotions rush through him. However, he takes a sharp breath in, but continues to stare off to the side. ��Kurotsuchi says that’s at most, but it’s at least one hundred and fifty years. The procedure he used on me was crude by his standards, something he cobbled together while we were battling the Quincy. As a result of that and what the Quincy did to me, my lifespan has been reduced.”

“You’ve acting differently lately --” her voice catches, and her vision becomes misty “-- now I understand why.”

A quiet, strangled sound comes from Toshiro. “Matsumoto thought it was best to tell you.”

And it’s all the confirmation she needs that Rangiku is facing the same tragedy. She must have seen Momo’s dilemma that night they ate out, and decided to make things easier by encouraging Toshiro to tell her. She could cry for that alone, but she won’t; she’ll speak with her later.

She bows over, fisted hands bunching her uniform at the knees. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she laments. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

That strikes something within him. He shifts, his back fully pressing against the wall and moving his foot out of the moonlight. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and she can make out the furrow in his brow twitching and the corner of his mouth dropping into a grimace.

His gaze goes to the ceiling. “I didn’t want to say anything,” he admits. “There’s nothing I can do.”

The catch in his voice is enough to make her move over to him, coming to sit next to him, their shoulders grazing and her knee bumping up against his. She rarely sits so close to him, feeling they should maintain a small distance between them, but this felt right. And judging from his lack of comment or shrugging away, he thinks the same.

“I’m sorry for what I said at the Palace.”

He blinks and finally looks at her. “What?”

She can’t help but be a little relieved he’d forgotten her comment, but winced at having to bring it up now. “I said Hyourinmaru’s Completed Form was a glimpse into the future. How careless of me.”

He shakes his head, but still doesn’t seem to remember. “It’s fine, you weren’t to know.”

“Even so, I should have been more considerate. That form is part of your zanpakuto, not something to be joked about.”

“You were shocked by it, and we’d come out of a battle and Yhwach was defeated, it’s understandable.”

She considers, and then admits, “And we were really tired, I guess.”

That gets a huff of a humoured snort out of him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes or shape his into a faint smile.

The urge to hold his hand comes over her again. Unlike that meeting from a few weeks ago, she doesn’t resist it this time. She takes the one closest to her. It’s the one that been regrown with hojiku-zai, the original lost on the battlefield at the Fake Karkura Town. She doesn’t hold his conventionally, choosing instead to lay her hand on the underside, and her fingers loosely come between his.

She watches him tilts his head down, staring at their hands. Something soft flits over his face, something akin to being pleasantly surprised.

For not the first time, she thinks on how she never imagined all those decades ago he would lose and replace a hand. Just as she’d never imagined what they went through because of Aizen, or the battles they fought against Hollows and Quincy, or the people they’ve lost under their watch. They’d been through so much, perhaps too much for Souls their ages.

Despite the time and effort it will take to rebuild the Soul Society, she had been thinking that peace was finally going to be restored. She was going to be happy again, with her friends and subordinates. She was going to ask Toshiro out to lunches more often, and finally sit with whatever her feelings for him were. The ones she’s can’t put a name too, but feels she’s just on cusp of doing.

Had he thought about these sort of things too? About what he had been through and the future he may not have anymore? If that was the case, it’s no wonder he didn’t want to bring it up. It’s enough for one of her tears to roll out the side of her eye.

She’s quick to wipe it with her free hand, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Toshiro.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps.

She shakes her head. “Why are you apologising? You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, it’s not that. I didn't want to...”

He hesitates, and when he doesn’t continue, Momo finishes it for him. "Hurt me?"

He blinks, surprised she had guessed the rest. It still astounds her that he can't see the good within himself, but always in others.

"You don't need to apologise. When I saw something was bothering you, I wanted to know."

She senses there's more, a second apology he wants to make. When he doesn't, she stares straight ahead.

“We Shinigami are taught and prepared to die in battle for Humans and our friends,” she continues. “If we’re lucky, we can reach an old age with our accomplishments. Thinking about how long we'll live for is not something we're supposed to contemplate, our focus is on our duties and responsibilities. Even so, we’re not meant to die like this. You’re not meant to --”

He snorts again, and the faintest, saddest smile shapes his lips. “You’re not Reio, Hinamori,” he says, and she can imagine in another setting it would be a tease. “And even if you were, you doubt you would have the power to change this. I have accepted it's a likely possibility, and I will plan ahead accordingly. I never thought about how long I would live for --" his shoulders deflate with a shaky breath "-- and I shouldn't."

"Nothing is set in stone," she says, fiercely.

She’s always considered herself an optimist, perhaps to a fault. She remembers being more hopeful for the future when she was younger. Maybe that’s what came with growing up, you lose a little bit of hope every year, and cling to what still remains – foolishly, she suspects some think, but not her.

With a thick swallow, she lists her head up to the ceiling. “You said before that Captain Kurotsuchi was working on a way to restore your lifespan, right?”

“Yes.”

She mirrors the faint smile he'd had moments ago, but in her misty eyes there’s something less fragile. She tightens her grip on his hand. “Then let’s hope he does.”

It doesn’t dissolve his grief and cynicism -- she knows he hates leaving something he feels responsible for in the hands of others, and she can’t imagine what it must feel like to put your life in the hands of Twelfth Division’s captain. She has not words she can offer to console him or give him a new perspective of this. She has her own emotions to deal with too, ones of helplessness and a flickering hope, small but bright.

Her heart throbs when he flips his hand around and interlaces his fingers between hers in a tight grip. It's all they can do for now as a cloud passes over the moon and the laughter continues outside.

[loniface]

As Fate Would Have It

Series: Team Fortress 2

Pairing: Sniper x Scout

Rating: G (for now)

Summary: Chance encounters can happen anywhere, at any time. However, Fate can be a cruel mistress. From the Scout's perspective.

Author's Note: It's been years since I've written anything, but this idea and theme popped into my head recently, demanding to be written into existence. Will be multiple chapters, probably. Be gentle with me.

Chapter 1: I Saw Him Standing There

I will never forget that fleeting moment, as if Fate herself was smiling upon me.  It’s really cliche when you think about it–and think about it, I have!  In fact, I have pictured the scene in my head over and over again for the past week, and it’s driving me absolutely mental.

I suppose I should elaborate.

Picture this: I’m in the subway station on a chilly evening in October.  There’s a few people walking about, so there’s a slight display of activity–a typical fussy child, a man loudly snoring on a bench, some no-name musician strumming a guitar for pocket change, a couple arguing over some mundane issue…  It all blends into a loud hum in my ears, and I’m glad to have worn headphones on my excursion to soften the blow of sound.

One hand is firmly holding a suitcase, the other stuffed in my jacket pocket, and my chin is resting against my scarf as I wait for my scheduled train to arrive.  I’m early today–Ma said it would look better if I arrived in a timely manner.  I told her it wouldn’t make the train arrive or depart any faster, but she insisted, so here I am, standing in the cold breeze with very few possessions tucked away in my luggage.

I got a job offer, you see.  Details are very scarce, but so are the jobs around here, and I can’t expect to live off Ma forever.  So, the best thing I could do was head West–some place called the Badlands, working for a man by the name of Redmond Mann.

I know; it sounds sketchy, but the job promises good pay.  I can figure out the fine print later.  Worst-case scenario, I’m stuck in an office job for a little while.  It’s nothing I can’t handle.

But, back to the important part of the story–I’m huddled against the cold, and I hear the train approaching through the tunnel, so I make a quick, mental checklist of everything.  Toothbrush, check.  Socks, check.  Underwear, ch–wait, did I forget that?  Oh, nevermind, the train’s almost here, so I shake my head and step up to the platform.  Other passengers begin to fill the space around me as our ride begins grinding to a halt.

The doors slide open, and that’s when I saw him standing aboard the train.

He was a tall man–like, really tall.  Ridiculously tall.  Granted, I can easily hover over most people, but this guy made me look average.  He had a face full of scruff, and a frown that would have made the aforementioned infant start wailing in terror.  Curiously enough, he wore yellow-tinted sunglasses and a hat I’ve only seen on television.  He stuck out like a very tall and very sore thumb, but, with my mouth agape, I probably did as well.

And, just like that, our eyes met. And, my heart skipped.  Or, did it jump into my throat?  Either way, it began pummeling the inner wall of my chest something fierce.

The other passengers began filing into the cabin, brushing past the two of us, but it was in a weird, slow-motion kind of way.  At least, it seemed that way to me.  Just like the movies–minus the chorus of angels singing from on high.  Let’s not get too weird about it.

But, what felt like a century was mere moments, and I found myself stumbling for words, as well as the ability to read the strange man’s expression.  Was it confusion?  Aggression?  Annoyance?  Or was he entirely oblivious to my gawking?  Those eyes of his–they bore into my very soul and shook me to the core.

Why did I suddenly want to forget about getting on that train?  But, what was I going to do–run up to a complete stranger and start a conversation about how I could see eternity in his eyes?  Is that what it was?  Was that what I was thinking?

He made a grunting sound and moved a hand to the back of his head, giving a slight scratch to his scalp.  And, then, he shifted to the side and moved past me.  Something about that snapped me back to reality and I grabbed the suitcase I had apparently dropped, quickly moving into the cabin just as the door slid shut.

I whip around, pressing my free hand to the window.  He was still there, still frowning, and still staring at me.  A shift indicated the train was beginning to move, and within seconds, all I could see was the blur of the subway walls.

But, for the duration of that ride, the man’s face would be all I could fixate on.

I readjust my headphones, give a slight sigh, and move to one of the empty seats.  It was going to be a very long night.  And, an even longer trip to New Mexico.  I close my eyes and lean against a very unforgivingly cold rail, but that scowling expression is practically burned into my eyelids.

Why?  Why him?  Why me?  Questions plague my brain, and suddenly, I’m daydreaming about a cozy little cabin somewhere far away from the hustle and bustle of the city.  It’s just the two of us–the strange man and myself–and we’re laying it thick on the domesticated stuff.  We’re sitting at a little table with a checkered tablecloth, finishing a meal of wine and–is it spaghetti?  We’ll go with that.  Either way, our eyes meet once more, but a very peculiar thing happens.

He smiles.

It’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen, one that could have ended world hunger or at least brought forth world peace.  Look, it’s absolutely stunning, alright?  But, then, his mouth opens wide and he lets out a deafening howl, something akin to a train horn.  My eyes fly open and I’m back on the subway train as it signals its next stop.  I look around; people are filing in and out at a rapid pace.  But, my mind is once again going back to that one last image of the strange man’s smile, and I’m suddenly filled with the regret of not being able to see it beyond my imagination.

I sigh again, hiding my now-blushing face in my scarf.  Fate was playing a cruel joke on me today.  She blessed me with a moment and dangled it right above my reach only to yank it away with a vicious smirk.  But, it was dumb of me to think there was anything more to the shared gaze with a complete stranger in the subway on a cold day in the middle of October.  Just coincidence, two people happened to look at one another at the same exact moment…  Time standing still…  How I long to see his smile…  

Goddamnit.  

There was no way around it.  It was love at first sight.

It was a shame I would never see this man again.

[ntzsche9]

So, hi! I'm Verne (they/them), practically a queer elder in my 30s, brand new to tumblr (dunno how I ever missed the boat), and I only ever seem to write in the 20 minutes or so between pulling up to work and clocking in, or when I'm putting my toddlers down for a nap but don't want to crawl out of their beds and address the chores I gotta do while they're out of the way. I've written poetry, prose, and roleplayed in the past but got away from it for years and years, and only recently started writing again. I have notebooks and lists of story ideas but the few things I have fleshed out are mostly silly character-based "what if?" scenarios, because those are the most fun to me. Too many of my stories are me simply wanting to write a scene, developing a bit of a world around it, then losing interest entirely. I hope this blog can change that a bit, help me focus on following through or figuring out how to better develop small ideas into something longer.

Interests:

Post-apocalyptic

Near-future dystopias

Scifi/Fantasy (urban) with magical realism

History/AltHistory (especially lesser-known and marginalized stories)

Horror, dark, violent, and mature themes

Queer everything. I can't write heteros to save my life and I'm not all that sorry about it.

Sexy melodrama and smut with too much plot

Fanfiction (I could read/write Fallout stuff all day)

Some Favorite Authors:

Octavia Butler

Nnedi Okorafor

VE Schwab

Starhawk

Madeline Miller

Ta-nehisi Coates

Becky Chambers

Emma Donoghue

Looking for:

Community, inspiration, other writers to follow, and problem-solving tips in storytelling and sticking to stories when things get tough. I really just need some folks to talk to when working through all the things in my head. Open to the occasional tag but I'm not great at responding.

I have plenty more little bits of nonsense in various states of readability, like character backgrounds, alt-ending scenes, slice-of-life banter between characters, etc. These will be posted under the tag #ntzsche misc

Noteworthy WIPs:

Bad Blood - A Fallout Nuka-World fanfic (#ntzsche Nuka-World)

My longest story is a fanfic, but with a cast of characters largely not in the Fallout 4 DLC. I intend to eventually write this in a way that someone who hasn't played the game would be able to easily read.

Lafayette, the son of a 'retired' raider, left his abusive father to find his place in the world and was taken in by an eclectic trauma-bonded found family that inspires him to be a better person and shows him love he is certain he doesn't deserve. When his father comes across them in a raid, Lafayette is given the offer to join him, and he agrees in order to save the settlement and his little brother. Lafayette finds that being with his dad again, and being the son he always wanted him to be, isn't nearly as difficult as he thought it would be. He struggles to maintain the person he wants to be with the person he suspects he is, all while a cast of scheming raiders, wastelanders, and slaves vie for power in the raider city built within the rusted remains of an amusement park.

Salem's Child (#ntzsche Salem)

A background on one of the lesser Nuka-World characters that I got carried away with.

Andrew Rook doesn't look like his parents. He looks like someone they are desperate to forget. Growing up in post-apocalyptic Salem, Massachusetts has it's perks, though. In a fading settlement run by incompetent men who would rather blame the population of feral black cats for their problems than try to solve them, Andrew and his two best friends build a world in their imagination that shields them from the wretchedness of the wasteland and the people they have to rely on to survive.

Hechizo

Another character background that I would love to expand into a few short stories around.

Mateo Zavala was born in the vibrant and tight-knit community of Navarro. His great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, a pre-war ghoul, is still the ruling matriarch, and it's hard for her not to play favorites when she has over 300 living descendants.

The Crash (#ntzsche Crash)

A what-if real-world rewrite of an event from another story. I just really enjoy writing these two.

Gabe always knew his functional alcoholic roomie would get into a terrible car wreck some day, but he never thought he would be dumb enough to be in the car with him. When the consequences of the wreck threaten to destroy Dave's life, Gabe finds himself doing everything he can to hold those pieces together. The love he harbors for his straight, polyamorous best friend runs deeper than either of them are ready to face, and find that Dave's injury turns their relationship completely on end.

[toreii]

Behind the Scenes: The Magical World Where Villains Shine

Source: App Store

DO NOT REPOST OR UPLOAD ELSEWHERE

“Twisted Wonderland” is a twisted and distorted world where humans who use magic and mysterious things coexist. Led by the magic mirror, and lost in this distinct world, you search for a way to return to your original world, but it seems it is not easy.

What awaits is a prestigious magician training school called “Night Raven College”, and students who are always causing trouble. In a school with seven dormitories related to the legends of their predecessors called “Great Seven”, you will be involved in one turmoil after another.

Based On Disney’s Villains

The great attraction of this work is that the seven dormitories and magicians in the school are drawn based on the villains that appear in Disney animation works and their world views.

The seven dormitories at Night Rave College are Alice in Wonderland, The Lion King, The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Snow White, Hercules, and Sleeping Beauty. Some people may immediately recognize the faces of the formidable villains who stood in the way of the hero.

For example, Riddle Rosehearts, the housewarden of Heartslabuyl dormitory, which was created in the image of Alice in Wonderland, sticks strictly to following the rules, and punishes those who break them. His personality is similar to the Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland, and the personalities of the dorm students around Riddle also mirror the card soldiers surrounding their queen.

Yana Toboso’s passion that gave birth to the original idea and characters

Where did the ideas for the world and characters of “Disney Twisted Wonderland” come from? Yana Toboso, who is also a manga artist, holds they key to creating the creative elements.

“I love constraints and enjoy aiming for the best despite the hurdles”

Original draft, main scenario, character design: Yana Toboso

“Before receiving this offer, I had turned down long term project proposals because I still have a serialized manga called “Black Butler”. I liked the characters, so without hesitation, I replied, “I’ll do it!” Even the editor in charge of the manga said “You’ll definitely get it” before seeing the project, like something from a foreign drama, and it really turned out to be true.

What’s more, at that stage, we hadn’t decided what to make other than a game with villains as the theme, so we began planning with Aniplex (the planning and production company). At first, I thought when you think of Disney, you think of Hollywood. Since Disney has a number of rules to establish a work that is familiar to young and old around the world, many ideas other than this actor training game were rejected. After that, we came up with the idea of making a school game, which has been recognized overseas as a game genre unique to Japan.”

Ms. Toboso continued to submit plans for about six months until the concept of the game matched the current one. In order to explain the idea, the image of “Twisted Wonderland” was formed while assembling the story, imagining the elements of the game, and drawing pictures.

“Even with manga, I would come up with ideas over and over again until I got the OK from the editor-in-chief, and then work together with the editor in charge to brush it up. I enjoy constraints and enjoy aiming for the best despite the hurdles and decisions in game production. Because it was a pre-developmental game, I could express all the imaginary rhythm games, UI (user interface), battle scenes, etc., with pictures. I think the reason why I was able to clean up “Twst” until the release is that I was able to break through the parts that were difficult to imagine and verbalize with the power of drawing.”

The Message Entrusted to Villains

In the main story of this work, you will get to interact with each of the seven dormitories, and get to know the unique students. In the process, various aspects of their lives are depicted, and sometimes the weaknesses and troubles of the spiteful students secretly harbor come to light. The depth of the story and character modeling is also something Ms. Toboso worked hard on.

“The story and character creation progressed almost simultaneously. The story itself is an homage to the fate of the villains that appear in Disney films, but when placing the characters, it’s no good if the characters or the story come first. While sharing the plot up until the end of the story with Disney first, if only the main plot proceeded it, it tends to become linear and uninteresting, so I built and submitted character makeup and sub-episodes at the same time. It took me a year to start writing the scenario in earnest, repeating the process of having it checked in detail, and fixing what was returned.”

Also, all Disney films have a universal story, so the underlings of the villains are a bit comical and can’t stand up to the boss. I had a hard time giving individuality to the multiple characters I created. For example, when creating four student characters based on the card soldiers from Alice in Wonderland, or the poison apple itself from Snow White. I specifically put myself in the position of a card soldier, tried to feel like an apple, wrote it down, and complied it. The apple didn’t want to become a poison apple, but it was forcibly chosen by the Queen because it looked the most delicious among the fruits in the basket. It’s reluctant. I thought so? And so on.

Then, while we were working out the individuality of each character, we had a thick set-up material for each character before the start of distribution. I asked the voice cast to read it from the stage when there were only two lines during the recording, so I was surprised at the amount of information.”

What happens when the villains confront their weaknesses and stubbornness in Ms. Toboso’s story? It contains a positive message we want users to feel.

“The origin of Disney films is a happy ending with good deeds and love, but I think villains are people who aren’t saved in the story. That’s why I intend for the message in the game to be that even if we are defeated and have a bad end, let’s live without being discouraged by it.

Being uncool, undisciplined, not reflecting, being defiant, are not so bad as they say. I want to depict positively about not caring about others, and live honestly with myself. People living in modern society are afraid of failure or feel living with great care, but there is no one without flaws. Trying to live without being hated by anyone is exhausting, isn’t it?”

Original Culture Woven With Costumes

One of the elements of “Disney Twisted Wonderland” is the character costume. Ms. Toboso expresses the difficulty of creating completely original costumes for each of the seven dormitories, while interpreting the world of the films that serve as the source of the image as clothing.

“The design started with dormitory clothes that were inspired by the world of the original work. Different countries, cultures, and eras exist side by side in a single school, so while it is modern, I aimed to create a feeling that each carries their respective world view. In addition, we checked repeatedly to make sure we avoided plagiarism of cultures, or imitate existing fashion brands. In fact, I drew a number of costume proposals close to three times that of those adopted in the game.

For example, with the Pomefiore dormitory uniform for Snow White, the more elements were added, the more the impression and image of the classical animation were separated. It was difficult, and as a result, instead of just thinking about the elements, I decided to rebuild from the silhouette. By intentionally incorporating the elements of kimono, which Japanese think of as classical, I ended up with a design that gives off a simple yet luxurious impression of “Snow White”.

Also, with the dormitory uniform of Diasomnia dorm in Sleeping Beauty, I wanted to incorporate into the design the relationship of Maleficent and Goon, a minion wearing black armor. So, the material is made of leather, and both classical and hard. Furthermore, at the time of design, I incorporated harnesses (belts for the body) that were trending in the high fashion world.

While being conscious of today’s high fashion, it is important to express the unique culture of “Twst” in event costumes and so on. For example, in event costumes for “Harveston’s Kelkkarotu” and “Sunset Savanna’s Tamashina-mina”, we did not reinterpret existing ethnic costumes, but rather started setting the history of clothing that can be considered from local sunshine hours and climate.

Because it is a land with heavy snow, and short hours of sunshine, people spend more time indoors, and the culture of embroidery is developed. Or, in hot lands, fabrics like cotton or hemp that are breathable are probably dyed, so the color will be like this. This way, I design the culture and history of textiles in the world of “Twisted Wonderland”.

There are also other costumes that have been repeatedly checked and modified over the course of nearly two years. Costumes are often summoned with money, so I think that it has to be of a quality that makes you think you actually bought it at a fashionable department store. In addition, the D-6th staff (in my office) has a professional qualification in dressmaking and patterning, so even the back style, and how to put it on and take it off are designed so you can actually wear it. However, since this is a world with magic, I value not only reality, but fantasy and dreamy designs. If the parts are sewn on, it would be awkward, so let’s stick them together with magic.”

The Magnificent Story of Twst

Since its release in 2020, the world of “Twisted Wonderland” in which you, the main character, is lost, has shown a magnificent development along with the main story written by Ms. Toboso. Ms. Toboso talks about the passion from the creation and developmental scenes.

“I had never drawn anything but manga, and my main target audience was women. Aniplex, which does not have a lot of game production experience, and f4samurai, which handles development and management on site, took on the challenge of creating a genre work for the first time. I think one if the reasons for this is that the distance between the three companies is close. Each meeting is fun. It’s not like I’m working backwards from game production, but I’m not surprised by my ideas. It feels like we’ve been doing trial and error together for a long time.

The story, which has 35,000 characters in book 1, has become a volume of over 250,000 characters by book 6. Up to book 3, the users probably didn’t have a lot of feelings yet about the characters, so first, I made it compact so that they could understand the world of “Twst”. However, when it was actually released, I felt that the players read the story more than I expected. So now, I am writing with a denser amount of information than I anticipated during the preparation period. From now on, not only on the vertical and horizontal axes of the story, but also the spread of elements such as the present, past, and future will be incorporated, and the scale will be quite large. Please look forward to book 7 (currently available up to part 2)!

As I write the story, I think that if you can deepen mutual understanding without bending yourself, or if you can think flexibly, the villain will surely be insanely strong. The foundation of this game is to become stronger by understanding the way of thinking of others who are different from you, and by understanding their strengths and weaknesses. It may be similar to our stance in making this game. I think I’ve become stronger since I’ve been involved with the development of “Twst”. As a manga artist, it was my first challenge to create a game. I was surprised at first where my special skills were no good, the team members were meeting for the first time, we weren’t used to the culture of the game industry, and were judged strictly from the perspective of a global game rather than the entertainment unique to Japan. As a result, even if one method doesn’t work, instead of conflicting, we can change the method and challenge it.

In the story, they are villains, so they don’t admit defeat, but they admit to each other “You’ll do it.” Even if we dislike each other, we can still recognize each other’s abilities. We will continue to create games with an unwavering spirit of villains, and we hope that our users will continue to enjoy it.”

[sugoi-and-spice]

I want to hear your director cut on your beach episode (aka the company Pool party)

Ooooh glad you specified since there are technically two beach episodes in this series (so far lmao).

I assume you're talking about Chapter 8: Sink or Float

And what a fun choice!

First little Director's Note, I 100% came up with this chapter concept and wrote it all, forgetting how weather works. And that maybe a waterpark luncheon in NOVEMBER actually was kind of a stupid concept.

This didn't bump me when I was first writing it, because I'm born and raised in Southern California - Amusement Parks and outdoor pools don't close seasonally here. Technically I think the bigger water parks like Hurricane Harbor and Raging Waters close in October through December, but a lot of the smaller local ones stay open year round. And the outdoor pools certainly do too.

(I actually only found out that Amusement Parks close seasonally at all when I tried to go to Coney Island in November about two years ago... Whoops lol)

Shit's a lot colder in Tokyo in the fall though - trust me, I've experienced it.

So I flirted very heavily with the idea of scrapping the episode, which was really devastating since I had a lot of fun with the scenario, and I think the episode has some of the finest Shigaraki/MC banter in the fic.

But then I remembered that there are a lot of indoor amusement parks, and specifically waterparks in Japan, so it worked out!

(You have Ouran High School Host Club to thank for that reminder, lol)

Next Director's note! Back when Play Nice was only going to be about a 10 to 15 chapter fic, this chapter was actually earlier in the lineup - it was originally Chapter 6. I actually wrote it before the current Chapter 7: Getting Steamy, and the current Chapter 6: Struck a Nerve was originally slotted to take place after the water park episode.

Buuuut, when I was reading it all together (Chapter 1 to Chapter 6).... ehh, it just didn't feel right. It felt like this playful banter and more friendly, teasing dynamic between the two of them was happening just a little too quick. So I swapped chapter orders, and speed-wrote Getting Steamy in about 3 days so that I could still make my upload schedule (lol, remember when I had a biweekly upload schedule?)

Truthfully, re-reading the series now, I wonder if the shift in their dynamic still happens a little too fast. If I were to do this fic all over again, I'd probably add a couple more chapters between Sink or Float and Chapter 10: Tomurau, extend the exploitation dynamic for longer, and add a few more of the relationship-shifting moments between the two. Buuuut, I also was really freaking excited for Tomurau (which is still one of my favorite chapters), and I also had so much fun writing a friendly/teasing dynamic between the two in Sink or Float, I think I was eager to do more of that, so I get why I made the decision that I did at the time. Oh well! You live and you learn!

Another director's note about this chapter - I changed the ending of it about three different times lol.

There definitely was originally a locker room sex scene, and then in another version, the episode ended with MC storming out on Shigaraki, rather than him storming out on her, but ultimately, I decided that this final version was the best way to keep up the theme of vulnerability that I was building in this chapter, as well as to develop sympathy from MC throughout, that would serve as a better turning point in their relationship, rather than a brief moment of understanding that is ruined by Shigaraki's horniness. When I had that version written, it just felt like it set them back too much in their relationship, realistically. It also would've doubled the chapter length (like that matters now though, hello my new standard of 30 page chapters 😅)

So yeah! Those are my big Director's Notes on Chapter 8: Sink or Float!

This was a lot of fun to write and reflect on, considering this Chapter came out, gosh, coming up on two years ago now. (WTF?!)

So yeah, if this was interesting to y'all, feel free to send me other chapters or fics that you'd like to hear some commentary on! Original prompt is here!

[faeriecinna]

WIP Questionnaire

Thank you for the tag @buffythevampirelover !

Project.Seraph :)

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

The character of Nevaeh was my leap of faith into this one. Previously I had only ever really written horror/thriller and I had always been too afraid to create my own fantasy world, but for some reason I just couldn't leave the idea of my broken little angel alone. The more I imagined her in different scenarios and fleshed out different characters and a plot, I knew I had to write it seriously or I'd never forgive myself.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Honestly I really fuck with Plenty by Aeseaes for this one. The whole vibe is immaculate and it really encapsulates the mood of the story through the lyrics.

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

I truly love them all for different reasons (except maybe Marco, fuck you Marco.) Though Nevaeh is my sweet innocent angel baby could never do anything wrong ever loml, and Queen Reinette is a favourite because I adore a good villain and I am very proud of the way I've written her character.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

I'm hoping the same kind of people who tore through Cassandra Clare's The Mortal Instruments will find my books to be worth of a good read. Also my fellow 'Merlin made me realise I was queer' pals. Not quite as high fantasy but I think P.Seraph is sometimes quite reminiscent of The Witcher too.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

There are so many scenes that I've already imagined and desperately want to write, so writing everything in between to bridge the scenes together is so painful lmao. What do you mean I have to write about the journey to the castle before I get to write my big dramatic inciting incident???

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

A lot of the first half is based in the woodland so many animals are encountered, though crows and various other corvids are a recurring motif. Also a lot of horses! Most characters travel by horse, including my little band of travelling thieves and the Queen's guards. In the marketplace there is also a very well known cat that belongs to the tavern-owner and likes to steal from people's stalls lmao

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Mostly by foot, by horse, or by a carriage drawn by a horse.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

Still the first draft rn but it's coming along smoothly. I have also been writing Project.Ink and fleshing out Project.Claw so I haven't been dedicating quite as much time to P.Seraph as I would like.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

Who doesn't love a good enemies to lovers, right? This story absolutely reeks of betrayal, dark royalty, doomed love, war.... idk it has everything in it that I wanted to read all in one story and I hoped some people could relate

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

Obviously, I hope to be published one day, and if it is, my hope is that it will be one of those books that leaves people reeling after they've read it. I want people to connect to it, to cry over it, to read it so many times it doubles in size. I want people to be as violently in love with my characters as I am and I want people to relate to the story in whichever way they see fit. I want it to mean something to someone. One day. Eventually.

no pressure tags for @melpomene-grey, @goldxdarkness, @darkangel319 :)

Blank under the cut

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

[callmetippytumbles]

tagged by @gardenoblues

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagging: @therulerofallpotatos @realmermaid333 @the-strangest-person @suchaladyy @wincestation

WARNING: THERE MIGHT BE SMUT YOU WOULDN'T WANT TO CAST YOUR EYES ON.

Random WIPs

Wyler YOU-Cursed Yarn Store

This is fic that is kind of combining a prompt about a cursed yarn store I saw on the discord. I started to combine it with another fic I have been thinking about that has elements of YOU. I think having Tyler be an obsessive stalker and a hyde being at the root of the murders would add interesting characterization for Tyler within this prompt. This is an everyone is all grown up adult AU. This is just an outline right now. No actual fic for this exists yet.

YOU - Wyler AU Outline

Yep its the outline for a YOU fic I was thinking of but no cursed yarn store. I did an outline to get it out of my system but I don't think this one will ever come to pass since the outline is very much a shoehorn Wednesday's characters into YOU character archetypes and storylines which didn't feel right. Some aspects of this may make it into the Cursed Yarn Store story but this project on its own will probably not be developed further. I like taking some of the themes of YOU like stalking, obession etc and exploring those but I don't want to force the stories together more than that.

Wyler Nocturne ExFiles AU Outline

Kind of what it says on the tin. This is the outline for a fic idea that is a mix of a video game called Nocturne and The Ex Files. It's basically an AU where an adult Wednesday gets recruited to work for a clandestine department of the CIA that specifically investigates crimes and bizarre occurances that involve outcasts and the supernatural. Tyler is also recruited to this unit. Of course they are made to be partners and they have to investigate cases together. Hilarity ensues. It obviously takes aspects of the Mulder/Scully relationship as well as the supernatural elements from The Ex Files and Nocturne. The fic will have a kind of episodic format where every 4-5 chapters make up 1 episode. There are 4-5 episodes total and 1 fic (with all of the chapters) is equal to one season. This is also still a outline. I have a lot more research to do before I can even think of starting to write anything more. If you are going to put Ex Files as an influence of your fic, a show that is a big influence on shipping culture in general let alone the actual Mulder/Scully ship itself; I feel like there are certain notes that you have hit to get that influence right. Since my understanding of the relationship aspect is so distant for me, I have to study up. If I can get my shit together, this really could be a fun one.

Dick2Bomb Wyler hate sex fic

Kind of started as a drabble inspired by some quotes on the discord server. Kind of is a one off set in same world as the Nocturne/Exfiles fic. Was supposed to just get the smut out of my system for this fic while everything else came together, but didn't get too far in the scene. This is kinda in limbo.

Some - Tyclay One Shot

If I could work out the smut for this one, this is almost done. This is actually a what if scenario where I kind of play with the idea what would happen if Bianca and Tyler were to interact more in that scene where Bianca gets Wednesday's snood in the Weathervane. Like what would happen if they were more flirty. I really wanted an excuse to write more for Bianca and kind of let her exist as a central romantic protagonist paired with someone who can truly see her.

Yours, Mine and Ours

A Wyclay fic that is named after that song that took over the tikytoks for like an entire season. It starts out more as a Tyclay fic but changes when Wednesday shows up and both Tyler and Bianca express an interest in her. Some is actually an alternate first chapter for this fic. This is essentially a series of strung together one-shots that kind of explore how these people interact with each other. There isn't an actual ending or a big scenario where everyone comes together. Just more a meandering exploration of how their relationships intertwine and overlap. If I were to finish writing out everything outlined, I would just publish that and leave it.

Left for Dead fic

This is another fic that started out as a Wyler discord prompt fill, I wrote an outline for it, then...*nothing*

The story takes place basically assuming that Tyler does help Wednesday escape, Laurel gets what she wants from Tyler and leaves him for dead. Wednesday finds him. Hilarity ensue. This story jumps all over the place time wise. Like all over. Some chapters are pre-canon, some chapters are in canon, some are well outside of the story.

Wyler TBN Bodyguard AU

Discord Prompt Fill...(I am sensing a theme here)...That I outlined but didn't develop further. The general premise of the prompt is that Wednesday needs a bodyguard because her family is in danger but Wednesday doesn't want one because she feels she is capable of handling any threats by herself. So she arranges to get rid of all of the ones her parents get for her until Tyler comes along and of course she cannot get rid of him. Hilarity ensued. I think the initial framework for this fic was there, it was just the details that I couldn't workout without extensive research and planning. The main blocker was definining the villain and crafting the mystery that is on the peripheries of the story was just not coming together in a way that I liked. It didn't help that I decided that my little Bodyguard AU story had to have a theme where everyone's fatal flaw was tied into how they deal with the past (Wednesday refuses to let go, Tyler is so determined to redeem himself he cannot engage with the present, and Morticia romanticizes her past so much she is constantly trying to relive it). This is a story that I think I have to level up my writing overall to write it but if I did it would be good. If I didn't enjoy bumming around with my free time so much I could work on this. Though my free time is kind of shrinking everyday because of all of the stuff I have to do this year. There is a speech I wrote for Tyler in this fic that lowkey needs to be repeated almost verbatim in Wednesday Season 2. Y'all have to ask me about that one.

Untitled Essay/Thesis/Dissertation on Bad Boys

This started as a conversation on discord after reading tornadodream's fic All the Punches I'd Throw in the Name of Someone I Don't Even Know. Me and a couple of other people were marveling at how well Hyde!Tyler was executed and how much precision it takes to craft that is both romantically viable but still a credible threat to the lead. My feelings about this particular thing was becoming so strong that I started an essay that is essentially what makes a "good" Bad Boy figure. I think I just had too many other things to do that day so after I got the initial thoughts down when I had to change focus, this got left in the dust. I should get back to it though. Reading it over, I feel like I wasn't too far from wrapping it up. I should get on that.

A.B.O. Fic WIPs

All of these WIPs are related to an A.B.O. fic I have been working on here and there for about 6 months now. Each document is a separate chapter and while some of the chapters are at least completed first-drafts, others have yet to be written. While I feel like if I start working on the early chapters and preparing them to publish I feel like I could finish the series, I also don’t want to start posting anything until everything at least has a first draft. (I would feel bad for leaving people without a resolution if I just posted the parts I have.) The general premise for these fics are that during the events of Season 1, Wednesday (an omega who hasn't presented) and Tyler (an alpha who keeps both his alpha and outcast status a secret) are inextricably attracted to one another and affect each other deeply on a biological level but circumstances and what happens between them pretty much keep them from getting together. They have a chance meeting again 10 years later and the attraction/chemical biological urges are still there, but because their past is unresolved they feel unable to give in to what they want: each other. Each chapter has a past section (read: reframing canon events in this story) and a present section how the past is influencing their behavior in the now, primarily the resistance to give into their desires.

ABO Wyler Fic - Preamble

Was the first chapter of the fic, now definitely just where a combo version of a past pov section for Tyler that combines both their first meeting and that kiss in the Weathervane. Definitely other than the notes on the POV, this will not be in the final fic.

ABO Wyler Fic - Alternate Preamble

Currently this is the actual first chapter of the fic. Past part, Tyler being in Nevermore for the Rav'N. Present part, Tyler being in Nevermore again as a caterer for a alumni fundraiser, Wednesday is forced to attend by her mother. They end up seeking refuse in the same closet. Chapter end.

ABO Fic - Preamble - Morticia

Morticia POV section where she waxes poetic on the nature of fate. May be a seperate opening chapter, may be the intro to chapter 1.

ABO Wyler Fic - Chapter 1

Fun fact: This is definitely not the first chapter anymore. It's more like Chapter 3. This has smut gallore. The past part is Wednesday's perpective on how that kiss in the Weathervane is what makes her present as an omega and she goes into heat. This is immediately followed by her learning about Tyler's lies and betrayal. In the present Wednesday experiences her first heat since that time after being so close to Tyler again. Tyler is also dealing with going to rut poorly and they decide to hookup to get through their heat/rut but nothing more. Need to finish the actual smut part of this chapter.

ABO Wyler Fic - Chapter 2

Was also at one point Chapter 1, pretty sure it's 2 now. Past part: Wednesday's and Tyler's first meeting at the Weathervane from Tyler's perspective. Present: Tension quickly builds in that closet when that attraction and biology bring them together again.

ABO fic - Kiss Heat

This file is kind of a dumping ground for two past sections. One that I have yet to add (Tyler's POV on what happened at the Weathervane that night/what happened the next time they met up). The other I think I reworked or took out entirely.

[miyakuli]

To the Moon

Fly Me to the Moon

To the Moon is a narrative point & click game in which you follow Eva and Neil, two scientists who, with the help of a rather special machine, delve into the memories of a dying old man in an attempt to fulfill his last wish. Although the gameplay is almost non-existent, the strength of this game's writing makes it a very touching experience, and will definitely bring tears to your eyes.

❤ A very well-constructed scenario that could have lapsed into cheesy and sappy simplicity, but which, instead, gradually distills poetic and moving moments in an intelligent and relevant way. And it works excellently: the emotion is strong and touching. ❤ The scientist duo have great chemistry; they're sometimes funny, sometimes touching, and even surprise us at times, because at first you might think that their personalities would just be linear and "cliché", but that's not the case at all. A great dynamic duo! ❤ Obviously, the music. The various themes perfectly accompany the scenes, from the most goofy to the most moving, and are quite memorable. The closing song is equally beautiful. ❤ I expected to cry but not to laugh. The humor is very well balanced and the various references hit the mark every time.

+/- The graphics are a little dated, although I love the pixel art style. On the other hand, the art direction ideas coupled with the little animations make the whole thing very dynamic and expressive. Just goes to show that even simplicity is enough to bring a game to life.

✖ Although the storyline is the game's main asset, I just wish that at least the memento puzzles had been a little more complicated, at least to exercise our neurons :p Also, some of the other puzzles weren't very mouse friendly. ✖ No settings for graphics or volume… (✖ On Steam, a glitch to get the end-game achievement, which has to be unlocked manually. I'm kinda lazy xD)

Now that I've finally played it, I understand its reputation as a "game that makes you cry", because I myself let myself be carried away by this beautiful story and all its emotions, and like John, I'll keep very fond memories of it.

➡ My Steam page

[adamwatchesmovies]

Nope (2022)

Nope once again confirms Jordan Peele as one of the most interesting storytellers working in Hollywood. Once you learn what this movie is, you think you know in which direction it’s headed but you’re dead wrong. Even if you think you know what tone Nope is going for, you’re wrong. There are some big surprises within so it's best to go in knowing as little as possible, but if you need more information, read on…

In Agua Dulce, California, Otis “OJ” Haywood Jr. (Daniel Kaluuya) and his sister Emerald “Em” (Keke Palmer) experience a strange power outage. Soon after, they spot an unidentified flying object. After the ship takes away one of their horses, they decide to record the UFO and sell evidence of its existence.

This isn’t the classic horror alien abduction story you think it is. I wish I didn't have to tell you this so the turns this film takes would be even more surprising. Then again, I also don’t want you going into Nope thinking you’ll get one thing when you’re actually getting another. I will tell you that this is a horror movie - at least for the most part. The UFO is frightening, particularly once you realize what it’s doing with the things it abducts.

There’s another scary idea at play here too, which is where the film’s title comes from. Now more than ever, our culture is obsessed with looking at and documenting things. Countless people have achieved fame and fortune without any “talent”. They've simply shot something that went viral and managed to turn that luck into gold. Everyone wants that because it seems so easy. This has made us all a little bit more prone to horror-type scenarios. When you see something weird, how many of us – because we carry high-quality cameras on our persons at all times – might go “Let me start shooting” instead of saying “Nope!” and following our instincts to run away? Haven’t we spent years telling people in horror movies NOT to investigate because we know there’s something scary making that noise? That’s what Nope is about. It’s about people who see this dangerous thing and say “I can profit off of this” when they should know better.   This theme is echoed in a subplot that is gripping… but arguably unnecessary. Steven Yeun plays Ricky “Jupe” Park, a former child actor who has been exploiting an on-set tragedy from his early career for years. When you hear whispers of the horrifying incident, you desperately want to know how it went. It’s all told in flashback so you know he makes it out alive but you forget all about that as the scenes play out. It's a great side story and it fits in with the theme but this film is also 130 minutes, and I’m not sure it needed to be. The other “flaw” is the tone of Nope. The film shifts from one kind of story to another so much that by the end, it almost feels like you’re watching a completely different film. I say almost because the shift is logical, it’s organic and it makes sense based on the characters. I love that I had no idea how the movie was going to end but some people who are accustomed to more traditional forms of storytelling will likely feel like they got sold something different than was advertised.

Like Jordan Peele’s other films, you could sit down for hours talking about Nope. Its characters, what each little detail means, the stories within the story, the reinvention of ideas we thought we’d seen mined all the way through, the performances, cinematic techniques, and more importantly, the way it explores its themes of exploitation and spectacle. There is a lot to digest here, which makes it a rewarding film. While repeat viewings will not have the same impact as that first watch because the surprises are so important, there is so much going on here that there’s no way you can catch all of Nope in one go. (February 12, 2023)

[card-queen]

Story Craft: Process

Okay, so this post is gonna be brief but will hopefully help you if you start to feel overwhelmed. As I started to play my world-building post, I realised that I would need to touch on a lot of plot aspects because of how interconnected everything ends up.

But that's the key: ends up.

My fantasy story looks completely different to how it started. It's gone through deep, deep revisions and just slowly ship of Theseus'd itself into something almost new. My detective game on the other hand has barely changed, I've had a stronger idea of where I wanted things to go from the start and have only added new things that tease out character ideas, plotlines, conflict and drama.

Plot, basically. These are cool scenes and set pieces you imagine. They could come from your own imagination and desires, like when you close your eyes and day dream, when you're listening to music and envision cool scenes, betrayals, twists, reveals, fights scenes, cool encounters, rescue missions, etc. Of they could come from being inspired by other things you've seen. "I loved that scene and want to do something like it in my own story", "I hated that scene, it should have gone this way", "I thought there were going to go somewhere else with that scene and now I'm disappointed", etc.

Events, plotlines and themes are just skeletal frameworks: they're entirely universal, but they all have requirements that need to be met to work properly. All you need to do is look over the event, theme or plotline with a technical eye. "What underlying components are in play to make this theme/plotline/event have impact to me?"

While there is no one-size-fits-all solution to breaking down events to their core components, there are a number of things you can look at and see if they play a part. (I'll be using 'scene' as a catchall term here but this can apply to many different aspects of plot). This is especially helpful if you're starting from an Inspiration point and adapting an idea you liked/were disappointed in for your own story! Surface Details. Look over the scene and analyse it. What elements are at play, either obviously or under the surface? The characters in play often hand backstories and mindsets, so scrape away all the details and hone in on what the result is. Does the character need to be so cautious they don't trust anyone so that their rescue comes as a joyous surprise, or or focused entirely on work so they never see the budding romance, or rich and naive so that their betrayal comes as a complete shock? What about the situation between characters? Former friends and now bully & victim, or two battlefield generals on opposite sides of a conflict, or a group of co-workers who make nice and do what they can to get along being forced into a dangerous situation that relies on cooperation? And the emotional flow of events? Peaceful daily life that turns into a natural disaster scenario, or a serial killer on the loose in a quiet village, or all of the characters have been kidnapped and are in an unknown locations? Use generic words. The flavour comes from what you add, but to add flavour properly, you gotta understand the tools in your hands.

Power Balance. Does the scene use control or shifting control? Something like a betrayal, rescue scenes, reinforcement scenes, joining forces with a villain, or revealing a secret have an underlying battle of power and control. The scenes themselves often hinge on a reversal of power to have impact. Find where the power is and how it changes hands.

Realisation. This can be for the characters or the audience. We should take special care when there is a perception change at play. If we or the characters come to a startling realisation in this scene, you look over what the perception was, what the new perception is and how the change took place. (This slide's a little more vague but just.. just go with me on it)

Characters, basically. This works similar to plot. Where does your inspiration come from: something you saw or something you came up with? In my experience, those are the two places inspiration for ideas comes from. Whatever your origin point, I offer the same advice of cracking open the character and taking at peek see at the core components that get that character being ratings. Here are couple of VERY OLD slides from my early character work, but it should give you some confidence and ideas that things can evolve.

In this, you can see I use monikers like 'the honourable mage', 'merc boss' and 'wandering noble' but also refer to characters by their inspirations, like Dimitri & Felix (Fire Emblem: Three Houses). No one really has to know or see your behind-the-scenes work files, where you take inspiration is your business. I often refer to characters by their moniker or placeholder name based on their inspiration until I find a name that suits them.

This next slide is interesting because it shows that even back then, I had components in mind.

Inspirations is obviously what I refer back to when I keep thinking of their core concept. It's what helps me write the flavour text and description, and would probably be used in conjunction with typology for me these days. The Aspects part is a term I got from the FATE system of RPG books and I use it here to explain a strong core piece of the character in a term or phrase. These Aspects should be clear on their own and give you an idea of how the trait can be used to win the day or cause things to come to a crashing halt, how it can be used to create comedic scenes and have it can be used to win people over. It's important to find balance in your characters. A new rule I have in creation is 'You gotta know how your character is gonna eat shit'. I like to see the comic potential and dramatic potential in all my characters. If a character doesn't eat shit, they seem special and above the rest. Are they too good to make mistakes, be over the top or be funny to use? Think in three dimensions, friends.

Setting, basically. These are the great facilitators. They are the unsung heroes that nonetheless, must remain mostly unsung. Parts of the world and setting are of the backdrop and instigator of events, carry the physical embodiment of theme, provide resistance, encouragement and biases for characters. You often put a lot of work into world-building but if you share to much of it, it becomes a never-ending wall of text, a slew of infodumping. But by tying your aspects of your world-building and setting into aspects of the story or character.

I like to think of story creating in a node-based way. It's all about outlets and inputs. This is a very, veeeery basic example but check out this image.

It's a simple diagram for the components of a betrayal. We supply two characters and stakes. And in the case of things like countries or groups being factors in the betrayal, then I highly recommend having a representative from the group or nation that is the architect or at least responsible for the betrayal in some way. This is one of the MAJOR problems I have with games like Fire Emblem: whole countries start behaving like a single person and the action ends up feeling hollow and the world empty (FE4, I am staring at you specifically). We can, of course, feed more into the action device: emotions, stability, power, objects within the story, characters within the story, etc. But we're keeping it simple here: two character plus stakes in, the results for the betrayed and the results for the betrayed. These components can join into other events, decisions and moments. The newly empowered stance of the betrayer might been the actions he needed to take to get the money to propose to the Princess, so he could get closer to the Prince and carry out an elaborate revenge plot against he man who killed his entire family. The newly weakened stance of the betrayed might end up with her on the run and seeking new allies in places she would have dismissed in her earlier life, granting her new perspectives and showing her the world she never knew.

Keep these words in mind when creating: "...but..." "...and therefore..."

Nothing ends unless you say it ends. Everything can get worse or get better. Events, characters, themes, plotlines, setting, and systems all form a kind of butterfly effect where things happen because of what came before and will affect what comes after it. By taking out elements or feeding new details into them, you get a slightly different outcome. And things will change over time to fit better, more cleanly, take you in new directions, better directions, revisited directions -- it'll be a journey. And a fun one, if you let it be.

Happy creating.

Want more writing advice? Check out this post!

[theinstagrahame]

It's time for the Monthly-ish Mail Call Hype Post!

Another set of awesome games I've gotten in the mail, and why I'm hype about them. Because people out there making rad stuff and I'm super into it!

It was a pretty big month. A lot of stuff arriving coincidentally at the same time, not all from crowdfunds, but still a really exciting collection. Let's dive in!

Beam Saber: I've played this one, and just started a campaign. Plus listening to Friends at the Table play it in Partizan (Which I legitimately cannot recommend highly enough). Mech Anime Forged in the Dark! It's genuinely a fantastic game.

Coriolis: A friend in a Discord server was clearing some room on their shelves before moving, and offered a few titles up. I wound up with three of them, this and the next two. Initially, they told me the box would only fit two, so I debated between Coriolis and DCC, and ultimately picked Coriolis because the sci-fi universe it takes place in seemed unique compared to what I've really experienced. An exploration-driven, Middle Eastern-inspired universe sounded really fascinating.

Dungeon Crawl Classics: I first became aware of DCC early in my TTRPG career, and was honestly mostly intrigued by DCC because of its use of Weird Dice; D3s and D5s and whatnot. I've heard mostly good things about it, and haven't done nearly enough Dungeon Crawling in my day, so I was quite pleased when it turned out this would also fit in the Discord Friend's "get it out of my house" box!

Last Fleet: This was the game I'd wanted from the pile. I'd recently backed Wreck this Deck, also by Black Armada, and have played Flotsam. I was intrigued by the pitch for this one, so it was the definite from the Discord friend.

Hull Breach: Mothership took the indie RPG scene by storm, and this book looked fantastic. I still haven't played Mothership, but honestly having this makes it feel like I could just about pick it up and throw anyone in. It's packed with scenarios and extra content, in a really great package.

Animon Story: I've been searching for the right Pokemon-themed RPG for a while. Too many of the ones I have seen spend a lot of time on the combat system, which I honestly find the least exciting part of the franchise. I want to explore and meet cool little guys. I confess I haven't read this one, but what I've heard of it sounds way more inspiring than most of the ones I've looked into.

The Hexcrawl Toolbox: I have The Bottled Sea and the Undying Sands from Games Omnivorous (Plus Vaults of Vaarn and Isle of Ixx). This box looks like an incredibly expansion of those ideas, and it's such a great package.

Enoch's Wake: Big fan of R. Rook games, ever since I had Richard on my (defunct) podcast to play a session of Moonlight over Roseville Beach. Enoch's Wake is a fresh take on a science-fantasy setting, and I really wanted to dig in and check it out more.

Sanctuary and Sentinel: I've followed Meghan Cross' work in the scene for a while, and it's all great. I love stories about lone sentinels guarding something long beyond the point of its relevance, and listening to how the two games intersect on Party of One really sold me that the Kickstarter had been a good investment.

The Book of Gaub: I will admit, I fall straight into peer pressure. I've heard about the Book of Gaub, heard all good things, and was really intrigued by the premise. It's honestly not even a game supplement per se, as much as it could function as an in-world text and concept, with annotations to make it usable in a game. The writing is fantastic, the art is great, and I really can't wait to find an excuse to bust it out. (I may or may not be trying to squeeze it into that Beam Saber campaign...)

Aberrant Reflections: Another that I'd heard really good things about, but also I had heard the words "puzzle dungeon" used pretty close to it, so I absolutely could not pass it up. It's been a great year for adventure content, so I am intrigued to get stuck into this one.

A Butterfly Dies and Cocoxoca: Primal Quest grabbed my attention because I don't feel like we see a ton of work in the stone age setting. A Butterfly Dies seemed like a really interesting premise, drawing on Mexican myths and murals to give a perspective on that world that I hadn't seen before. Cocoxoca was a pamphlet adventure that I thought would make a fantastic add-on.

Viva la Queer Bar: As someone starting to explore their queer identity, this was honestly a no-brainer. I'm honestly hoping this could be my first Descended from the Queen game played (I've got For the Queen, and have flipped through the cards, but still haven't brought it to the table). Again, heard incredible things about this game, so can't wait to check it out.

Guild: I did say earlier that I've not gotten enough dungeon crawlers in my background. I've been kicking around some Discords with Disaster Tourism in them, and have been watching this grow with interest. It came with so much stuff I really had to, packed a lot into two zines, a bookmark, and a tearaway pad.

[manonamora-if-reviews]

Creating Goncharov by Albie

============= Links

Play the game See other reviews of the game See other games by Albie or follow @gamesbyalbie

============= Synopsis

Everyone knows Goncharov. Martin Scorsese's 1973 film is a cult classic, a true masterpiece of cinema. To celebrate its upcoming 50th anniversary, you, an office drone working at a major media corporation, have to create a pitch for a 2023 remake. It's an amazing opportunity that could launch your career. There's just one problem. You haven't seen Goncharov. Unable to turn down your corporate overlords, you and an indecisive colleague throw together a story based solely on information you can quickly find or invent. How will you reimagine the greatest mafia movie ever made and what will you do to turn your ideas into reality?

============= Other Info

Creating Goncharov is a Twine (SugarCube) game, submitted to the Goncharov Game Jam.

Status: Completed Genre: Unreality, Goncharov, Slice-of-Life, Meta

CW: Unreality, Descriptions of smoking, violence, and death.

============= Playthrough

First Played: 9-Dec-2022 Last Played: 25-Jun-2023 Playtime: around 1h Rating: 4 /5 Thoughts: A deep dive into Goncharov lore.

============= Review

Following the Goncharov (1973) meme storm taking over Tumblr during November 2022, Creating Goncharov takes an alternative reality approach where this fake movie existed - though, you do not remember ever seeing it. Set to create a pitch for a remake, the game takes a deep dive into the lore and the many theories regarding this shitpost. More than that, Creating Goncharov is about finding passion in your work and creating relationships.

Spoilers ahead. It is recommended to play the game first. The review is based on my understanding/reading of the story.

At the beginning, all is dull and irritating. The path to your place of work is slippery from the snow, your desk is in a cubicle nowhere close to natural light, and you expect today to be as boring as every other day you've had so far. 'Tis the life of an office drone. Except...

...you find an interesting proposition from your boss in your inbox - one you cannot refuse* - you are tasked to create a pitch for a remake of Goncharov and 1973 totally real and acclaimed movie, coined as the 'best mafia movie ever created'. Which is great, since you've been trying to get that kind of opportunity. But... you cannot for the life of you remember ever watching that movie. * hahaha like in mafia movies

You are also forced to work with Al*, a co-worker you look down on - even though they are your superior - because you don't believe they deserve their job. Through exchanges with Al, it is not really clear whether they have seen that movie either, or whether they are competent at all (would they take your idea as pass it as theirs?). Still, they have readied some bare bone documentation to help you start. *the author self-insert - do they believe the criticism/jabs they wrote about Al B? I hope not...

There is little time and not much to go on, but you still push through and ready a pitch for your boss by the meeting time. And...

...you fail. But, this was expected, considering your lack of knowledge about the original piece and of concrete information about the plot, themes, or scenes even. As if, you were meant to fail... who gives a remake of a well-loved movie to a newbie...

At this point, you can end... or, if you believe in this remake and your ideas, push through and proclaim you will make the movie by yourself if that's what it requires!

This is where strange things start to happen...

You go to work the next day, and things feel more... vibrant? The air is not as stale, the office is brighter, you even notice other people during your commute. More than that... your computer boots to the same day as before, showing the same unread email as when the game first started.

In some weird Grounghog Day scenario, you are given a second chance at putting your pitch together, retaining (partly) not only your previous found knowledge about the movie but also the (now-edited) documents Al had sent you the day/loop before. Speaking of Al, they are in this loop more forth coming with their view on the project, their knowledge of the movie, and their friendliness toward you.

While the first loop focused on the general overview, discussing the themes, or (re-)naming the characters, this loop gets into the nit and gritty of the plot. You and Al spend hours ironing out some details about the sequence of events and highlighting potential strong points. There is a lot there you can edit, and show off your creative liberties (with cycle links).

But again, this is not enough to sway the investors. You have not gone deep enough. You're still missing something important: you have not pitched the scenes!

And this is where the final loop comes in.

Yet again, the descriptions about your environment changes once more, and you notice how beautiful it is. It is also then that you notice the building's receptionist (and even remember her name and exchange some words!). The people in your mail box also change from jokey puns to actual names - they are not just nameless cogs but actual full human beings.

The exchanges between Al and you are also more developed and much more friendly. You even seem more passionate about the project than you ever were before! Even as you wait for your boss's email at the end of the day, you have the option to do something outside of work, even grow your relationship with Al.

Obviously, this time around, the pitch is a success (on my run at least, it is possible to fail a third time apparently). The movie is made, and wins tons of awards, setting you for a fulfilling career path.

With over 50 thousand words, the game covers most if not all of the "lore" created during this meme craze. In the many edits you can make, it manages to essentially give an overview of what had been discussed on Tumblr about this fake movie*. Depending on your choices, you may see quite a lot of change in variation down the line (inserting Marting Scorceses as your name for example). *with the plot document in the second loop especially, it felt a bit like those Archive documents the community created to keep track of all the lore.

The attention to details is both a major part of the gameplay, enabling you to "win" the game, and of the prose, through the subtle change in the environment/your behaviour outside of work. This is also a major point of the "movie", as recurrent details embodying time, religion, and change, were put in the forefront of the Goncharov discourse.

The change in tone in the interactions between Al and the player throughout the game feel believable, as you become acquainted with them and find a shared passion in the "movie". The exchanges of emails in the third loop is particularly lovely, and the scenes with them while waiting for that final email is quite sweet. Albie has a great command of their writing style in that area.

There were a few icks that made me tick a bit:

While the inclusion of a Martin Scorcese timeline (if you enter your name as MS) garners some fun responses and variation, it felt a bit out of place when other characters behave in the same way they would if the player has chosen any other name. It was funny that Mr. Scorcese failed the pitch, but the joke becomes a bit stale past the first loop. [In the same vein, no one questioned me when I chose the same name as existing characters/employees]

Some formatting of the text made it sometimes hard to follow along. The fake shared GoogleDoc you edit in the second loop reloads multiple times but doesn't indicate clearly where you last left off (maybe a small translucent horizontal bar?). The email exchanges between Al B and the MC in the third loop could have distinguished better the bits between a description of a scene/dialogues and the emailers just discussing it (indentation, italics, change of font...). I didn't particularly liked the browser errors (a screen popup would have been a bit nicer and easier to close) or the lack of contrast when a popup was on screen (a slightly shaded overlay would have helped separate the elements).

The lack of discussion of the day restarting felt a bit like a missed opportunity. It might not have needed much, just the player getting a bit of anxiety or questioning their sanity from reliving the same day. Even if it can be brushed off because the player can have a do-over on their pitch, the fact that the player doesn't even flinch at the emails they receive is strange*. It could be interesting to have the player fail forever and only manage to break the loop if they give up on 'creating Goncharov (2023)' or it turns out their "win" was just a dream... *there is just the words "Déjà vu" at the end of the second loop...

With the edits of the second loop being so extensive (building on the smaller edits of the first one), the gameplay of the final loop felt lacking. You essentially read through threads of emails between yourself and Al, discussing the scenes, but you have no choice in how they are described (they do have some variation depending on previous edits). I think it would have been nice (maybe for a future update?) if Al or the MC disagreed on some points (e.g: plot points contradict each other) and the MC had to make some choices. There is a bit of an unbalance in player input in the current version.

While time is of the essence, having to scramble to create a pitch in a few hours, the game doesn't "punish" you for taking all the time in the world (e.g. discussing every scene, even though Al presses you to wrap up).

Considering this game was made in less than 3 weeks (during finals!), includes this complexity in story, the high word count, a custom UI, and interactive elements further than simple choice lists, Creating Goncharov is very impressive. It is clear the author has put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into this project.

From essentially using every fan theory out there about the fake-movie, to creating full scenes based on fan-edit posts on Tumblr, using the motifs (the clock, the apple, etc...) reblogged by hundreds of users, or including music created for the meme, Ablie has done their research and dove deep into the lore of the meme. They seemed to have spared no (effort) expense in creating... Creating Goncharov.

Bravo!

[zeldaelmo]

Is it cheating to ask for more than one?? LOL oh well Imma cheat! Drunk Zelda (NSFW) & TP smut weapon arsenal (NSFW) (PLEASE INSERT SHAKY EYES HERE)

It's absolutely not cheating, dear! (Especially since I posted in the middle of the night for most of my followers and probably nobody will send another ask lmao)

Ok, these two fic ideas couldn't be more different, haha. Drunk Zelda is angsty smut (because as much as I like writing SFW fluff, I live for angsty NSFW stories) with some plot and TP smut weapon arsenal is just a goofy little smutty story. More for both under the cut for suggestive themes. :)

Drunk Zelda (I really should have named that doc better haha):

It's a marriage of convenience scenario (TP). Link has returned to the castle and they've become good friends. The topic of Zelda's marriage comes up and they both think, why not? Totally no major crush involved on both sides, no, no

They celebrate with balls and whatnot, make it passably through the wedding night. The first few weeks are a little bit bumpy and stressful and they often fall dead into their beds, but overall it's a success.

That is, until Link realizes that Zelda only sleeps with him when she's tipsy.

A horrible discovery that leads to spiraling thoughts. Why can't she stand him when she's sober? He tries to kiss her a little more affectionately during the next few days, but as soon as his hands drift, she panics. He gets very sad and withdrawn, thinking she doesn't love him back or he's hurting her. What if him being close to her, seeing the scars that his sword left on her skin, reminds her of how he had to fight her when she was Ganondorfs's puppet? Her own husband has aimed his weapon on her, how could she ever love him back?

Zelda however is just so incredibly shy and unfamiliar with physical affection that she believes she can only give him, an experienced country boy (he isn't any more experienced as she, but it's what she believes), what he wants if she loosens up a bit. It worked well enough on their wedding night, after all... It's not that he could love a mess like her anyway, with her scarred body and her soul that couldn't even withstand Ganondorf's attempt to possess her, so she has at least to fulfill his needs on this level somehow to make up for his sacrifice of marrying her (and not his true love Midna).

One evening, Link has enough and swaps her glass of wine with grape juice and dances with her until she's dizzy enough to believe it's from the 'wine'. They make out but of course, Zelda is a smarty and realizes halfway through that she isn't drunk and gets flustered again. Link confesses his worries and they figure it out together and have a second 'first time' with all the feels. 

I haven't written a single word for this, since it sounds like a multi-chapter monster... oops. But I really like the themes that could be explored in this one, so maybe one day I'll start. An event with a prompt list would be cool for this, so that I'm somewhat forced to prioritize it (she says while organizing an event where she writes the prompt list herself lmao).

***

Ok, the other one is just goofy smut. It's based on this post.

I imagined a scene where a freshly married Link and Zelda try to get a private moment but it's not so easy to get undressed with all the weapons on their bodies. Additionally, someone keeps interrupting them, so at one point, Zelda just throws one of his knives that blocks the door or something to keep the soldiers from being a cock blocker.

That's it, that's the whole plot. 😆 When I saved the tumblr post as inspo, I thought about TP zelink, but actually I think this would work much better with Hyrule Warrior zelink mid-war. So, maybe not freshly-married, but that's really not so important. I thought about this happening during honeymoon, but it works just as well or even better at a battle field-related place. With this fic, it’s a bit similar to the other -- I just need an opportunity to finally write it. It will happen at some point, especially since it’s probably a 2-5k word range that I could finish within a week or two, but... priorities. :):):)