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polarisblitzwing · 4 months ago

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WELCOME TO THE FRI3NDSFOR3VER AU

Ford's World - Dimension Fri3nds46/’

◇ Alternative Earth Variant ◇

● Humans have wings and feathered tails

● Alternative Pines family decisions timeline

◇ Stanford Pines ◇

● Ford is a minor god of dreams and a self-proclaimed god of anomalies

● 30 years old here (Young Immortal)

● Met Bill when he was 5 due to him attempting an interdimensional dreamwalk link, with Bill trying the same thing by chance, something that wouldn't work at their age without each other

◇ Gods Among Them ◇

● Most gods were mortals whose power was drawn to them like a magnet due to their personality in some way

● Fairly secretive and prefer to hide their works

● Rely on their believers to notice their efforts, resulting in an increase in power

● Can reveal themselves to the public, but building up power from faith alone is more sustainable for less powerful gods

● Stop aging between 25 and 100 (depending on what age someone wants to live forever)

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Bill's World - For3verEuclydia

◇ Alternative Euclydia Variant ◇

● 360 years is the average lifespan of a Euclydian in this au

● No massacre

◇ Bill Cipher ◇

● Bill is a minor god of dreams and a self-proclaimed god of weirdness

● 30 years old here (Young Immortal)

● Met Ford and Stan when he was 5

◇ Gods Among Them ◇

● Only gods have wings and tails as a power symbol

● Their wings and tails are invisible to anyone that doesn't believe in them specifically

● “Omnipotent” Euclydian gods only know everything about their own world. Bill's knowledge of the third dimension is seen as false teachings to even them.

◇ Bill’s Family ◇

● Scalene is a goddess of Truth and Euclid is a god of Reality

● No one believes Bill is a god except his parents, as godhood is a power grant at birth to someone who the power is drawn to here. It can skip generations.

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NOW, ON TO THE ACTUAL DIALOGUE FOR THIS DRAWING! FANFIC TIME ~

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Bill: So here's my problem - I need to show them the stars. It gets real flat to hear “you're delusional, Bill” and “stop talking about a third dimension!” “Shh, you're gonna get arrested!” “It's not real!” Over and over again. It's time to change up the law and their perspectives.

Ford: Hmm.. that'll be quite the endeavor. You might need more power for that.

Bill: Ohh-ho-oh, definitely. Some of my ideas get real difficult along the way. The kind of stuff only a god with twice my power could pull off.

[ Pulls up a holographic board with his first idea. ]

Bill: If I could turn their eyes towards the stars and give them the same vision as I do, that'd be ideal.

[ Ford manifests a danger sign over Bill's board; a buzzer sounds in warning. ]

Ford: Doing that to the entirety of Euclydia could potentially be devastating. Even if you get that newfound power, without centuries of diligent practice, you could end up permanently mutilating thousands of people in the process. Too risky.

Bill: Uuugh… even if the people I wanted to show the most were immortal too, I don't think I could put up with more of their talk for that long. It has to be this century.

Ford: I get where you're coming from. I’ll do my best to make sure it happens when we figure out a plan that won’t have too many risks involved.

Bill: I could probably have the world dream of stars if you help, but that isn’t real enough to me. It drives me crazy that I can’t see you in real life.

Ford: We’ll meet one day, I promise it.

Bill: I sure hope so, Sixer.

[ Pulls up two more holographic charts. ]

Now.. back to my list of extremely great ideas.. what if I put really tiny stars in the world and contained the heat? Or flipped the world on the y-axis just to prove a third dimension exists first?

[ Ford manifests two more warnings in succession. ]

Ford: Could easily start a fire if anything went wrong, and for all we know, flipping the world vertically could cause everything to fall bottom to top infinitely until it’s fixed. Also runs the risk of killing a lot of Euclydians. Not to mention there could be other forces in your space that could affect the world.

Bill: Yeesh. Alright then, you got any ideas?

Ford: Actually, come to think of it..

[ Ford summons a hologram with a vision of his own forming. ]

Maybe instead of dreams, we tried something just a step up from multi-dimensional dream-walking, something like astral projection. We bring them out of their bodies, but tethered to their world, into space. Without the limitations of their physical forms, their eyes should be able to see more than what they could before.

Bill: SIXER, YOU'RE A GENIUS!!!

Ford: Hah, well, I try.

Bill: NOW THAT'S SOMETHING I COULD ACTUALLY PULL OFF RISK FREE! It might take splitting up the days people get to see it, but, they’ll finally see.

Ford: Well, hold on, splitting up the days could be risky for the groups who see versus who don’t on the first day, so, here's what I'll do. I'll give you my powers for as long as you need them for this. I would like to help personally, but I’d need to physically be there. This will be my contribution to your paradigm shift for Euclydia.

Bill: ..you really trust me that much?

Ford: (smiles and nods) Of course. You're my best friend, my muse, the sun in my galaxy, Bill. I want you to be happy.

[ Ford offers his hand and godly powers out to his partner. ]

Bill: (chuckles, smiling) You’re the best, Fordsy.

[ They shake on it. ]

#Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls AU #the book of bill #bill cipher #stanford pines #Ford #Billford #Well technically QPR billford cause the vibes calculator said so for this au #You can also see this one as romantic but in my mind that universe set is next door to this one. Mor3thanFri3ndsFor3ver xD #Is this AU going to be tragic??? In some ways. I fear. But a lot of things also go well.#You will find out what the alternative pines family decisions means #Also the avian features are for distinct character designs for this au! and bc I wanted floofy birds. you guys get it I bet #ok enough rambling - hope you liked this! I will try to write more sometime (hopefully soon! :])#Fri3ndsFor3ver AU

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ssinnerplazahotel · 1 month ago

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WC:2k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, yandere elvis, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Note/: this is part two of a five part series and was intended for black readers but written with no physical descriptions——all reader’s welcomed

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“That’s strike three. I’m getting too good at bending my own rules.” You got deja vu as you shut the door. The room was the same, the walls had collected more dust and the shelf in the corner had finally collapsed, but it was the same.

“BB said you w-were in Missouri.”

“I don't know why he said that.”

“I-I have y-your, uhm…” He retrieved the compact, fumbling around for it in his pocket before holding it out to you. “Y-Your little mirror.”

“Oh, I forgot all about it.” You’d thought about it every day, wondering if he’d been keeping up with it or if he’d lost it somewhere along the way.

“I’m sure he told you, b-but, I-I’m getting sent away soon.”

“Germany, right?” You tried on an optimistic tone. “You’re gonna love it.”

“You been?”

“It’s beautiful this time of year, the snow and everything…” You turned to hoist the window open, hoping to let some air into the room. You could hear the commotion in the street when you finally got it up. Elvis stepped back into the corner, hiding in the darkest shadows of the room to avoid being spotted.

“What were you doing in Germany?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Cigarette?”

“No, thanks.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

“Muscle relaxer? They work like a charm.”

“Do I seem tense?”

“Of course not, bunny.” You stepped in front of him and put your hands on his shoulders.

He put his arms around your waist and you relaxed into the casual embrace. “How have things been with Ron? I stopped calling when BB told me he was giving you a hard time~”

“Let’s not talk about Ron, right now, okay?”

“Where did you go after I left you in Ohio?”

“I got a ride.”

“From who?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I can’t ever picture you doing anything. When you disappear it’s like you stop existing.”

“Elvis,” You chuckled.

“If I don’t come here and talk to BB I feel like you aren’t real.”

“Why do you need to know that I’m real?”

“Because I…I-I love you too.”

Your stomach dropped. You had hoped he’d avoid the topic or wait for you to bring it up—which you had no intention of doing.

“E-Elvis…” You cleared your throat. “I play a lot of games, and I know we have a pretty good one going but…I-I don’t think it’s a good idea to get too attached to me.”

His eyes hardened and he looked like a different person. This person took a long time to respond and you began to miss the gentle eyes he had before. “You think this is a game?”

“It’s fun, right?”

“Telling me you love me was a game?”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, bun~”

“Cool it with the stupid nicknames, alright, it’s fucking~”

“Shh~”

“No, I’m not gonna be quiet~”

“Elvis.” You let him push you away, watching him pace a few steps.

He faced you and the shadows made him look angrier than he really was. “Why’d you even show up here?”

“BB called me.”

“And said what?”

“He said that you were here blowing up his spot and he wanted me to talk to you so he could stop boarding up his windows every night.”

“He never said anything to me about that.”

“Because he cares about you.”

“If he cared about me he would’ve told me that I was just one of your tricks.”

“You’re not.”

“What makes me different? You were gonna kiss up to me all night then go home and crawl in bed with Ron, right? Just like every other sucker you run into.”

“Don’t pretend to have a clue about anything I do.”

“I have no clue, no one in the world has a clue. BB’s your goddamn cousin and he doesn’t even know where you grew up.”

“He tells people that because we’re close. Like play cousins.”

“You aren’t close to anyone except Ron~”

“I’m sorry I made you upset, Elvis, that’s not what I want. Alright?” You weren’t sure how to salvage the night, but you had made a promise to BB so you tried. “Baby, I want to make you happy before you leave. Don’t you want that?”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t stop you when you took his face in your hands.

“Don’t you want to feel good?”

“Stop playing the game.” His voice was a whisper.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’m here for you, bunny. That’s all I’m here for.”

“This is…T-This feels disgusting.” For the first time since he’d met you, he saw a break in your resolve.

“I-I don’t…” You sighed and threw your hands in defeat. “I don’t know what you want from me if you don’t want this.”

“Is this the shit that you do?”

“Elvis, I’m trying to~”

“Is this what he has you do for him?”

You felt exposed—like there was nothing surrounding you.

“You said he takes care of you, well in exchange for what?” He already knew the answer.

“…If you don’t want to have a good time then I’m leaving.” You panicked when he grabbed you and struggled against him—swinging your free arm with as much strength as you could muster. He relinquished his grip immediately, opting for blocking his face. “Don’t touch me like that. Do you hear me?”

“I’m sorry~”

“Don’t fucking grab me like that~”

“I won’t, alright, fuck. Just don’t leave.”

“Why should I stay? For you to interrogate me some more?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, honey, I just…fuck, I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what this just turned into o-or what it always was—I just don’t know.” You believed him.

“…BB’s paying Ron for me to be here, so…whatever you’ve been wanting now’s the best time because who knows when you’ll get another opportunity~”

“See? Stop, alright, that’s what I’m saying. What do you mean he’s paying him?”

“You know the game now, you might as well play.”

“I don’t want to. I’m not interested. Alright? I mean, for fuck sakes, do you even want to be here? H-How many people have you slept with tonight?”

Suddenly, you felt like crying. You knew why but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. You didn’t want to acknowledge the underlying disgust behind his tone because that would mean having to admit that he was in fact disgusted by you. It would mean having to admit that most people are or would be disgusted by you. You didn’t typically have to admit or acknowledge those things, and so you never did. Instead, you picked your purse up from the ground and prepared to leave.

“Don’t go,” He insisted.

“I’m sorry that I’m not the person you thought I was. But I won’t stand here and be degraded for things I have no control over.”

“Is he forcing you?”

“No. I like it.” You couldn’t stop the tears anymore and you stepped into the light to hide them—you knew he wouldn’t follow. “I like t-the freedom and money and it’s w-what I’m good at, so…”

“I’m not degrading you. I-I’m worried about you, honey, y-you’re…you’re just a little girl.”

You felt an odd sense of relief at his words. For once it seemed like someone was allowing you to be something other than what Ron had molded you into—you didn’t feel the need to pretend.

“How much did BB pay? I-I’ll give it back.”

“You don’t have to…I ruined your night.”

“No you didn’t.” Suddenly his hands were on your shoulders and while you didn’t feel the immediate urge to recoil, you rushed to push him away.

“Elvis, don’t. Someone might see~”

“I don’t care.” You let him stay. “How’d you get caught up with Ron?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll never see me the same.”

He wasn’t silent for long, but it felt like an eternity. “I didn’t know you were playing a game when I told you I loved you.”

“So?”

“So, I meant it. And telling me won’t change that,” He promised.

You tried to take a deep breath but there was still hardly any air in the room. “…He married my mother when I was younger.”

You could’ve imagined it, but you thought you felt him tense. “What happened to your mother?”

“She got away.”

“She left you?”

“Yeah, she’s…I don’t know where she is.”

“How old are you?”

You hesitated, you shouldn’t want him to know. You were careful to never reveal even the slightest detail of your life to anyone. But this was different—he was different. “…Nineteen.”

“How long have you been doing this?” His voice was clearer than it had been all evening, suddenly it felt like he had the upper hand.

“He lets me come and go when I do this. I feel freer when I can leave and do whatever I want~”

“That wasn’t my question~”

“I know that at the end of the day, if it's all accounted for, I can always go home. That's the way it is, that's the way it’s always been.”

“He’s taking advantage of you.”

“I’m not a little girl.” You pushed his hands off of your shoulders and faced him. “Like I told BB, things are good. Things were good before you.”

“Are they not now?”

“No, because he’s sick of hearing about Elvis Presley. You call a million times and send me gifts and expect him not to give me shit about it?”

“You said he didn’t care.”

“He doesn’t care, Elvis. No one cares, so why do you?”

“No one in their right mind would be okay with what you just described.”

“BB paid your bill tonight and didn’t bat an eye, wanna know why? Because it’s business. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble if you chose to see it that way.”

“I refuse to see it that way.”

“Then enjoy being miserable.” You made to leave but he stopped you—this time with a gentler hand.

“How much for a night?”

“Don’t worry about paying BB back, he doesn’t need your money.”

“How much?”

“…$20.”

“If I sent you back with $60 would you come with me for a few days?”

“That’s the way the game works.”

“Then come back with me.”

“You’re twisting the rules to your advantage.”

“You said yourself that you were getting good at bending the rules.”

“My bending the rules and your bending the rules aren’t the same.”

“How so?”

“Because, E…I know how not to fall in love.” He looked devastated as you stood up on your tip toes to leave a kiss on his cheek. “I won’t see you again.”

“Don’t say that.” His voice was quieter. “I-I’ll pay, birdie, I’ll p-play the game.”

“You said you weren’t interested.”

“I’m interested in being near you for as long as I can be before you disappear and it feels like this never happened.” He huffed. “I’ll do $70.”

“No~”

“$80, $100~”

“It’s not about the money, Elvis. You could give him a million dollars—he’s still gonna want to hear from me by the end of the week.”

“What’s he gonna do if you don’t show up?”

Your expression must’ve said something you didn’t because the crease between his eyebrows was there again—but this time it wasn’t because he was angry.

“I can’t stand that look you get when you think about him.”

“What look?”

“Like you’re scared of him.”

“I am scared of him.” The confession shocked you the same as it shocked him. You hadn’t admitted it before to yourself or to anyone else how much fear had been instilled into you from an early age.

“Please, come back with me.”

“You’re leaving soon~”

“You’ll be safe at Graceland.”

“I can’t explain why, E, but I…I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“How will I know if you’re okay?”

“You won’t know.”

“I-If…” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “If I sent letters here would you stop by sometimes to pick em up?”

You shrugged. “I’m usually in town every Saturday.”

“Oh, now you tell me?”

You bit back a smile. “You’ll forget all about me when you get over there. You’ll see.”

“No I won’t. The whole time I’m gonna be trying to get back here to you.”

“You might see me there, you never know.”

“You haven’t actually been to Germany have you?” He asked.

“No, but you believed me, didn’t you?”

“You lie too good. It’s scary.”

“It keeps you wondering.”

He did that thing where he looked at you like he was trying to engrave the vision of you onto his retinas and you smiled fully. “Promise you’ll stop by for the letters.”

“I promise.”

“Swear.”

“I swear.”

“…I still don’t believe you.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He sighed and looked off.

“We don’t have to do anything,” You said, rubbing his shoulder. “W-We can just…talk about Germany if you want.”

He nodded and you moved to find a comfortable enough spot to sit down in. He joined you on the old wooden floorboards and crossed his legs.

“Are you okay?”

“…No.”

“What’s wrong?”

He shrugged and leaned back against the wall behind him. “I’m scared.”

“Of Germany?”

“Of everything.”

You nodded. “What can I do?”

He shook his head and you understood. You moved closer and laid on his shoulder.

“No matter what happens, bun, you gotta know that it’s gonna be okay. They can take whatever they want. They can’t have your soul. That’s yours. It’ll always be yours, even after this. You’ll see.”

“Do you think they’ll remember me?”

You listened to the frenzied fans through the window for a moment and laughed:

“I think they’re going to make sure everyone remembers you, baby.”

#elvis presley #elvis imagine #elvis fluff #elvis smut #elvis x you #black reader #elvis x black reader #elvis presely smut #austin butler #elvis presley fanfiction

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supremechancellorrex · 8 months ago

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One of the major disappointments I had with the Avatar live-action was the storyline and characterisation of Azula. Not only does the show take vital minutes that could have been spent on Katara, but Live-Action!Azula fails to feel very strong and threatening presence wise. There's a lack of mystique, mystery and reveal with her. The live-action has laid her bare a little too early for comfort in my opinion. Narratively, I think we know her *too well* now. It doesn't help she lays her feelings on her face pretty bare to see.

Where she seemed more promising in Episode 3 with her cool dispatching of rebels and plotting with Zhao, I honestly didn't really enjoy her scenes after. Also, I know this is a tall order, but I found Azula's martial arts not as strong as Zuko's actor, which is jarring for her plotline. I found her lightning reveal a little lacklustre. She's just like, wham, lightning.

Azula's Conflict

Part of Azula's original characterisation in the cartoon was she was able to keep her feelings close to her chest like a cold flame, it was smarter that way. The entire point of her characterisation is she appears the perfect royal vessel blessed with all the gifts, but she actually was hurt and mentality unstable and masking this trauma. Yet, in the live-action Azula ragefully beats and loses control in a training session fight against a servant to the point Ty Lee and Mai, her friends/underlings of a lower social station, dare to protest and physically pull her off in full view of everyone. Meanwhile, Ozai reads her like an open book for most of the season. She feels like more of an underdog, like a vicious little poodle monkey kicked every time Ozai praises Zuko, and being so obvious with her feelings in front of Mai and Ty Lee, and an entire courtyard of subjects and everyone. Apparently, Royal Family members are so much so obvious, a lowly person like Zhao thousands of miles away somehow even knows Ozai is testing her. What did she put in those silly letters? It feels like Live-Action!Azula is cottoning on a little too late on how to really play the game for someone so smart, and that would just be unacceptable in such a traditional, Imperial Confuscianist-like environment.

What Azula deals with in Season 1 of the Avatar: Live Action is a conflict Azula would have more likely had at age 10, realising a textbook answer isn't enough. By having her have this at 14, it does make her feel more slow and less of a prodigy with a strategic mind. The writers decided to do the Season 1 timeline and have something for Azula to do at the same time, but the conflict they chose for her does change her characterisation in ways so far I'm not fond of or at least confident is for the better.

Aluza, A Meaner Zuko

My problem with Azula isn't that she's "sympathetic", more she just doesn't feel like herself. She had a different way of dealing with things in the original show; she'd learned from a young age to be more generally closed off and in an imperial, authoritarian environment. In this environment, where composure is everything and every movement needs to affirm the Mandate of Heaven that is your existence and your divine right, Azula learned to restrain her self-expression where in contrast Zuko had difficulty and was punished for it. As someone who knows people in real life who are very difficult to read. Live-Action!Azula was far too obvious and readable for the characters around her at this stage, especially given the upbringing she would have had. In most of the cartoon, she does have a tighter hold on her feelings and that is more realistic due to the position she has in the culture she was born into. Although we see sparks of insecurity in the cartoon, which hint towards the original Azula's inner issues and trauma, generally she is very composed and tactical.

Trauma can often manifest in unique ways depending on the individual. People with trauma can actually be very hard to read. Similar to how an injured cat will instinctively give no sign of pain to not show a predator any sign of weakness. Zuko lashed out with his trauma, but Azula reacted in a different way in the cartoon. That was part of her characterisation. And, I'm not talking about how Azula is becoming worse and Zuko better, I'm talking about how they react to Ozai and things not going their way. In the live-action, now both just lash out, complain, get angry and have to have someone intercede. Azula is more vicious, but the reactions are more similar now than they were, and I personally feel it takes away from what were key differences between how the characters would react to problems growing up. She was a different person. Now I don't think the cartoon got it all right, I think they were clumsy with Azula's character arc at points in Book 3 especially in my opinion, but she just had more of a presence and there was a certain nuance and dynamic to her troubled and calculating personality that I feel is lacking in the live-action.

Live-Action!Azula also didn't feel very "Royal" to me in the live-action, feeling less like a girl who believes in her divine right to rule and more just a mean girl in high school. There's something often intrinsically cold and distant about people in Royal Families, their environment, the "Never Got Enough Hugs" syndrome and its mentality, even for the ones that act out. The type of people that make children march miles behind their mother's coffin in full view of thousands of faces for saving face, tradition, and duty. I'm not sure they nailed it. This Live-Action!Azula lacks a certain spark so far, and what I know of Royal Families, from the UK and Japan to the former Royal Families of China and Korea, I'm not convinced of her characterisation here as a character with a background as a princess.

Villain Crafting

Azula felt intimidating because Ozai had twisted her into what on the surface to others and even herself was a "monster". Perhaps the cartoon's mistake was not delving deeper into this characterisation more and instead focusing just on the badass spinning kick blue flames moments and smirks a bit too long, as some people didn't get Azula had a sympathetic and tragic side, but I feel the live-action's mistake is adding in details not true to Azula's character and peeling back the mystery of this character too early, because now it feels like the viewers know they know a lot, right off the bat, and storytelling wise in Season 1 it just made this Azula come across as less interesting or even authentic to me. It won't be surprising to anyone this Live-Action!Azula has a mental breakdown now, it will be predictable and more like her usual tantrums instead of a shock that shows a deeper truth.

#azula #princess azula #avatar live action #screwed her up #what were they thinking #i can't even recover #bad writing #avatar the last airbender #nalta

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stargazer-sims · 6 months ago

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Somewhere In Time

♫ Somewhere In Time - David Mallett ♫

__________

"At which point are we going to address the elephant in the room?”

"Hmm?" Nikolai looks up from his book. He'd discovered fairly quickly that Iryna doesn't like him to read at the table at mealtimes, but he's not about to break a lifelong habit just because she shoots him dirty looks whenever he does it. It's her turn to make breakfast. She's standing at the stove and she's not looking at him. "What elephant?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Iryna says.

"Suppose you enlighten me?"

"I know who you are."

"I should hope so," he says. "You've been living with me for nearly a month now."

"Nika—" she begins, but then cuts herself off with a disgruntled sigh. "No, never mind. If you want to feign ignorance, then be my guest. We'll pretend to be strangers until you get tired of the game."

Up until Iryna moved in, he thought he'd grown too old to experience the sudden tingle of pleasure he'd always associated with young love, with infatuation and crushes and fantastically-imagined scenes of the future. Yet here it is; a tiny zap of joy at hearing her call him by such a familiar name as easily and naturally as if she'd been doing it all her life.

The truth is, he does know who she is. He hadn't recognized her when he saw her outside his door that first day, but he supposes that wasn't unexpected, given they hadn't laid eyes on each other in nearly sixty years. Minutes into their meeting, however, realization came crashing in.

He was actively in denial of it initially, telling himself that it was nothing but an old man's wishful thinking. He insisted to himself that she couldn't possibly be his Ira. After all, what were the chances that she'd not only immigrated to the same country as him, but also ended up living in the same city? But, as time has gone on, he's found it more and more difficult to ignore all the long-buried memories that float to the surface of his mind, and all the little cues that make his certainty of her identity grow stronger.

He sighs too, but not with impatience. "No, you're right. We do need to talk about it. Just... not over breakfast, if that's all right with you."

"All right," she says. She expertly flips the two pancakes in the frying pan before aiming a look over her shoulder at him. "Why don't we go down to the beach after we eat?"

He nods. 'Yes, I'd like that."

They don't talk much during breakfast, but he does her the courtesy of putting his book away. He wonders what she's thinking. Is she as awestruck as he is by the incredible coincidence of their reunification? Or maybe she's remembering a time before that one bad decision they'd made had sent their shared timeline spinning so drastically out of control.

How different our lives might've been if we'd only exercised a little restraint, he thinks. If they'd waited a little longer, he might've asked her to marry him, and she might've said yes. They could've raised their children together and had a pleasant life.

But no... if things hadn't gone the way they did, he wouldn't have his wonderful son Mikhail. He wouldn't have his adored grandchildren Kolya and Natasha, and his sweet grandson-in-law Mishka. Raising his son on his own hadn't been the smoothest ride, but he has no regrets. Given the chance to go back and do everything over again, he might make other choices, but knowing that rewinding time is an impossibility, he's proud to have made the best of the hand he was dealt.

After they finish eating, he tidies up the kitchen while Iryna goes to shower and change. By the time he's done, she's in the midst of applying her makeup. Thankful that they've got two bathrooms, he climbs the stairs to go to his and put himself together for the day.

They decide to walk to the beach. It takes a bit longer to reach the shore from his current home than it did when he lived with Mikhail and Elena, but he doesn't mind. He and Iryna are both healthy and fit for their age and they enjoy walks. Plus, the weather is ideal for an outdoor excursion. It's sunny but not too hot or humid, and there's a nice westerly breeze.

They make awkward small talk for a few minutes as they head toward the waterfront, but the halting dialogue quickly fades away, as they both know it's only an attempt to distract themselves from the real conversation that's yet to come. Nikolai tries to figure out if he should let her bring up the subject first, or if he should just plunge in. It might be easier for her if he starts, but she was the one who asked to talk, so maybe...

He rolls the problem over and over in his head on the way downtown and all the way to the end of the waterfront boardwalk. The boardwalk terminates abruptly with only a set of wooden steps that lead down to the beach.

The stairs have seen better days. There's no railing, so he holds out his hand to support Iryna as they descend.

She glances at his hand and then looks up shyly at him, and for a second he thinks he catches a glimpse of the blushing twelve year old girl he'd met at the rink decades ago. He pictures her with long strawberry-blonde hair spilling out from under her blue knitted hat as she reached for the hand of his twelve year old self who was prepared to steady her as she stepped onto the ice for the first time in her brand-new skates. The image is only in his mind's eye, of course, but the recollection is as clear as if it'd happened yesterday.

"Don't worry," he says, just as he did back then. "I won't let you fall."

He can't remember what she'd said in response at the time, but in the present she places her hand in his and says, "I trust you."

When they reach the bottom of the steps, she doesn't release him immediately. Nikolai doesn't try to pull his hand away either, rather enjoying the feel of her slender fingers wrapped around his and waiting to see how long it will be before she lets go.

They wander for several more minutes in silence until they encounter some large rocks. The stones are smooth from millennia of exposure to ocean water, wind and rain.

"Let's sit," Iryna suggests, and finally slips her hand away from his.

He nods, and lowers himself carefully next to her on the worn rock. It's not like his sofa at home, but it is surprisingly comfortable.

"So..." he begins.

"I think we're in the midst of a story one couldn't make up," she comments.

"That thing about truth being stranger than fiction?"

"Admittedly, it probably would make a great plot for a novel."

"So," he says again. "Tell me something. When you answered my ad for a roommate, did you already know it was me?"

She shakes her head. "No, I had no idea. When I saw your name, I thought it was just a funny coincidence. I replied to your ad out of curiosity, if I'm being honest."

"You didn't intend to move in?"

"Not necessarily with you, no. I did need a new place to live, and I'd lined up a few other places to view, but when I saw you..." She directs her gaze away from him for a second. "I'm not sure if I was ready to believe it."

"I understand," he says. "It was the same for me. When I realized it was you, I told myself that couldn't possibly be right because..."

"Because you thought I was half a world away?"

"Because I didn't know anything, whether you were still in the old country or even whether you were still alive, or... anything."

"I'm very much alive."

He smiles. "Thank the fates for that."

"When did you know it was me?" she asks. "Surely you didn't recognize me on sight."

"No, I didn't," he admits. "You're still beautiful, but you don't look the same as you did when we were sixteen."

She laughs. "Neither do you."

"No escaping the steady march of time, is there? If you want to know, the giveaway for me was when you said you used to know a boy named Nikolai whose mother called him Nika. The way you said my name... It triggered something in my brain. You still say it exactly how you used to."

"You know, that was the moment I recognized you as well," she says. "The way you reacted to me saying your name."

"You and Mother and my sisters are the only ones who ever called me Nika. My ex-wife tried, but it always sounded wrong coming out of her mouth."

"You were married?"

"For a while, yes. Her name was Ivana."

"Did you have children?" she inquires.

"Three," he replies. "All girls. Zara, Anastasia and Tatyana. I don't see much of them, unfortunately. After the divorce, Ivana made it clear she didn't want anything more to do with me, and that included giving me time with the girls. Since they grew up, we exchange letters and emails and pictures, but it feels like they're my distant relatives instead of my daughters."

"I'm sorry," Iryna says. She takes his hand again. "That makes me feel like a terrible person for complaining about my son." She squeezes his fingers in what he's sure is a reflexive motion and adds quietly, "My younger son."

"I don't think you'd find a reason to complain about your older son," he tells her. "He grew up to be the sort of man any parent would be proud of."

"You... you know where he is?"

"He's here in town."

She practically whispers her next question. "What's his name?"

"I named him Mikhail," he tells her. "Both our names are on his birth certificate."

Her reaction isn't what he expects. She stands abruptly and turns away from him. Before he can say anything further, she starts to run. She makes it several meters down the beach before she drops to her knees.

It takes him half a minute to realize that she's crying. He gets up from the rock and jogs the short distance to where she's kneeling in the sand.

"Iryna," he says, as he kneels in front of her.

She raises her head, and he sees that her tears have smudged the makeup around her eyes. Her voice breaks as she says, "He was right here the entire time. Both of you were. You and... Mikhail. I've been in Canada for years, and I came to this city ten years ago. I could have—" The remainder of the sentence is lost in her tears.

Nikolai slides closer to her and pulls her into his arms. He doesn't even pause to consider whether this is the appropriate thing to do. He's simply operating on instinct.

She doesn't resist his embrace. She melts into it, wrapping her arms around his body and leaning her head on his shoulder.

For a moment, he feels as if they're the only two people in the world. He closes his eyes and listens to the gentle, rhythmic splash of waves against some nearby rocks. Somewhere over the water, a seagull calls mournfully. The light wind stirs his hair and carries the distinctive scent of seaweed and salt. The noise of cars from Harbourside Road is a faint swish in the distance, and from here he can't hear any footsteps or voices on the boardwalk. It's just him and Iryna, alone at the centre of the universe.

"You didn't know," he murmurs. “It's not your fault. None of it is. I need you to know I never blamed you for any of it, not for an instant."

"What about Mikhail?"

"He knows it wasn't your fault. When he was old enough to understand, I told him what happened."

"I didn't want to give him up, but my father—"

"I know," he whispers. "You had no choice. No one blames you."

"I blame myself."

He doesn't know what to say, mostly because he can only guess at what it must've been like for her to have her newborn baby literally taken from her arms and given away. She'd carried him inside her for nine months, and despite knowing that her parents would never let her keep him, she must've dreamed of the future they might have. She was sixteen and Nikolai was a few weeks away from his sixteenth birthday when Mikhail was born. Making plans for their little family was unrealistic, although that didn't stop him from dreaming too, regardless of the futility of it.

Mikhail was born at home because Iryna's family had been too ashamed of her condition to dare venture out in public with her, and as if the humiliation and shame of being an unwed teenage mother in the 1960s wasn't enough for her to bear, her parents told her that they had no interest in supporting her bastard child. Her father decreed that the baby would go straight to an orphanage after he was born.

When Nikolai told his parents, they were outraged. They hadn't been pleased when Nikolai confessed to them that he and Iryna had slept together and that she'd fallen pregnant, but they weren't so unreasonable as to expect him to give up his child to strangers.

"We'll say the baby is your brother or sister," Mother had declared. "No one but our family will know. But, Nika—" here, she'd paused to make sure he got the point— "This baby is your child, not mine. I will help you, but you are ultimately responsible. Do you understand?"

He'd thrown himself into her arms, weak with relief and gratitude, and she'd hugged him tight. "I'll do everything. I'll make you proud of me."

She'd leaned in close and said quietly against the top of his head. "I'm already proud of you, my little mouse. Even when you make mistakes, you take responsibility for them. You always find a way to make it right."

But, he wasn't at all sure he could make that situation right.

He recalls standing on the street in front of the Komarov house with baby Mikhail cradled protectively against his chest. It was December, and the baby was covered by nothing but a one-piece pyjama and a green and white blanket Iryna had knitted before he was born. Mr. Komarov hadn't seemed the least bit concerned about shielding Mikhail from the cold. He'd thrust the day-old baby into Nikolai's arms as if he were disgusted by Mikhail's very existence.

"Take it," he'd said. "Do whatever you want, but don't come back here any more." As he ascended the steps to re-enter his home, he turned to look back at Nikolai and added, "If I catch you anywhere near my daughter again, I will kill you."

Nikolai hadn't doubted the threat. There were rumours about what Mr. Komarov had done to grown men twice Nikolai's size. A scrawny, awkward fifteen year old would be no match for him, if he chose to make good on his word.

Too frightened to speak, all Nikolai could do was stare up at Mr. Komarov and pray that he could communicate his understanding by his expression alone.

Mr. Komarov went up the last few steps, and Nikolai started to leave, but when the older man swung the door open, Nikolai could hear Iryna inside. She was screaming. Never in his life had he heard anguish distilled into such a pure form. There was no other way to describe it. If the deepest pain known to humanity could've been represented by a sound, that was it.

Mr. Komarov bellowed into the house, "Shut up, girl! It's done!"

Nikolai had tried his utmost to restrain himself, but Iryna's desperate cries were too much for him. Before he could stop himself, he was shouting her name. "Ira! Ira, don't worry! Some day we'll all see each other again, I promise!"

He knew he'd done precisely the wrong thing even before all the words were out. Mr. Komarov whirled and came charging down the stairs again, straight toward him. The roar the older man let out was wordless and almost as feral as Iryna's wails of grief, and it terrified Nikolai to his core.

Clutching baby Mikhail against him with both arms, he ran down the snowy street, away from the house. He was shaking so violently that he worried he might fall, and his eyes were streaming tears to the point that he could barely see where he was going. He didn't stop until he reached the end of the street and turned the corner.

Still trembling, he dropped to the sidewalk and then laid Mikhail carefully on his lap so he could take off his scarf and unbutton his coat. First, he wrapped the scarf around Mikhail like a swaddle and then wriggled out of his coat and bundled that around the baby too. He hoped that it'd be enough to keep little Mikhail safe from the unforgiving winter air until they reached home.

He was never more grateful for anything in his life than he was to walk through the front door of his own home and straight into the embrace of his mother and sisters. Mother took Mikhail from him, and the very next second his older sister Dasha was throwing a quilt around his shoulders and leading him into the blessedly warm kitchen.

"It's going to be okay now, Nika," Dasha assured him. "Mother knows what to do, and Katya and I will help."

It would be a long time before he was able to believe everything really would be okay, but eventually he accepted it. He never forgot Iryna, but for Mikhail's sake, he'd had to move on with his life. He'd finished school, went to university, and worked to support himself and his son.

When Mikhail was seventeen, they immigrated to Canada for a better life, and he can say that the past forty years have indeed been the good life he'd hoped for, all things considered. He couldn't completely let go of the thought that he and Iryna might meet again some day, but he'd long ago given up dwelling on the idea. The secret to happiness, he's learned, is to focus on things that are present and real; family, home, work and hobbies. Longing for unreachable things is the way to ensure that a broken heart will never heal.

Things that are present and real. Ira is present and real, here in my arms.

His face is wet with his own tears.

Iryna shifts slightly and says softly, "Nika?"

"I'm here.”

"You said you didn't know what love was," she says. "The day I came to see about the rental, remember? You said that when you were a teenager, you were too young to know what it meant."

"Yes," he agrees. 'I said that."

"You were wrong."

"Was I?"

"You knew," she says. "You wouldn't have raised our son if you didn't."

"I couldn't abandon him. He's part of me."

"And me," she says.

"Yes, and because of him, we're linked together. Even if I didn't know where you were, I could always see a little of you in him."

She pulls away from him slowly, and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "Can you tell me about him?"

"I could talk for days about him," he says. He takes off his glasses and rubs at his own eyes. "He's an amazing son. He's clever with machines, like you. He likes fishing and hockey and rebuilding old cars. He's been married to the same girl for over forty years, and we've got two grandchildren, Nikolai and Natalya. Kolya and Natascha, we call them. They're twins."

She lets out a tiny gasp that seems to him to be a mixture of joy and astonishment. "Oh! Grandchildren!"

"And perhaps a great-grandchild next year," he says. "Kolya and his partner got married in July, and they're planning to grow their family."

"I... I'd like to meet them."

"You should," he says. "Mikhail and Elena and the twins know about you. That you're my roommate, I mean, but they don't know who you are. Give me a chance to talk to them first, and then I'll introduce you properly. Would that be all right?"

'Yes," she says. "I think that would be best. It might be a shock if I suddenly appeared out of nowhere and announced that I'm their mother and grandmother."

"Elena and Natascha wouldn't believe that."

"And Mikhail?"

"Let me talk to him."

"All right," she acquiesces. "In the meantime, do you have a picture?"

"I do. I've got loads on my phone, and our family portrait is in my bedroom at home. My phone's in my pocket. Let's see if we can help each other up, and then I'll show you."

It doesn't take all that much effort to get up. Nikolai's knees ache a little, but he's otherwise unharmed, and Iryna doesn't seem any the worse for wear either. He spends a fruitless minute trying to help her brush the sand from her dress before they both give up, laughing.

"Never mind," she says. "Most of it will dry and fall off by the time we get back to the cottage, and then I'll change my clothes and throw this into the washing machine."

He swipes at the leg of his shorts. "These as well."

"Those as well."

Now that he's standing, it's easier to slide his phone from his pocket. He opens his photo gallery and hands the device to her. "Take a look. Oh, and feel free to ignore the pictures of Fish."

They stroll back to the rock they'd been sitting on earlier, and Iryna spends several minutes scrolling through photos and asking Nikolai to identify all the people in them. She exclaims over how much both Mikhail and Kolya resemble him, and gushes over all his candid snapshots from Kolya and Mishka's wedding reception, and she's even interested in the pictures of Kolya and Natascha's friends.

"Your family is beautiful," she says at last, passing the phone back.

Her fingers brush against his as he reclaims the phone, and he gets that same flutter of happiness he experienced at breakfast. He gazes at her, taking in every perfect line of her face, changed so much from when they were young and yet so achingly familiar.

He smiles at her and says softly. "Not just my family. Our family."

__________

TO BE CONTINUED

#writing #somewhere in time #dr. nikolai pavlenko #ira komarova bowden #stargazersims

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theworldreturning · 5 months ago

Text

Intro Post

Hello! I'm participating in @pkmoth's askapalooza event! So here's just some general stuff to know bout how this blog's gonna go!

Info under the cut!

About The AU:

Nothing too special about this AU, really, I think it's a concept everyone's come up with at some point. It's a post story AU after Mother 3's ending where the world is reformed after Lucas asks the dragon to give the planet and humanity another chance.

As a side effect, a good amount of people have come back and/or changed to be allowed that second chance (mainly those who had some form of regret in the old world). Some folks are very different to allow for this to happen, and as such have changed memories and lives, but most remain unchanged from how they were when the world ended and reformed.

The new world takes place in an alternate post Mother 2 universe, but now the Nowhere Islands exist alongside everything else (Though now on maps and such, they're known as the Dragon's Rest Isles). Due to this timeline change, while the folks from Mother 1 are here, they're older now.

So who can you ask?:

You can ask most anyone important from the games! Though if you want more specific people/groups you have:

Claus, Lucas, and Fuel. Who are currently still living in the Dragon's Rest Isles.

They all retain memories of the previous world, but mostly try to put it behind them. For now they're trying their best to retain some sense of normalcy and get used to how things are going to work in their new life (much like everyone else in New Tazmily).

As a point of note: Due to what physically happened to him in the previous world, Claus may not be fully able to answer some questions (may be beyond his scope of vocabulary, or too difficult to understand). In those cases, Fuel or Lucas will probably answer for him. ( Yes, Claus is still a chimera. Yes this affects his behavior.)

The Chosen 4 from Mother 2 (plus Pokey and Picky). Back at home after their journey.

Though the chosen 4 went their separate ways after their journey, they're still good friends and come to visit often. Also due to the world being given a second chance, Pokey is back to being Ness' neighbor, but this time has accepted friendship (mostly, he's still a bit of a prickly kid.)

As a huge note: While the chosen 4 remember the previous world, Pokey and his family DO NOT. Their memories are rewritten to have allowed for Pokey to get a second chance! (Their behaviors are still similar to the previous world though.)

Ninten (And the main party of Mother 1). Now grown up and living their lives in relative peace.

This cast is grown up now (they're in their 20s, minus teddy who is in his late 30s early 40s). While we'll mostly only see Ninten around, the others can answer asks! Also due to proximity (since he moved), Ninten and his cousin Ness can also answer some things together from time to time!

General Asking Rules:

For the most part, at least for now, the casts from the game are mostly separate. The only exceptions are the M1 and M2 casts, who either visit often or are in close enough proximity that they're semi-aware of each other. They'll all meet eventually (at least that's my hope), but for now they remain separate.

No NSFW asks, of course. Most of the casts are still minors. I'll also apply no shipping asks into this. It's not a main thing I wish to focus on, any ships that happen are just there and not the biggest focus.

Don't spam the same asks, it'll just lead me to not answering them. (This doesn't apply if you happen to ask the same question as someone else! If enough people ask the same thing, it may eventually make it to an OOC FAQ post!)

I will TRY to answer with at least a black and white sketch, but I am a working man, so my time is sometimes quite limited. I apologize in advanced.

Due to the above, I may also take a bit to answer some questions! Please do be patient, I will try my best to answer them all!

I will also answer RP-type asks, but they may remain short or more spread out in between normal asks as I'm not the best at roleplaying.

You can be mean to characters, but don't push it too far!! If you sent an ask that I found overly aggressive and you never see it answer, assume it was a bit too far.

Lastly, What About The Future of This Blog?:

If I have fun manning this blog through the month, and people still seem decently interested, I may continue it past the askapalooza! But that all depends on the future, so don't hold me to it! Just know that whatever the decision, I will have appreciated everyone taking the time to just look or even interact with these guys!

#motherbound askapalooza #ooc post #motherbound-askapalooza

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knickynoo · 11 months ago

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At what point in time do you think the original timeline McFly family started being dysfunctional? I’m sure George and Lorraine were fully in love at first, and Lorraine even still in the 80s seems to look back fondly when recalling how they fell in love. But I do wonder when exactly it started to go downhill, when they started having kids? Just with age? Or maybe it was never really great to begin with before Marty got involved

This is a really interesting ask, and it's something that I've thought about a handful of times. The Twin Pines McFlys fascinate me.

As for my own headcanons about when the dysfunction started, I think it was always there. Dysfunction within families is complex, though, so it likely ebbed and flowed and morphed over the years. Some thoughts! (hehehe, analysis and theories incoming)

I 100% believe George and Lorraine were fully in love at first and are even still in love when we meet them in 1985. It's just that life has beaten them both down in various ways, and they've lost touch with each other and fallen into a pattern of being resigned to (and maybe even comfortable with) all the disconnect within their family. But there's no mistaking the fondness with which Lorraine begins her story of how she and George met and the way it shifts to such sadness within just a few seconds. Her question of, "It was the night of that terrible thunderstorm, remember, George?" is such a clear bid for connection with him. A hope that he'll smile and recall that night and join in on her story. That's what Lorraine wants! But George doesn't even acknowledge her (not on purpose, I'm sure; he's just so wrapped up in watching The Honeymooners), and you see Lorraine gradually deflate from there.

It's so sad because you can see the emotions shift so suddenly in her! That first gif still holds such affection as she recalls their first kiss. It's like she's a girl again, feeling that overwhelming sense of love and all the possibilities for their life together. But then it changes. She's brought back to reality and all the unhappiness, the disappointments, the realization that life isn't what she imagined for herself.

By the last gif, she's a woman who clearly feels trapped. Now stuck with this guy for the rest of her life. And what makes it so awful is that you can TELL Lorraine still loves him. She longs for that happiness they once had, but it takes two people putting in effort to make a marriage work. She can try to reach George all she wants, but if he can't be emotionally present, it isn't going to work.

Also, I'm sure that George loves Lorraine as well, but he's got a whole plethora of issues that just. Haven't been addressed. George has no self-worth. He's meek and lets people walk all over him and is so completely anxious about everything in life that he's mostly shut down. He's trapped too, with no way (that he can see) to change things. So he does what he can to survive, which consists of doing Biff's bidding and retreating to an inner world at the expense of shutting his family out.

I don't think things were always to this extreme, though. For a while I'm sure things were okay, maybe even good. They were young and in love, and while George was still George, I don't think life had defeated him yet. They got married, really established their little life together, and I can see them as both having hope. And even if there were moments that seemed shaky or hinted that things might be difficult down the road, it was easy to brush it aside. They were still finding their footing, and they were young and had their whole future together to make things better. In all honesty, Dave probably got to experience the "best" versions of his parents for the first several years of his life.

However, each year and every hardship (big and small) likely chipped away at the McFlys and brought about additional dysfunction. I don't know if Biff and George started working with each other right out of high school or if they came to work those jobs later on, but I'm sure that was a huge factor. It offered no escape from Biff for either George or Lorraine. Just a predictable cycle of George having to do whatever Biff told him, Biff invading their home whenever he pleased, and everyone having to watch George immediately tuck his tail between his legs.

As I said, I think things gradually kind of unraveled in their house. As the state of their family became more solidified, Lorraine likely began drinking more and withdrawing. I do think they still had their good days, though! Moments that brought them together and where they felt that happiness they once shared (I mean, they had three children together, and it's clear Dave, Linda, and Marty ARE loved and were raised well.) But the state of the McFly household is probably all Marty has known for the majority of his life. I can see situations arising where maybe Dave has told him, "They weren't always like this, you know."

Dysfunctional as they are, George and Lorraine really are trying. I think they can absolutely see the cracks and the flaws—perhaps even the potential damage being caused to their children—but they just have too much brokeness inside themselves to do better. So, they do what they can, which for George involves trying to protect his children's feelings by discouraging them from taking risks. He doesn't want them hurt or sad or disappointed, and his solution is to have them form shells around themselves. Better to save yourself from all the headaches life brings.

Lorraine does her best to protect and guide her kids by way of warning them away from the very things that brought her to where she is in life. We see this manifest in the form of criticism mostly when she's talking to Marty.

Lastly even with Lorraine seeming as downtrodden as she is, I can see her clinging to the possibility of change. Hoping and praying that eventually, George would say enough was enough and stand up for himself. He'd put his foot down, step up as a husband and father, and things would become what she always wanted. She was the one always telling herself, "Someday. Someday..." until the point we see her at during the dinner scene, where she knows that "someday" isn't going to ever happen. Things are just the way they are, and she has to deal with it.

This was a lot, but I have a lot of feelings about the McFly family and how they operated in their day to day life. Especially the implications of the McFly sibs (Marty in particular!) being raised in such an emotionally disjointed environment. Ugh, those gifs of Lorraine make me so sad. The whole thing is sad.

Thanks for the ask, though! I want to write another Twin Pines McFly fic now.

#asks #back to the future #bttf #no but i could write a whole series of posts on Twin Pines McFlys #and how just that one short scene displays such a sad‚ tense home life #no cohesion. no true connection #checked out dad and depressed mom #& their oldest son who doesn't seem to have his footing in life‚ daughter who feels isolated & frustrated with a lack of social life #& youngest child who's anxious & so incredibly sensitive to rejection & feels directionless & has exactly one (1) stable adult in his life #growing up in that environment does things to you!!#and then Marty is thrown into a Better Timeline with very stable and well adjusted parents but he still was raised with the dysfunction!!#that's still part of him!!! how does he cope!!!!??#losing my mind eric stoltz was right about the ending!!!

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neitherabaron · 2 years ago

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just wanted to ask because i thought the answer might be interesting— what’s been the hardest part of working on the death of byron von raum (and/or any other projects!) so far? and conversely, what’s been your favorite part?

thanks!! hope you’re having a good day :-)

TW: Mental health

I'm gonna try and give you an in-depth answer because I'm super aware that it's been a long time since I provided any real updates on Byron. Your question's very apt because there are things about the project that I absolutely love, and others that I'm really struggling with.

To start with the good stuff - my favourite part by far is the music. I really believe in these songs and the ones I've written so far are killers. There's one about Byron's childhood sung by his parent. It's got an ostinato on violin (and maybe Uillean pipes? budget depending) that runs through it and evenually builds into a sweeping instrumental section with a chord progression I'm a little bit in love with. And the standout song is the one that probably would have been Marius' signature song with the Mechs if we'd gone in that direction back in the day.

But on the other hand, it is very, very difficult for me to work on Byron right now. For a while now I've been searching for the right way to explain that even though I believe in the project, it's not coming anytime soon because of that.

The thing is, the story is bleak. Way, way beyond Mechanisms-bleak. Like, I don't know how it will be recieved by other people beyond the friends I've shared it with, but it's bleak enough that I actually find it really distressing. Somehow I've written a story that pushes almost every one of my triggers and speaks to everything that personally frightens me.

But it's absolutely Marius' story. I can't change it and try to keep it light - everything that can go wrong for these characters has to, must go wrong. I care about them and they start with so little and they lose everything and they're awful to each other in between.

I still work on it, but I have to handle it and myself with care, so there's no timeline or work schedule I'm keeping on it right now. When I have a good idea, I sit and write for an hour if I can. But (and I've mentioned this on my Tumblr in the past without naming the project) every time I do that, I have a panic attack, and I'm on edge for the next 24 hours after. Always. I want this story to exist, but at the moment I don't want to put myself through the experience of making it. It's just me and I have nobody else to back me up. The Mechanisms covered some upsetting stuff sometimes, but we had friendship and support and camaraderie. To make this story happen, it'd probably need to be the main thing I do for about a year. And I don't think I can do that as long as the plot and themes are affecting me like this.

I think I'd also need the plot and characters to have more nuance than I'm likely able to convey in a Mechanisms-adjacent song-narration-song album format. I think I've mentioned in the past that I don't think it's a particularly effective way to convey complex themes, but some elements of the plot demand a deep look at the characters, because they do some truly horrible things and we need to see what brings good people to that point. So if I reach an emotional place where I can work full-time on Byron, I'll probably explore other ways to tell the story. One possibility is doing it as a mini-series with a song in every episode, so I can explore the characters through dialogue. An episodic release might give me a way to work through it at my own pace while looking after myself, I don't know.

I also have to be honest, when I started work properly in January 2020, the world felt like a very different place. With everything that's going on in the world right now, things I couldn't have imagined back then, I don't know the extent to which this story qualifies as entertainment anymore. Would I feel comfortable putting out this story full of war and horror and misery and saying it's a fun thing for people to enjoy?

To tell the truth, I don't think I want to make upsetting things at the moment. I just did Rat-tailed Rover and had a blast. I need to have some surgeries done on my abdomen before I'll be ready to go again, and there's no timer on that, but Carnaval des Gobelins is fully written and ready to record once I'm recovered. And I have so many ideas after that, that I really think I could go as long as people care to listen. I'm having so much fun and getting so much artistic satisfaction writing songs about rat paladins and gay goblins and I'm not giving myself panic attacks doing it. I'm aware that's probably not what some people were hoping to hear re: an update on Byron, but right now I feel like I'd rather make you wonderful people smile, laugh and feel represented than present you with a really bleak story where I make a character you care about suffer over and over again.

Anyone who's been following me here or on Twitter will know that I love Byron, I adore Marius, and I value my time and friendships shared with the Mechanisms beyond anything I've ever done. That's part of who I am. The goodwill of my listeners and the Mechs fandom means the world to me. So this is not me saying that The Death of Byron von Raum isn't coming. But I haven't figured out yet how to deliver it in a way that keeps me mentally and emotionally safe and happy. I don't know when that will be, except that it isn't now. In the meantime, I'm going to throw myself into Carnaval des Gobelins (well, as soon as I've finally had my op - it's been a year and counting) and I'm gonna give you the ten best songs about folklore monsters you've ever heard. And I'll keep it up as long as you're there to listen. Thank you x

#tw mental health #the mechanisms #marius von raum

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unseededtoast · 8 months ago

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Sixteen

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"Either they're lyin' or they don't know what's out there."

The material of the map crinkles in my hand as the wind blows, folding the corner down so that I can't see. With a huff I straighten it back out and try my best to see what, or who, we should be expecting next. So far the map has been pretty accurate and I have no reason to question it, not yet at least.

"Doesn't look like there should be anything for a while." Skepticism is evident in my voice and I pass the map to Joel, who has his hand reached out for it. He looks over the map with his signature scowl plastered on his face.

"Hm. Either they're lyin' or they don't know what's out there." He hands the map back to me, and I fold it back onto itself and put it back in my bag.

Before we leave the farm, Joel insists that he scours the property for another vehicle. He's convinced these people had some sort of transportation. I told him that I don't think they did, that they were entirely self-sufficient here. So now he's looking extra hard just to prove me wrong. We've trekked back into the fields on both sides of the house and have come up empty handed, and unfortunately I don't think that's going to change.

"Hey you think we should just get going?" I ask and stretch my back out, feeling the ache from my uncomfortable sleeping arrangement. The sun is already up and it's probably around noon. Joel sighs and rests his hands on his hips.

"We probably should. I was sure they'd have something." He sounds disappointed as we walk back towards the road. I wish we had found another car but we can't seem to get that lucky.

Once again the two of us are on the road, baking in the afternoon heat. Sweat falls down my back in beads and it negates the cleanliness of the shower I took only a day ago. That farm is sure to be heavily on my mind for a while, and it'll make it difficult to return to Boston on my way back. I'll definitely miss the shower and the berries very much.

And like all the other days of our traveling, my mind begins to wonder out of boredom.

"What did you mean earlier, when you said they didn't know what's out here?" Joel's head turns and he squints in the sunlight. His shoulders shrug,

"Exactly what I said, they don't know." His answer is unsatisfactory and so I press further.

"Do you know what's out there?" I ask, feeling nervousness bubble inside of me with what horrors he could be talking about. Joel sighs and wipes the sweat from his brow.

"Bad people and infected." He keeps it simple, but I know his words are nuanced.

I know Joel well enough by now to know when he doesn't want to talk about something, and I think this is one of those moments. His words become more clipped, his answers as short as possible. Just like yesterday when we were talking about our lives before the fall of society. I drop the subject but the worry is blossoming in my mind.

Bad people can mean a lot of different things. Some may even consider me a bad person for drug running in the QZ. There are too many degrees of bad, but I'm almost certain he's not talking about lowly pill smugglers. There are people like the T group and the deranged men from that town, and I know we're probably going to run into more before our journey comes to an end, it's just inevitable.

But I remember the promise I made to myself back at the campground; I will be stronger. I have to be. Back when I used to run patrols in the QZ I was able to compartmentalize my emotions, and through that I was able to gun down people and infected indiscriminately. Obviously I don't take pride in that, but I know I have it within me to do so.

Out of the corner of my eye I look at Joel and appreciate his broad, strong form. After everything he's done for me, I know that I would kill for him in a heartbeat.

I tear my gaze away from him, not wanting to stare for too long, and move to hold my hair up off of my neck. My hair is wet from sweat and it makes me want to gag, I hate the feeling of being so sweaty and gross, and I'm sure I no longer smell of homemade soap. A hair tie would be a godsend right now, but unfortunately I have none on me. Instead, I opt to just hold my hair up and let the breeze cool me down to the best of its ability.

Joel shoves the sleeves of his shirt up his arms, bunching them around his elbows. From here I can see the sheen layer of sweat that covers him, his golden skin shining subtly in the sun. He reaches around and grabs the bag off his back and the two of us pause in the road as he crouches down. From his bag, he pulls out two water bottles.

"Grabbed these before we left. Here." He hands one of them to me and I waste no time in unscrewing the cap and drinking the warm water. I'm sure I could down the whole thing right here, but I know we have to conserve what we have. Once I've savored a little bit of it, the cap is screwed back on tightly and I put mine in the side pocket of my bag, where the dried bouquet of flowers once sat.

"Thank you." I say once my mouth doesn't feel like sandpaper. Joel only nods his head and we keep moving forward.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, the two of us too hot to say something or focus on anything but putting one foot in front of the other. Luckily, once the sun sets on the horizon, the air loses its humidity and cools down immensely. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle a hot night too.

My hair falls back around my shoulders and the sweat has dried up on my skin, leaving a gross feeling residue. Thoughts of the shower float around in my mind and I wish I had appreciated it more.

Joel and I sit across from each other in the dark, both of us too exhausted to say anything. The heat practically sucked the energy from my body and I'm using most of my remaining strength to stay upright. Neither of us want to attempt a fire tonight and that's fine with me. The cool breeze is a welcome feeling, and I don't necessarily want to breathe in smoke right now.

"I can take first watch." He speaks up as I resituate, moving my bag to my side. My mouth opens to protest, but Joel shoots me a pointed look through the darkness, the moonlight showing how his eyebrow arches.

"Fine. But wake me up after a few hours so I can take over." I give into him, my body feeling wrecked from low amounts of sleep and the uncomfortable couch.

"Sure." He answers as I move my bag around to use as a makeshift pillow. My arms wrap around my body to give myself a sense of safety, even though I know that I'm safe with Joel here. As soon as my head hits the lumpy backpack, I'm dead to the world.

Bright red light shines through my eyelids and I squint from the severity of it. My arm comes up to block the light and I sit up from the ground, noticing that it's morning. Joel never woke me up for my turn. Looking from side to side, I don't see him anywhere, nor do I see his bag. My heart rate increases and my head swivels around to see if there's any sign of him. But there's nothing, it's like he just disappeared.

Quickly, I rise to my feet and shrug my bag back on my shoulders. My mind is still groggy from waking up but I know I have to find him. He could be in trouble. The sound of my breathing invades my ears as I start pacing in circles, a solid plan not coming to mind. Trembling fingers rake through my hair, unable to keep my panic at bay.

Where do I go? What do I do? Why didn't he wake me up? When did he leave?

Questions swirl around in my head, keeping me from being focused and rational. Finding him is the only thing on my mind, driving me close to insanity in such a short period of time. A branch breaking in the woods beside me causes my breathing to cease and I watch, grabbing my knife. The brush rustles around, thick green foliage concealing who, or what, is coming towards me. The smooth handle of my knife cuts into my palm from how tightly I'm grasping it.

I see a blink of something through the greenery and my body involuntarily lunges towards it. As if I'm operating on autopilot my body goes into attack mode and I swing towards whatever is in the brush. My blade cuts through small twigs and a hand catches my arm as I wind up for another offensive move.

"Hey what the hell?!" Joel's voice booms out and he steps forward from the thicket, my arm strongly in his grasp. He's got a deep scowl on his face and my mouth falls slack, eyes blinking rapidly.

"I- You weren't- I thought." A coherent sentence can't be formed in my mind right now and Joel drops my arm and walks past me, back to where we spent the night. I turn on my heel and follow him in shamed silence.

"I was gone for five fuckin' minutes." He mumbles with a shake of his head, and my fear quickly burns into anger. The knife finds its way back into its holster.

"I didn't know how long you had been gone, Joel. I woke up and you weren't here, your stuff was gone. And you never woke me up to take watch. So tell me, what was I supposed to think? As far as I could tell you either up and left me or something bad happened." My skin heats up with my anger. Joel adjusts the straps on his bag and he huffs.

"I was tryin' to let you get a good sleep for once, and I went into the woods to look for a stream or somethin'." His voice is tinged with annoyance which only fuels me further, and I want so badly to fight back, but deep down I know I'll regret it later. So instead, I take a second to compose myself a little before I speak.

"Which is fine, but please, before you do something like that again, tell me. I was scared out of my mind, Joel. If someone had taken you they could've come back and taken me just as easily." My voice is strained as I try to keep the fire of annoyance under control. He stares back at me with a blank expression before nodding.

"Sure." His words aren't quite the apology I was hoping for, but at least he acknowledged my fears.

It's probably hard for him to understand this world from a woman's perspective, he doesn't have to worry about facing the same dangers. There's not a lot of people out here that would imagine trying to take advantage of a grown man like they would a girl or woman.

We start off for the day and I hope we can make good time before the sun gets to be unbearably hot. I love the summer, but I cannot stand being out in the heat like this. It's times like this where I really miss air conditioning and ice. For the rest of the morning I try to keep my thoughts positive and look for things that bring me joy, I don't like starting the day off on a sour note.

The wildflowers growing along the ditch lines are brilliantly colored, though some of them are withered from heat exposure. And the birds are singing their beautiful melodies, some reside on old telephone wires next to one another. Cool breezes blow my hair around and it carries the sweet scent of tree blossoms. My eyes flutter shut as I appreciate the scent, but my peace is soon interrupted.

"I uh, I grabbed these back from the farm." My eyes open and look over to Joel, who holds my gun and hunting knife in his hands. I had forgotten all about them. My eyes flicker from the weapons to his face before I grab them and tuck them into their respective spots.

"Thanks, I guess they just slipped my mind." I say, tightening my thigh holster. The pants from the farm are just a touch too loose on me, and the holster helps keep them up on my hips in tandem with my belt.

"Figured you'd need them back before somethin' happens." He says, pushing some loose curls off of his forehead.

"I've only got a few bullets left, let's hope nothing bad happens for a while." I say, remembering the small number left in the magazine.

"We still have some in the boxes from my store stash." He answers, but I know that when we took out the Fireflies that we ended up using a lot of that reserve.

"Yeah, we should probably keep an eye out for more though." I answer, feeling the heat of the day slowly start to creep up. Joel nods as we continue west.

After a few hours of walking, I'm unable to take the heat. The black shirt I'm wearing is drenched in sweat and my head feels light from dehydration. My hands are on my head, keeping my hair off my neck again, but I feel like my knees could give out at any second. I briefly drop my hair and grab the hem of my shirt to tie it up just underneath my bra in an attempt to cool myself down.

Joel looks over to see what I'm doing and I watch his eyes trail over my bare midriff as I pull my hair back up. He probably thinks it's disgusting how much I sweat, and I would have to agree with him. His eyes quickly avert away from my body and he tries to push his sleeves up even more, his arms covered in sweat as well.

"Up there we can take a break." He points to a large tree that shades the road and I nod, my feet dragging on the asphalt as we trudge over to it.

Once we reach the tree I collapse in the tall grass and sprawl out so that my body can air out. Joel keeps his composure better than I do, he rests against the rough tree bark and sips out of his water bottle. My eyes close when a gust of air breezes past us and I wish that it would cool off. There's no way we can keep going like this.

"Here." Joel's voice causes my eyes to open and I see him grabbing my bottle from the side pocket of my bag. I push myself up to rest on my elbows and take it from him, unscrewing the cap and greedily drinking. The water is hot and disgusting, but my body needs it. I see him out of the corner of my eye, his gaze follows a stray drip of water that runs down my mouth and along my throat, but he quickly looks away.

After I'm satisfied and my bottle is put back away, I lay back on the grass. If I could lay here and never get back up I think I'd die happy. The two of us savor the shade for what feels like hours.

"What if we started walking during the night, when it's cool?" I ask, my throat rough and still dry despite just drinking water. Joel shift his weight around,

"We could, we'd just have to be extra careful." My eye peeks open and I watch as he pushes damp hair out of his face. He's covered in sweat too, I can see the dark stains on his chest and back.

"I'd be willing to take the extra precautions." I push myself back up onto my elbows and notice Joel's eyes flick down towards my bare stomach once more before he makes eye contact with me.

"Then rest up, we've got a long night ahead of us." He says and rests back against the tree.

My eyes close again but I stay alert to every sound around us. In this heat it's likely we'd smell the infected before we see or hear them, but people on the other hand can be quite sneaky. I listen for patterns, or any sound that's too out of the ordinary and the task keeps me from falling asleep.

After a while I sit up, feeling reenergized and notice that Joel has fallen asleep. His neck is twisted at a weird angle, and I'll know he'll feel it when he wakes up. So I get up and carefully slide my bag onto the ground before gently laying him down onto it, as a makeshift pillow like I had done last night. Joel is a lot heavier than he looks, and I'm just thankful that he didn't slip out of my hands. I'm sure he'd be pissed more than ever if I woke him up by dropping his head on the ground. I'll let him rest for a while more until the sun starts setting before I wake him up.

While I waste the rest of the day away I braid grass into little ropes, split some of the blades in half, and just do anything to keep myself from complete boredom. Thankfully my skin has dried off for the most part, leaving behind the sticky residue but I'll take that over being drenched any day.

My gaze ends up falling to Joel and I can't help but wonder how he crossed the country with a young girl. If we struggle to agree on a sleeping schedule then I can only imagine how much he sacrificed to make sure she was taken care of.

Part Seventeen

#joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #the last of us joel #joel the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal #joel miller pedro #joel miller pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us fanfic

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desultory-novice · 2 years ago

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Nintendo Dream #6 RtDL DX Interview Part 2

Here’s the translation-summary for the second half of the RtDL DX interview with Kumazaki and the team, continuing from last month!

...Sadly, it doesn’t come close to answering all our questions. (The True Arena remains a mystery... :sob:) And I get the feeling Kumazaki’s going to continue to be very staunch on not giving away any hot lore deets/timeline information. Ever. But I like that he continues to encourage speculation!

Anyway, read below for the whole thing!

Q: I'd like to ask about the sub-games

-Nishi says since they were deluxe-ifying Kirby Wii, they wanted to enhance the parts of it where everyone could have fun together. The discussion of increasing the amount of sub-games and making them more extravagant led to the idea for Merry Magoland. Due to the desire to have many different generations enjoy them, they pulled popular games from a variety of classic titles and made them four- player.

-Kumazaki says they paid attention to including a variety of play experiences when selecting sub-games, so the experience of playing each doesn't overlap with the others. Man-power wise, it wasn't possible to put everything in, but looking back on it, he says, they miraculously included all their first choices on the initial design document. Ten felt like the right number for this "deluxe" game. They were even able to include some new ones, give them all a unique feel and make them all four-player. He notes as a director on Ultra Super Deluxe (Super Star Ultra) he was in charge of every sub-game there and how difficult it was to design games that used both screens and touch capabilities.

Q: I'd like to ask which of the 10 sub-games everyone has the most feelings associated with.

-Tani says his is Egg Catcher, being the first sub-game in the Kirby series. It was very difficult and so there was some debating about making it more accessible... in the end, they slowed it down some to make it easier. But as you increase in difficulty, it gets about as hard as the original game.

Q: In the original, King Dedede throws the eggs, but here he's an ally. How did you go about solving that problem?

-Tani says that after thinking about it, they gave that role to a robot. It allowed them to re-include the Dedede robot from the Wii version's sub-game, Scope Shot.

Q: Kirby catches the eggs in their mouth, but Meta Knight has a mask and Bandanna Waddle Dee doesn't have a mouth. How did you go about solving this issue?

-Tani says that after thinking about a lot of options they settled on baskets. (laughs) He mentions that Dedede is taller than the other characters so the position he would catch the eggs at would be different. So they fixed that by putting the other characters on raised platforms.

-Watanabe says his favorite is the new game Magolor's Tome Trackers. Because it's Magolor's theme park, they made a sub-game where Magolor takes a big role. The rules are fairly simple, but that gives it lots of replay ability. But there are also fun changes to the conditions and the way it plays by Magolor showing you the back of the book instead or only the color, or taking time before giving you a hint. "My bad! Looks like I showed you the wrong side of the book!" he says, in Magolor-ese, to describe how the gameplay maintains these characterful "Magolor" elements.

Q: Magolor has become a really great character capable of anything now. (laughs)

-Kumazaki says Magolor has grown into a character that can do things they can't have other characters do, something of a rarity in the Kirby series.

-Nakanishi says his favorite sub-games are Checkerboard Chase and Smash Ride. Both can be tricky to control just right, but that makes it more exciting to play with others, and he was very happy they got remade for this game.

-Ninomiya chimes in about Samurai Kirby. It was a sub-game he'd always liked, and while there was some thinking needed to decide how to make it work with four players, its even more exhilarating to win in this version. And that goes for the online version as well. It works with motion controls so you can really pretend to be a samurai.

Q: Samurai Kirby 100 is a game you can play online against others but only once per day. Pleas tell us more about that.

-Kumazaki says most online games involve hanging out in the lobby, chatting with friends, and its very fun. And while the Kirby series has been making attempts at online play with Super Kirby Clash and Dream Buffet, he wanted a game that you can play with no waiting, just a quick, casual investment you could play without any fear.

It's a simple one button game, but they decided, rather than that just being something you could play online, "Wouldn't it be awesome if you could engage in a 100-person battle royal?!" and that was how Samurai Kirby 100 came about.

-Watanabe says they aimed for a goal where you could decide who was best in all the world in a snap. And because it just requires one button press, anyone can have an easy time playing it. It ends quickly too, but they put a lot of effort into the presentation of the game because of that. And you get to see something special if you get 1st place, so he hopes people will keep trying it every day.

[The Symbol of Peace in the Kirby World]

Q: There's an orange butterfly flying near Kirby and King Dedede in the opening and ending movies. Is that the same orange butterfly that has appeared in other titles?

-Kumazaki says that in regards to the story, many times they put much more priority on the game design aspects. But in order to expand upon the world's setting (or if it will make the series as a whole more exciting) they scatter these little seeds that make you think up these deeper connections.

Q: So you're looking/focusing toward the future

-Kumazaki says that the world of Kirby, in order to stay diverse with each entry, has many parallel world elements and unconnected timelines, and he cannot clarify for us if that butterfly possesses the same role in different entries. But that there are elements left in the game that those who want to enjoy the story more can ponder on.

Q: I see.

-Kumazaki says Meta Knight has his airship, the Halberd, that sank in the end of Meta Knight's Revenge. But in a later game, Kirby Squeak Squad, they bring back the sinking Halberd as it's laying at the bottom of the sea in this game. And that there are new stories that can arise from pulling out past story beats like that. Slipping these things in softly can allow those unaware of these to experience the depth of the series' story as well, keeping these elements alive, without interfering in the enjoyment of the series' gameplay.

So if you're unfamiliar with the orange butterfly, it can be a symbol of peace, representing the calm before the adventure kicks in, or the mood of the ending. There are many different points of view you can see it from. Kumazaki wants both those unfamiliar with or not that interested with the story to be able to have their own takes on it and take in the story as they wish.

Q: There's lots of theories/questions though. (laughs)

-Kumazaki says if you play lots of Kirby games then play RtDL DX, you may definitely be thinking "Wait, is that?!" And the fact that the butterfly avoids touching Dedede's head directly but stopping on the flower instead... we make little considerations like that.

[Magolor Epilogue where Magolor is the star]

-Kumazaki says the original had The Arena and Extra Mode, which is generally the right amount of volume for a good Kirby game, but since so many people have already played RtDL, they wanted something unknown, like there'd be if this was a new game - something new to enjoy. They also were thinking up something that included a different style of play than that of the main mode.

Four plays is the crux of the game, so you can play as four Magolors in the Magolor Epilogue too, but this is also an adventure to raise up a weakened Magolor and make him strong again. He focused on adding that growth/development part to the "fun, four player action."

-Watanabe says, regarding the gameplay systems, they included mechanics where you could develop the player character as you pleased, something that they haven't done much of in Kirby. It linked up nicely with the story of Magolor picking himself up from losing his powers, easing you into the story nicely.

Q: It's fun to raise characters up like in an RPG

-Watanabe says that outside of connecting the gameplay to the story, another reason they chose this style of gameplay was to make a wide-audience game that anyone could play. This mode unlocks after you've cleared the main mode, so there is a bit of a difficulty curve, but its also balanced so that players who don't like action games can proceed via powering Magolor up enough. We aimed for something playable for action game veterans and newcomers.

Q: By the way, is it possible to complete this mode if you don't power up Magolor at all?

-Watanabe says yes. The challenge stages require specific power ups, but you can play to the end of the game ignoring those. He's done it himself, he says. It's very difficult though, so if you're confident in your skills, please, make the attempt!

-Nananishi says its the kind of challenge they can include because its post-game content. Kirby and the Forgotten Land's copy ability upgrade system was well-received. This game's system is a bit different, but Kirby hasn't really been a series with elements where your abilities change as you grow, so they look forward to how these different elements will be received.

Q: Why did Magolor's outfit turn gray?

-Kumazaki says they made it white to show how he'd lost his powers after "a certain fight." It visualizes how he's lost all his energy. He's not going to elaborate on the series timeline, but there are things in RtDL DX that lean toward connecting the various stories.

Q: So, he's out of energy?

-Kumazaki says the other reason he's dressed in white is that in RtDL, there are these dimensional rifts that allow you to travel through a variety of worlds, and so Magolor's clothes are white to make you think "Oh wait, does it mean this?!" There's a bit that hints at this, so I'm happy if you complete the epilogue and are able to feel "Aha! So that's why he's dressed in white!"

<LATE EDIT: Sooo, I was in a rush when I wrote this and didn’t double check even though it pinged something in my brain (Bad Dess. Always double check!) but there is some implication, notably in the fact that Kumazaki corrects the interviewer gray > white and some obscure/older meaning behind the word “white clothes” that they’re also meant to be funerary garb.>

Q: By the way, you can play as four Magolors in multiplayer mode, but is this magic or some other established ability to split oneself?

-Kumazaki says that in Star Allies's post-game content, Heroes in Another Dimension, Kirby can transform into the Dream Friends themselves. Because it's otherwise very hard for Player 1 to play as the Dream Friends in Star Allies, so he wanted a special kind of game experience where you could control them all at the end. Lots of unusual things occur in the space known as Another Dimension, but... they realized it would cause less unease if you could just be four Magolors rather than Magolor somehow being able to summon Kirby, King Dedede, Meta Knight, and Bandanna Waddle Dee to journey with him. It also makes it more of a Magolor Epilogue because its only Magolor.

Q: It's sure something to play with four people as four Magolors. (laughs)

Unlike with Kirby and the Amazing Mirror, where Kirby is divided into four by Dark Meta Knight at the start of the adventure, nothing happens to cause this. We just wanted to emphasize the fun of playing together as four Magolors gathering power and growing. This is just something conceived of to be unique and fun to this game.

Q: On the note of the four Magolors, tell me about being able to play as four Kirbys of differing colors.

-Kumazaki says the point of the multi-color Kirbys is so that everyone can be the main character. We had something similar in Star Allies with the helpers, but outside of Kirby, those are generally controlled by the CPU to help out and add elemental abilities.

Q: The helpers give off a strong impression of being support to Kirby during Kirby's own adventure.

-Kumazaki says that in contrast to that, the multi-colored Kirbys are distinct for letting everyone be the main character, and everyone play as Kirby. It's a difference of theme. To match up with the theme of the game, everyone can play as a Kirby of a different color. Because the helpers are identified as helpers, they're really support roles that exist to fulfill a need in the series.

[Kumazaki looks back at 30 years of Kirby]

Q: It's been a packed 30th anniversary.

-Kumazaki says with the goal of making the 30th a big celebration, they worked together with teams and departments outside of just Japan, all toward this one goal, and that he was glad they did. It was very difficult of course, but everyone put their all into "Let's make the consumers happy!" and "Let's make this 30th huge!" It was thanks to this clear goal that Kumazaki and everyone else was able to keep moving in the same direction and that everything was done with excitement and that you can feel the team's energy.

Q: You released three vastly different games this year.

-Kumazaki says for him, the biggest challenge was making those three games. It wasn't just because it was the 30th or to release a new Kirby title, but because they wanted to make the very best title they could that they were able to release three titles exactly on time for the 30th. But the Music Fest, that was definitely prepared especially as a 30th anniversary celebration.

Q: It was really impressive that you made that happen.

-Kumazaki says that he feels as if Kirby has grown much larger thanks to all the events packed into the 30th anniversary celebration. Kirby was 9 years old when he entered HAL Laboratory (2002) so it was just before the 10th anniversary. Now it's been 20 years and you see Kirby in all kinds of places. Kirby dolls hanging on students bags, Kirby merchandise for sale in storefronts, and Kirby prizes at gaming arcades. He says that back during the 20th anniversary, it was still somewhat rare to see Kirby merchandise around. There are many more opportunities to see Kirby in games and elsewhere in just these 10 years. From the first entry to Kirby and the Forgotten Land, not just in Japan but all over this wide world, support for Kirby really has grown. He felt that with the scale of the Music Fest, compared to the orchestra concert celebrating the 25th anniversary just five years ago. The deep feeling that Kirby is loved by so many all over.

Q: You worked person-to-person with the sound staff on the Music Fest while making those three new games, right?

-Kumazaki says it was incredibly difficult. (laughs) The peak of difficulty was Dream Buffet's development falling right when the end of production for the Music Fest was happening. I was listening to songs from the Music Fest in one ear and BGM tracks from the games with the other. We'd made the plan to announce Dream Buffet on stage during the Music Fest, so I made those announcement preparations with the feel of "We're working on it RIGHT now!"

Q: You did the voice of King Dedede for the HAL Laboratory Dream Band King Dedede Fest" didn't you?

-Kumazaki says about that, they didn't rehearse his part in the song before the event. (laughs) After hours at Kirby Cafe Tokyo, they did rehearsal and recording all in the short space between then and opening the next day. "I'll do it!" he thought to himself as he joined in, thinking it would please the fans.

Q: With the release of Kirby and the Forgotten Land, the scope of what a Kirby game is has increased, and many people are looking forward to what's going to come out next.

-Kumazaki says as new ways of play are discovered, evolutions and enhancements on types of play increase as well, with things like additional growth parameters but they generally want to see player's growth and proficiency at the controls of the action games they play. The scope of the games has increased, but push it past a certain line and it really would become an RPG, and that action (the genre) and learned proficiency are very important to Kirby, so he's going to continue thinking about that balance going forward. Which is quite challenging.

Q: That brought us the "Magolor Epilogue" right? Magolor did no talking on his own, the whole story till the end was communicated in that fashion. Very well done.

<They're talking about the fact that he doesn't talk to anyone else to explain the story or his feelings while you're playing the game, yet you still understand the narrative. Obviously, he still has some dialogue when you power him up.>

-Kumazaki thanks the interviewer, saying that with an action game, its good to have a story you can read between the lines. And, he adds, the reveal that Magolor('s ears) was dark brown/black underneath his hood was always there from the beginning of his creation.

Q: Lastly, please share let us hear your enthusiasm as we move into the 31st year of the Kirby series.

-Kumazaki says that the 30th anniversary came about because of the hard work of staff and most of all, the cheers of so many fans. The games, the music fest, the events and merchandise. FL is the series first main line 3D action game, Dream Buffet lets you compete against others online, and now this game, a deluxe remake of an 11 year old 2D action game, so there's a great variety of Kirby for the fans to enjoy.

That the team had been feeling this after the 20th anniversary, but with the growth of the staff, while they were able to deliver almost non-stop Kirby titles, presenting nothing but traditional 2D sidescrolling action titles alone might put the series in a rut. That's why with much work, they try to change up the world, the graphics, and the style of play, but the series needs even more variety going forward. Now, at the 30th anniversary, the team has gained so much more experience and are ready to challenge new types of play. It's a big thing to deliver a diverse lineup of titles. But there are still things left undone and new challenges ahead. They don't want to be limited to just mainline titles and specific staple genres and are making preparations to deliver an even more diverse Kirby series to the world. Please look forward to what the new Kirby series will continue to have in store!

#Kirby #Kirby series #RtDL DX #Magolor #Merry Magoland #long post #Dess Text Post

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elliscousland · 6 months ago

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there has been a shift in how i write ellis from how he began & how i write him now. this is to be expected with any muse, when we write we are constantly working on evolving & building on our characters.

but since i retook ellis' mbti test recently (+bonus post) it kind of dawned on me how different he is? a few years ago when i started working on him i do believe he was an istp but that has changed over the years & when i retook the test i got enfp for him ( which i think fits really well before the blight & in his bg3 verse but i think afterwards he kind of leans more towards an infp personality type ) but it just put a few things into perspective of how i've developed him.

a large part of what's changed also is tht i've definitely leaned into him coming at things from a more creative approach, which doesn't always work out for him. i've also sort of made a huge shift between where he started as a very closed off character to being more of a bleeding heart type. which like i knew was like a big change but also i think makes a lot of sense to me? because i love the thought of him being like very easy to read in the moment without being clear about why he's at where he's at.

but this has also lead to me taking away some points in his logic zone if that makes sense??? bcs he did used to kind of have a cool approach to problems when i originally made him, which lead him to make brutal & effective decisions. but i've made a shift so that instead of that brutality coming from a cold place, it comes from a fire within that eats up his logic if that makes sense??

which like lead me to a string of thought about him being unknown as a theme i have always loved playing with. like this goes for anyone, any character but it is difficult to know everything about someone / someone's truth. i have been thinking really hard about how i've also shifted to ellis craving approval from the people he cares about instead of totally dismissing it as something he doesn't need / deserve. like if he doesn't care about someone he's not going to care about what they think about him at all but it's wayyy different when it comes to the people he wants to have around him. which will probably get a post in itself someday tbh.

but this has lead to a really fun duality in him of needing that approval but jumping to the conclusion that he is not going to get it / preemptively shutting himself off. it's like a mirror of where i started with him but like there are more layers to it now & like i want to dissect it someday but i also want to rework old headcanons & just rework soooo much that it is so tough to figure out where to start.

there are so many contradictions in him that it absolutely is a disservice to him to try & boil him down to a personality type & say ' wow this is what he is limited to being ' especially w him going through so many changes in his timeline i am just thinking today abt how much he's changed as a character over the years. this is more just me rambling on the dash than like an actual dissection of anything tho

#ooc.#hc.#sort of #it's more of a ramble #i am just thinking about how much he's changed over the years #i've embraced his gemini i think #he acts like a fucking air sign now ( affectionate )

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the-haunted-office · 1 month ago

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There's an interesting aspect to Doom's and James's characters and their dichotomy that I want to talk about, but it's kind of difficult to explain. I'll try, though, because I think it's kind of important!

In the meta of how my muses and their personalities and the way they fit together work, there's a lot of opposites, push and pull, and fitting together in that aspect. Like with Cyrus and Thursday and the way they worked together as Narrators - Cyrus was very strict and set in his ways and wanted to stick to the Story, while Thursday was more lenient and open to change. They clashed a lot, but at time it was their differences that allowed them to work really well together, especially for Stanley and the overall benefit of the Story.

You may have noticed a pretty significant change in Doomsday's overall demeanor over the last few weeks, and how it has coincided with the end of the #the only way in is the only way out plot and the death of her sister, and then how James was introduced not too long after.

In the character meta of how my universe here works, whenever a character dies or part of them dies, their personality or parts of them sort of shift around and coalesce into a new character or multiple other characters. It's like they get reincarnated, in a way. It's a new person, a new soul, but their personality and aspects of them are reused or rebirthed, repurposed, reformed. The end is never the end. Things always come back, in one way or another.

I feel like some part of Doomsday died while in Dimension 42. I'll see if I can explain it, although it's kind of difficult.

It might have been hard to notice, but for all of Doomsday's boasting and strutting around like she didn't care what anyone thought, there was actually a big part of her that did care what people thought of her. Not necessarily what people thought of her as far as how she looked or what they thought of her personality, but she desperately wanted to be accepted. She was desperately wanting a friend, someone to care about her, someone to listen to her, someone to be with her, someone she could trust, someone to stay with her and not leave her. She was constantly putting on this big act of not giving a fuck and making sure to chase people off and say, "Hey! I'm doing whatever the fuck I want and having fun doing it! But also fuck you! Stay away from me!", but if anybody saw past that barrier and stuck with her, she loved that! The trouble was, hardly anyone ever did. But if she behaved the opposite way and tried to behave and do whatever it took to please people too, that never worked for her either. So she chose to put on a big show because it was at least more fun for her and to some degree, she thought it would earn her more respect from others. At least it got her more attention than if she was more reserved and kept to herself.

Being in Dimension 42, after she tried everything she could to stop her sister from dying, in the end it wasn't her choice. There was nothing she could do. Doom was so used to being the one in control, being the one who could break the Narrative, but this time she had no control. The Narrative was a collective of herself from across all timelines and dimensions, and her sister, Thursday, chose to join them. It wasn't her choice - it was Thursday's choice. The tower broke, and Doomsday was thrown out of Dimension 42 and back into the Office. Thursday died, she chose to die, and become part of the Narrative, and Doomsday has no choice, except her own choice, which was to live.

Now here she is, living with that choice, and the choice her sister made. The part of her that died that day in Dimension 42 was the part of her that thought she had the choice to change others. She could always influence others. No matter what happened, she could always charge in there and change things. She could put on this big show and make people hate her. Or maybe she could make them love her instead, if she just tried hard enough...

Except... she can't. Nobody can. You can't make anybody do anything. It's not a choice you can make. Only people can make their own choices.

Doomsday went off to be by herself for several weeks after this event, and you'll notice when she came back she changed her outward appearance. Cut her hair short and is wearing different clothes. She wanted to change some things about herself to be more like herself now, less flashy, and with cutting her hair she couldn't take looking so much like Thursday - it was too painful for her. She effectively discarded the part of her that felt like she had to act a certain way to get attention from others, whether it was to make them run away from her, or to make them look at her. Now, she just doesn't care anymore.

And then James shows up. And what is he like? He... wants... attention. No matter what it takes. And what's one of the first things he does? Tries to get together with Doomsday. Wants her attention. Is all over her. And she rejects him.

Isn't that interesting? When you put it all into the context of how the meta of character building works in my universe and everything. It's like these pieces of Doomsday are trying to fit themselves back together, but the greater part of her doesn't want anything to do with the part she just got rid of. Not sure what this means for them in the future, but at the present it means that Doom will continue to reject James while James is going to continue to try to get her attention, and the attention of anyone who is willing to give it to him, by any means necessary.

#🌙 doomsday #🏃‍♂️ james wolfe #headcanons #long post #cw long post

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khaleesiofalicante · 10 months ago

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Today I come to you with: A lot of questions (you probably won't answer but still need to put them out there). Without further ado:

Can I just say that I called it? It's so much different when we finally get to see the way people in the Other Timeline lived. So much pain, and the death of one person can prevent that from happening, and David Max Rafael Alec and Magnus haven't seen it, so they don't know. David probably wouldn't care(or would he hesitate a little? I'm not sure). But a trip to the future would be enough for the others to change their tune I think. Or maybe not?

I have a feeling Magnus/Other Magnus trying to choke each other is a misunderstanding. Like Magnus tries to reach out but because it's from a different time line Magnus feels like getting chocked so he fight back and Other Magnus is surprised that he would get attacked because he doesn't know he's initiating it. I have a feeling if Magnus stops fighting that they'll be able to communicate?

I also have a feeling that Magnus seeing Older Max helps him connect some dots that somehow make it that he is the one who changed the timeline

Will Older Max try to figure out who changed the canon event and will the person responsible try to hide it or come out with it to Older Max?

So Arthur doesn't have to die in every world or does he die at a different age?

Lance was supposed to die after Arthur but Arthur saw him in France so he could see the future where they changed a canon event like Lucifer. So if Arthur saw it Lucifer does too which means he knew they would end up changing a canon event- it wasn't news to him and there wasn't a way to stop it right? From the moment Older Max starred visiting, things would go that way?

In the Other Timeline Blackbane didn't meet, so they're not a canon event?

Older Max (because now that I saw how hurt he was by being called Other Max I don't like using it) changed a lot of things in the other timeline. Did anyone in the Academy run the possibility of Lance not fullfiling the prophecy after having made connections in Idris? (Closer to Rafe and Cami, in love with Theia, knowing Arthur loved Kincaid etc?). Like Lance didn't get to destroy Idris in the current timeline, are they sure that he would've?

If they knew that Lucifer was the one that killed Arthur in the Other Timeline, it's impossible for Lucifer to manipulate Lance into doing his bidding/blaming Idris. But I always felt like it would be incredibly difficult for Lucifer to manipulate Lance in any scenario- that boy is very shrewd and would've seen right through it. So how did he end up doing what Lucifer wanted? What exactly went down? Nobody knows what went down in the pandenium or Idris right? Will we find out or is it unimportant?

I love Max more than anything, that boy gets tortured everywhere and he doesn't deserve it. And what's worse people don't recognize it as much as they should or as much as they do David's trauma because he hides it better? Someone give that boy a hug and a break in all the universes and timelines, he deserves it!🥺 (They all deserve that, I want to make that clear, but I think this is Max's week with everything we've read, so let's focus on him right now)

Dots are starting to connect finally and I'm so excited to see how things will go down! But I feel like Older Max keeping Mavid in New York and not severing themselves from the shadoworld is super important, because it didn't allow the family to be so separated so now they have the chance to fight united, whereas in the First Timeline, Mavid was so secluded it would've been super hard for all of them to stand together. Of all the changes, that seems the most beneficial. And Kincaid of course.

PS: When I tell you I'm ready to go full Sherlock Holmes and explore the David/ Madeleine dymamic, the way they both acted after the deaths of their loved ones, from our reactions as readers to why I believe they have different triggers and it may have been different if the same things had happened in another world, I'm being deadly serious. It will be an essay so be prepared.

Thank you for an amazing chapter that blew our minds. Allergies suck and not being able to use your body as you want is very annoying. But you still gave us a huge chapter to obsess over and you deserve a huge round of applause. Again, thank you 🌼💛

I was wondering why you kept saying Older Max and then I read your reasoning and NOW I AM EMO.

It's always easy to judge someone when we don't know their story. So, of course. But it's hard to judge who will sympathize with him EVEN if they see the Other World. Magnus probably? Alec for sure. David is extremely unlikely, I think. That bitch will watch the world burn.

We gotta wait and see on this one. It's messy.

He's definitely gonna connect dots (Especially since Hermes told him some stuff too)

We'll find out before this season ends hehe

If your death is a canon event, you die at the same age. So, ONLY because his death/canon event was changed did he actually live past 15 in IALS. So, no, he won't die (prematurely) in any universe.

Lucifer def knew these hoes were going to a change a canon event.

That's not how it works. Lance and Theia are a canon event - which means they will end up with each other and not someone else. But it doesn't mean they will end up together against ALL odds. Like, if Lance died prematurely, it won't happen. But if he had lived, he would have eventually ended up with her (Even if he was removed from the shadow world in that timeline)

No. Their math (lol) told them two things: one, arthur is DEF gonna die. and two, when he does, Lance will be triggered. Nothing and no one else has anything to do with it. The issue here was that arthur's death was a canon event and it couldn't be changed in any way (OR SO WE THOUGHT?)

Several things here. We'll never know what went down in the pandemonium in the other timeline. We knows bits and pieces of what happened in Idris (Lance didn't kill anyone - he basically died/burst kind of - and the "door" between the demon world and human world was destroyed so it both converged - killing people). As for Lucifer, I wouldn't underestimate him. With him, it doesn't matter smart you are or brave you are. He knows how to get to you. And he doesn't fuck around with his methods. Very straightforward guy hehe.

VERY GOOD POINT.

I will await your David/Madeleine essay! There is a scene between them in the coming chapters that i can't wait to write!!!

Thank you for the love and yes i've been sick since yesterday and i hateeee it. hopefully i will recover soon x

#lbaf

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ssinnerplazahotel · 4 months ago

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╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Fifteen*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC: 5k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, toxic elvis, manipulation, drug use, it’s the 50s/60s, painful-difficult-devastating-life-changing-extraordinary love

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Disclaimer: full of inaccuracies, inaccurate timeline, inaccurate depictions of Graceland, historically inaccurate themes and items

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

finale pt. 2

“They want you for the cover of Harper’s Bazaar.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

“Because they think you’re ‘extraordinarily beautiful,’” He said, quoting the request directly. “‘Otherworldly.’

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Well, I happen to agree that you’re out of this world.”

He smiled as you sat down in his lap, hugging his neck as you glanced over the letter. You thought about the offer for a moment.

“You don’t have to think about it too much,” Elvis said when he noticed your contemplation. “I’ll tell them you don’t want to do it.”

“Will you do it with me?”

“They didn’t ask me, dirty bird, they asked you.”

You laughed. “I know but…we do everything together.”

You knew if Elvis was on the cover they’d hardly spare you a glance. Doing it alone opened up the floor for criticism—criticism you no longer had the tolerance for. Though the hit pieces you saw were few and far between (Elvis made sure of that) you knew there was another level of hate out there.

“It should be all about you,” He said. “You have a few months to make up your mind.”

“They may not want me in a few months.”

“Why’s that?”

You shrugged dismissively. “I might be pregnant.”

You felt him tense beneath you. “You think?”

“I don’t know,” You said. “I’m late but…I’ve been late before.”

“They said there was a chance~”

“I don’t want to get excited. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“That mindset won’t get you far.”

“And being optimistic will?”

You stood up before he could respond, taking the lighter from the corner of his desk. He watched you wordlessly as you took a cigarette from its case and lit it.

“How late?”

“Don’t start with the questions, E.”

He stood with a sigh, dropping the pen that he had been fidgeting with. “Well, let me know when you start giving a fuck.”

You faced him. “You’re upset?”

“No.” You stopped him from leaving. “Birdie, I don’t care if you don’t.”

“I care,” You said. “I’m just scared.”

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then that’s just it.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do understand.”

“Do you know what a miscarriage feels like?”

He retracted, but he was still upset. “I don’t see the point in trying if we’re gonna ignore it when it happens.”

“I’m not ignoring it,” You said. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well.” He walked past you. “I guess we’ll see.”

The months slipped by agonizingly slow. It was a miserable day every day you woke up still pregnant. It wasn’t that you hoped for another miscarriage, you just hated the anticipation of it all. It was hard to even acknowledge the fact.

You were measuring small, even towards the end of term. The doctors told you it was due to stress. It wasn’t the baby that was stressing you out however.

“I can’t believe I’m the one telling you that we need to get some things in order around here,” Elvis said, forcing you out of bed. “That sucker’s gonna pop out any day now, honey. They told us that weeks ago.”

“It’s fine,” You complained. “I’m sure someone will have the room ready overnight if you ask them.”

“This ain’t the inn, birdie,” He said. “You don’t just put it together in one day. Shouldn’t you have some kind of maternal instinct by now?”

You weren’t prepared to have a baby, let alone be a mother. You feared that you’d mess it up, like you mess up everything else.

“Come help me put this thing together,” Elvis said, returning to his passion project for that afternoon—the baby’s bassinet.

“Put it together in the nursery,” You said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It doesn’t make sense to do it here.”

“She’s not sleeping alone in a nursery,” He said. “You gotta keep her close the first few months at least. Unless you want a psychopath on our hands.”

“You read too much.”

“You don’t read enough.”

“Down the hall isn’t close enough?”

“Don’t be cruel.”

You watched him as he intently read the instructions word for word—ordering you around as he did so.

“A should snap into D,” He said, pointing the pieces out to you. “And B into C.”

“What?”

“A and D, B and C.”

“That’s so stupid.”

“Let me do it.”

It felt like everything was happening to you. You were nothing more than a variable in this equation and life was insistent on working you out.

“Just breathe for a second~”

“Is it happening?”

“Calm down~”

“Is it really happening?”

“Birdie, relax.”

You couldn’t, how could you? You were in labor, actual labor. Elvis had kept his wits about him when you told him but that didn’t stop you from succumbing to the feeling of impending doom that you had been trying to outrun for the past eight and a half months.

“Get off the phone, E,” You said, rushing him along. “We need to get there before they really start. I can’t handle it.”

“I’m coming,” He said, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “Go get dressed, you can’t go out like that.”

“I’m going to have a baby.”

“Go change,” He insisted. “You could use the distraction while I get this together.”

“Please hurry,” You said, going to find something decent to wear. “I don’t want to feel anything. I can’t take it, I already told you~”

“I know, darlin,” He said halfheartedly. “We’re practically already there.”

You were fully in labor when you arrived at the hospital and barely in time for the epidural. But, after twelve and a half hours, you were welcoming your first daughter into the world.

It was a moment that already felt surreal in your head but even more so as you watched it all play out in front of you. It was painless—as painless as it could be—and you were happy. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. In reality, you had no idea what you were feeling.

“Birdie?”

“Hm?”

“Her name.”

Your eyes met Elvis’s as you held your daughter. He looked down at the both of you with such admiration.

“Are you asking me what it should be?”

“No, I’m telling you.”

“Birdie’s no name for a baby, E.”

“It could be.”

You looked down at the child in your arms, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands balled into tiny fists. “How about…Lark?”

“…I like it.” Elvis kissed your temple before leaning his head against yours and looking down at his daughter. “Y’know…we’re gonna have to tell the press soon.”

“Yeah, I know,” You responded. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.”

“It’s no rush.”

“Of course it is. They’re probably camped outside waiting.”

You turned your head when he didn’t respond, finding a telling expression on his face. “E…they are not camped outside waiting.”

“I don’t know how they found out~”

“Why would you say anything about telling them if they already know?” Your shift in tone startled the sleeping newborn in your arms, causing her to fuss. “Oh god, take her please~”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You weren’t sure if he was consoling you or the baby as he took her and stood from the bed. “It’s okay, hunna.”

You stared in the direction of the window, unable to see out but still picturing the press crowded around the building.

“What are they saying?” You asked, looking at him. “I know you’ve heard something so don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” He said in a hushed tone, walking the baby over to the crib that the hospital provided. “It’s just a shock, really. Most of the reactions are good.”

You didn’t believe him but you didn’t argue. You were too tired to go back and forth any longer.

After a restless night, you were awoken by Elvis saying that you were being discharged.

“Liz is here.”

“Why?”

“We have to go through the press to get out of here.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“They want to see us.”

You went through hair and makeup, nursing Lark along the way. You handed her off quickly after she was fed.

“Doesn’t hurt to hold her sometimes, bert,” Elvis said.

“Please don’t start calling me that,” You complained tensely as Liz zipped the back of your dress. You could hardly breathe in the stiff fabric.

“You don’t like it?” He laughed.

“No,” You exclaimed. “How do you get ‘bert’ from ‘birdie?’”

“D’You hear it, Lizzie?” He asked.

Liz shrugged and muttered something about hearing where he’d gotten it from.

“I can’t hear it,” You said. “I also can’t breathe.”

“You definitely don’t look like you had a baby twenty-four hours ago,” Liz said, adding the final touches. “They’ll love it.”

You enjoyed your brief interactions with Liz. She wasn’t talkative—by nature or per Elvis’s request you didn’t know. She finished up and left.

“What’s wrong?” Elvis asked when she was gone, laying the baby down.

“I don’t want them to see me,” You confessed. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”

“Why?” He wondered. “You’re beautiful.”

Your eyes threatened to roll at the compliment. You didn’t feel beautiful. You felt sore and tired—all but beautiful.

“It’ll be quick,” Elvis said. “Like tearin off a bandaid.”

The nurses insisted that you be wheeled to the car but you politely declined. You could make it walking.

Lark was carried out in her car seat first, heavily protected on all sides before you and Elvis casually strolled out of the building. It was pure chaos outside but you tuned everything out. When you finally made it to the car Elvis let you in before following suit. It was quick, like he promised.

“Andrea?”

You were shocked to see her waiting for you in the foyer when you arrived back at Graceland. She stopped you before you grew excited.

“I came back for the baby.”

You smiled despite her cold demeanor. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

Her expression softened when Elvis entered with the car seat in tow. He sighed as he shut the front door.

“You came,” He stated.

“For the baby,” Andrea clarified again, kneeling down to peek at her in the carrier. “What’s her name?”

“Lark,” You responded. “Like the bird.”

“You named her after a bird?” Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s sentimental.” You shrugged. “You don’t like it?”

“I think it’s a beautiful name.”

Your head snapped instantly in the direction of Dawn’s voice. She stood off to the side watching the interaction unfold.

“Aunt Dawn,” You said delightfully. “You made it.”

“I promised I would,” She said, opening her arms and wrapping you in her familiar embrace. “I had to see this to believe it.”

You felt small in her arms, like the child you once were. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She rubbed your back as she held you. “I’m here.”

“Let’s get you to bed, little bit,” Elvis said, cutting your embrace short. “Doctor’s orders.”

Things were different around the house with the baby and Andrea. Dawn stayed for a few days but ultimately returned to her house a few minutes up the road.

You promised to bring Lark over as often as you could, and you meant it. You aimed to go over every other weekend, but that changed into whenever Elvis could make the trip. He hated for you to visit Dawn on your own. You hadn’t paid it any mind until she brought it up one evening.

“It’s like he’s afraid to leave you alone with me,” She complained. “I’m your aunt. I practically raised you.”

“It’s not like that, Aunt Dawn,” You said as you buckled Lark into her seat. “He hates for me to travel alone. That’s all. There are crazy people out there.”

“He hates for you to do anything alone. It’s concerning.”

“No, it’s sweet. And he really enjoys our visits.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t do this.”

“I hardly recognize you. You look exhausted.”

“That’s because I am exhausted.”

“Andrea and Joel seem to think~”

“Are you really going to let Joel and Andrea ruin our day? They’re the reason he hardly lets me come over anyway. Have they turned you against him too?”

“My worry for you has nothing to do with my feelings about him.”

“Don’t believe anything they say, it’s all made up.”

“Why would they make these things up?”

“Because they don’t want to see us together.”

Elvis appeared from the house then, carrying Lark’s missing pacifier.

“Where was it, baby?” You asked, ignoring the disconcerted expression on Dawn’s face.

“Under the couch,” He said. “The drive back would’ve been hell without it.”

“You two be careful,” Dawn said. “It’s getting dark soon.”

“We will be,” You said, stepping forward and hugging her. “Don’t worry about me. Please, I’m okay.”

“See you, Dawny,” Elvis said, hugging her briefly as well. “I’ll bring them by again soon.”

“I look forward to it.” She watched the two of you climb into the car and waved as you left.

“What’s got her so worried about you?”

“Hm?”

“Dawn. You told her not to worry?”

You shrugged dismissively. “She’s always like that.”

He hummed, unsatisfied with your response. “Did you say something in particular to get her like that?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know…she said I looked tired.”

Andrea was there to scoop up Lark the minute you got back. She claimed to not trust the two of you alone with her. She meant it as a joke but a part of you couldn’t help but think she was serious.

“I was about to take her upstairs,” You said. “She needs to get changed and fed.”

“I can do it,” Andrea offered as she bounced Lark in her arms. “I don’t mind.”

“That’s alright~”

“Let her do it,” Elvis said. “We’re gonna be down here anyway.”

“I was going to,” You said as he took the diaper bag from your shoulder and handed it off to Andrea. “It’ll only take a second.”

“I don’t mind,” Andrea insisted. “Go relax. I’m on baby duty.”

“Come on, bert,” Elvis said, laughing at the nickname as he guided you away.

You watched Andrea carefully climb the stairs until she was out of your view.

The scene downstairs was too chaotic and you would’ve preferred to be anywhere else. Elvis kept a heavy arm around your shoulders as you sat silently by his side amongst the group.

Despite your presence, there were still numerous women who had taken the same mundane interest in him as the hundreds (thousands, or even millions) who came before them. You couldn’t blame them, or the way they stared shamelessly—he was too beautiful to only steal a glance.

What they wanted from him was surface level, they craved his body, but his mind and soul were yours—some crude part of you wanted them to know that. You felt invisible next to him as their eyes locked on his every move.

“What?” Elvis asked when he noticed you shifting closer.

“I want to go upstairs,” You said, giving him a look and hoping he’d understand. You placed a suggestive hand on his thigh to further express your point. “Please.”

“Don’t, birdie, come on,” He scolded, moving your hand from his thigh.

“I need you,” You said. “Don’t you want me?”

His jaw twitched. “Why are you being like that in front of all these people?”

“They like watching so much, I figured we’d put on a show.”

“What?”

“A show, y’know…”

His eyes narrowed as he processed what you were saying.

“I want them to know that you’re mine,” You confessed.

“And the only way to prove that is to…?”

“Show them.”

“How?” He laughed.

“Kiss me,” You insisted. “Touch me.”

“You’re crazy,” He muttered under his breath. “I don’t know how I put up with you.”

His words hurt but in some sort of satisfying way.

He kissed your cheek and his deep voice vibrated in your ear when he whispered, “Go upstairs.”

You stood, trying not to pout as you left the room. You stopped by Lark’s nursery on your way by and you saw Andrea but you didn't make your presence known as you watched them. She was so good with her.

Elvis came up the stairs as you stood there and you immediately went to the bedroom without a word. You shut the door behind yourself, making him open it moments later.

“What? You have a problem with me?” He asked, slamming the door.

You faced him—crossing your arms.

“How can I help that they were looking at us?”

“They were looking at you, not me.”

“D’you know who I was looking at? You.”

“Do they know that?”

“Who cares what they know?”

“I do.”

“So, what, you want me to fuck you in a room full of people?”

You pushed him away when he stepped closer but even with all your strength he didn’t budge. You struggled against him when he grabbed your wrists, trying to pull away. His grip tightened and he forced you into a rough kiss. As much as you wanted to deny him you gave in quickly.

He made you straddle him when he sat on the edge of the bed, assisting your movements with a tight grip on your waist and making you grind your core against the bulge forming in his pants.

“You’re gonna finish what you were trying to start out there,” He said. “Do you understand?”

You aren’t sure what came over you in that moment, but you brought your right hand up and struck his cheek in one swift motion. He seemed as shocked by the action as you were, his head cocked to the side—frozen for a moment before acting suddenly.

He stood and shoved you onto your back, wrapping a hand around your neck.

You nodded in encouragement. “Hit me back.”

He kissed you, there was a gentleness lingering behind his touch that you wanted him to let go of. “Don’t be brutal.”

“I want it.”

“You want me to hit you?”

“Yes.”

He examined your expression for a moment before pulling away. You waited as he sat back on his heels and silently removed his shirt.

“Take off your dress,” He finally said, waiting expectantly.

You smiled and shook your head ‘no.’ He was on you immediately, forcing you onto your front before unzipping the back of your dress. He stripped you, leaving you in only your heels and panties.

“On your back,” He demanded.

You turned over but immediately lifted your foot, using the pointed end of your heel to keep him from coming closer. He grabbed your ankle and ripped the shoe from your foot before wrestling the other off.

He forced himself between your legs. You tried to push him away but he pinned your hands beside your head—he wasn’t letting up but you could feel his frustration building.

You forced a heavy moan and arched your back, playing up your pleasure and becoming pliant. He released your wrists and you put your arms around his shoulders—you let him kiss you fully before grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling. You tugged harshly and he groaned.

“Don’t do that,” He said through clenched teeth. “Fucking let go.”

“Make me,” You challenged. “Hit me.”

“What’s that do for you?”

“It makes me feel like yours.”

You closed your eyes as he kissed you, releasing your grip on his hair.

“You are mine,” He muttered against your lips. “I don’t have to hit you to prove that, do I?”

“No,” You agreed, trying not to let your excitement show as he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him.

“You’re my girl?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what that means?”

Your eyes widened when his ring and middle fingers suddenly pushed past your lips, forcing your tongue down. You gagged and tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let you. The rings on his fingers clanked uncomfortably against your teeth but you couldn’t avoid them.

“It means—” His face was close to yours. “—that you hold yourself together when other girls make you jealous, you don’t fall apart and turn into a desperate nag.” He only pulled away after you choked, his fingers covered in your saliva. “You should know that by now, birdie. You’re actin like an amateur.”

You hardly had a second to breathe before he was forcing you onto your back.

“You’re always asking why I never use your mouth and you can’t even handle two fingers. It’s fucking adorable.” His words must’ve had the effect he wanted them to, because he laughed when you started struggling again. “You’re just a little girl. You don’t know the first thing about what you’re getting into when you ask me to do shit like this to you.”

“You’d rather fuck one of them?”

“I probably would’ve if it weren’t for your bad attitude.”

You fought harder but he held you down under half his body weight.

“You don’t like that?” He asked knowingly, grunting as he thrusted his touch-starved erection against your core.

“No, I don’t fucking like that,” You spat. “You’re an asshole.”

“Your mouth.” He tutted, disapprovingly.

“Fuck you.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck y~”

You were stunned by the slap that crossed your face. It didn’t hurt but it stung in an addicting way and made you throb with desperation.

“That’s what you want?” He asked, you could hear the panic reserved in his tone. He was checking in.

“Yes,” You reassured him.

“When did you get like this?” He muttered, sitting up and instructing you to remove his belt. “Come on. It’s the least you can do after being such a mean little thing.”

You sat up with him to unbuckle the belt. He took your face in his hands and kissed you, still unable to resist your lips.

“Say you love me,” He demanded, breaking the kiss. “Fucking say it.”

“I love you,” You said. “I love you, I love you, I love you~”

“Alright, shut up,” He interrupted. “You’re gonna get yourself off, d’you think you can do that?”

You followed him as he sat back against the headboard, letting him force you to straddle him. You brought your hand up in an attempt to land your revenge, but he caught your wrist before you could connect.

“Don’t try it again.” He tore your underwear from around your waist, ruining them. “Take my rings off.”

You reached for his hand and he pulled it out of your reach.

“Uh, uh,” He hummed. “Use your mouth.”

You hesitate but parted your lips anyway. He swore as you used your mouth to remove each ring, leaving his fingers glistening with your saliva.

“Last one,” He said as you spit another ring into his right palm and took his left ring finger in your mouth. He hissed as the wedding band slipped from his finger and into your mouth. He stopped you from spitting it out. “Keep it in your mouth. Don’t swallow it.”

You wanted to protest but focused your attention instead on not letting the ring slip down your throat. He kissed your chest as his wet fingers glided through your slick folds.

With his left hand occupied and his right arm wrapped around your back, you had a clear opportunity to land another sharp slap across his cheek.

He released an involuntary gasp upon contact, clenching his jaw and sighing through his nose.

“Spit,” He demanded, holding his left hand out for the ring. You let fall out of your mouth along with the pool of saliva that had collected.

He tossed the ring aside and leaned forward until you laid flat against the bed. He forced his fingers into you, curling them deep.

“It’s not enough that I married you, and gave you my child,” He said through labored breathing. “You want me to use you in a room full of people to prove a point.”

“People you would’ve had the luxury of screwing if I were nicer.”

“You know I say that kind of shit to piss you off.”

You released an accented moan as he slammed his fingers harshly into you, cutting your rebuttal short.

His hand found your throat again and applied more pressure. Your eyes widened in shock when your breathing was interrupted and you struggled to push him off.

“What?” He stopped moving. “Too soft? Harder?”

He waited another second and let go.

“Harder,” You gasped.

“Really?” His thrusts became longer and deeper—making your legs tremble as he reached that spot that made your toes curl. “But you’re crying, mama.”

He knew as well as you did that the tears in your eyes had nothing to do with you crying and everything to do with him choking you moments before. But he’d use the tears as a testimony to your pain if it made you appear frail.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, knowing the answer.

You wanted to tell him to keep going, but it was too much. The last thing you wanted to do was prove him right by affirming your sensitivity. Rather than appear weak, you opted for silence.

“Okay,” He whispered, kissing your lips gently. “I’ll take care of you, darlin, don’t worry.”

He sat up and silently motioned ‘come here’ with both hands—his lids heavy and his pupils blown with lust. You forced yourself to sit up, figuring it best to agree. He wrapped his arms around your torso, expecting you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Stay,” He whispered. “What’re you gonna do?”

“…Stay.” You shivered when he entered you, relaxing into his hold and completely relinquishing your senses.

“Good girl…see? You can be a sweet girl.”

You couldn’t feel anything outside of him. You couldn’t see, hear, smell, or taste anything…only him.

“You walk around like you have so much to prove,” He said, his voice low in your ear. “I don’t know why.”

You couldn’t respond, you couldn’t form any words as that familiar knot started to form in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s like you’re jealous of a couple of strangers,” He continued, rocking his hips upward to thrust inside of you. “Do you want me to treat you like them? Like I don’t know you—like I don’t love you?”

The world fell away and for a moment you were just a body made up of electricity and burning pleasure. Your eyes rolled and you trembled. He kept going.

“Do you want me fuck you like a stranger?” He muttered, you couldn’t tell if he was talking to you anymore.

“Please,” You whispered, encouraging him. “…fuck me like a stranger.”

His hips stuttered and he came instantly, bursting inside of you like a teenager. You felt the warmth of his release pooling inside of you and seeping between your thighs.

You climbed out of his lap, leaving no time for either of you to come down or catch your breath. You tried to turn away—too woozy to get up—but he grabbed you by the arm and made you face him. You wouldn’t look at him, so he gripped your jaw.

“I love you,” He panted. “I…love you. That’s the difference. That makes all the difference.”

You met his eyes. “That makes everything okay?”

“No,” He admitted. “It doesn’t.”

You couldn’t read his expression—his lids were heavy with post-orgasmic bliss. He was still coming down from his high, not speaking for himself but from his pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

You hugged him back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to revel in his apology while he was sorry—because you knew he wouldn’t be for long.

He pulled away from the embrace after a few minutes. “Say it back.”

You smiled, you almost thought he hadn’t noticed. “I love you too.”

He smiled, content.

“You should get back out there,” You said. “Seemed like the night was just getting started.”

“I’m not finished with you just yet,” He said, smirking suggestively. “You’ve awoken something inside of me.”

“Oh no,” You said sarcastically, laughing as his hands shamefully roamed your body. “What have I done?”

“Where’s Lark?”

“With Andrea still.”

“Perfect.”

You squeaked in surprise when he rolled onto his back and pulled you onto his lap.

“Tell me what to do."

You paused. "What do you mean?"

His fingernails grazed your bare thighs as he smiled timidly. "I want you to order me around. Make me do things I wouldn’t usually do.”

You would grow to accept that there would be no final retribution or day of reckoning. No fight, no agreement, no threat, no reconciliation.

Those things didn’t matter when it came to the two of you. At the end of it all—good, bad, ugly and indifferent—you two would remain. It was an undisputed truth…wherever you went, you went together.

You could be opposites, or just alike, it’d make no difference. He could be like the sea. Open, free, abundant in what he could give. Charitable, but indulgent. Hazardous, but certain. You could be like the desert. Brutal, unforthcoming, full of life in some areas but destitute in others. Fertile, but not nurturing. Guarded, but unprotected. You could have been all those things and one simple fact would remain.

Wherever there was Elvis Presley, so too was his baby birdie.

—fin.

#elvis presley #elvis imagine #austin butler #elvis smut #black reader #elvis fluff #elvis presely smut #elvis x black reader #elvis x you #the bikeriders #60s elvis

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poindexters-labratory · 10 months ago

Text

I'm going to scream into the void right now. I don't expect much response in return, I'm more or less using my blog as a medium to explain my emotions to myself. What I'm thinking and what I'm feeling after having a difficult past few days.

For context: My partner of four and half years and I have separated on good terms, fair terms, and I'm not really sure what to do. Toward the end of this relationship, I had found myself predicting every possible situation and where every outburst might potentially occur. They were an explosive person, but not in a malicious way, more so in a way that they didn't know how to control. We decided it would be best if they left to learn how to control it.

At the moment, we're taking a weeklong break of no contact, maybe longer, but that's what they've told me before we start conversating again and start on the road to becoming friends. I'm, again, putting this on the blog because I don't have any specific person I can confide in about how I'm thinking and feeling about this large change in my life. They were everything to me, legitimately the only person I had to go to for things like that.

When you know someone for that amount of time, when you're as young as I am, knowing someone for four and a half years takes up a lot of time in the mind. From the point right before I started my freshman year of high school, to eventually now, where I'm almost a year out of school. And when you talk to the same person pretty much every day, there's this thing that happens, especially to folks like me that have brains wired in strange ways, to where everything all the time at every point of everyday centers around them. A dependence. An addiction.

I was hurting, I am consciously aware of my situation and I am consciously happy to get out of what I know is a bad situation, but my soul aches for just one more conversation, one more word, one more stupid meme that will give me that hit of dopamine that reassures me, "There's someone who cares about you."

It's very strange to be so attached to a person, like you have no idea what to do when they're suddenly ripped from you. I'm depending on them to make me feel worthy of everything that I have ever done or have ever thought of doing. And now that security is gone, and now I have to be brave enough to confide in someone else, learning along the way that I cannot depend on a single outside piece of reassurance constantly.

Somehow, with a mind that has been constructed only to be able to love myself whenever outside sources tell me that I should because of the things that I can do. How talented I am, how smart I am, how wise and thoughtful I am. Somehow, that mind has to find that outside source from within and at the moment, that sounds downright near impossible.

My mind has also been made to solve problems. I'm not very book smart, but I figure myself to be emotionally intelligent enough to try to help and encourage other people, and more recently, that includes myself. I've been trying to keep up with taking care of myself physically and emotionally. But there are going to be moments where I fall and feel like in that moment, I can't get back up without help. And it's good to need people, but I need my circle to be more than just one dependent who does all the work.

Loneliness is difficult. I've faced loneliness for most of my life. People don't want to be your friend on the playground when you're odd and prefer your own company. Even in the company that I did find when I was young, they eventually went away. I've moved over nine times in the span of 18 years and it's not a fun experience having to uproot the life you made every couple of years to leave and start a new one. That means leaving people behind.

But recently with the power of technology, I had been able to keep up with my partner. I was fourteen when I got my first legitimate smart phone, and they were the only person I would talk to on it. Putting that small timeline of four years into perspective that we got together right after I received my first hand-me-down phone and now I'm on Tumblr posting Five Nights at Freddy's fanart and buying MatPat's last merch run is absolutely bonkers to think about.

That's only a small percentage of my life and I'm sitting here in agony and emotional belief this is the end of the world. Absolutely it isn't, but it's still pain that's here in the present and I have to acknowledge the present day and my emotions or else it means so much disrespect to my future and past. I didn't come this far into my life to essentially burn down all that progress, and I don't think my future is going to be so happy if I give up on it.

I have to remember, and I'll deliberately have it here to reread if I ever need it, that I'm capable. I'm capable of making change, of changing, of striving to be the best version of myself that I can comfortably be, of doing things on my own, and I'm capable of asking for help whenever I feel I need it. I need to listen to my body, my mind, and my soul so much more intently than I have before so that I don't end up in a pit of despair and disappointment. It's not good for me and it doesn't make me a pleasant person to be around.

I need to trust that the people that I love, love me. I need to remember that there are connections waiting to be explored, discovered, and cherished just as much as I cherished this person. I still do cherish and love them very deeply, I never won't. I believe people are capable of changing if they're willing to put in the work and effort, and they are a very hardworking person. But so am I.

I'm not afraid of the hurt or the aching. It's evidence of love with nowhere to go and I will cherish those feelings and I will be saving them, experiencing them. I'm more afraid of what I am going to do now. I guess the next step will be continuing to work on and toward what I'm passionate about.

I am not angry, I am not spiteful or vengeful. I simply will be forever grateful for the times and moments we shared, and the new moments we will have. Even if it is for short specks of time.

This has been a moment of peering into Poindexter's mind.

(pic of my cat for good vibes)

#poindexterchatter #text post #rambling #teeny tiny vent #thinking with poindexter #i have a slow processing speed #so it really helps to talk it all out #addiction mention #happy ending #apologies for the outloud thinking #i'm aware this isn't what I usually do #but i'm just living life rn

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