#but then undoing the characters' emotional reactions to those things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

Text

Pink Scarf - PART 13 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Spanking. Dom!Elvis and dom/sub dynamics. Rough sex. ANGST. Panic attack (sort of?). Jealousy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 5,073

A/N: Woo baby, here we go again, ya'll! I know some of y'all were feeling lots of things after Part 12, so here's the hopefully-interesting conclusion to that particular encounter. But be warned, Reader and Elvis are very much still going through it with a lot of big emotions and reactions to those emotions.

(Also, the convo about the moon is real *sob*, though of course not to our reader originally.)

You will also notice the addition of the Pink Scarf Series Masterlist! I've pinned it as the top post on my page as well as changed it at the top of all the chapter parts. This will hopefully help end the confusing navigation issues that people were running into. I'm sorry it took so long. I will likely add some fun post links for the playlist and photos from the different eras referenced in different parts for funsies at some point!

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to Elvis Twitter, who stumbled into the Pink Scarf vortex and are now with us in the chokehold of '69 Pink Scarf Era Elvis and are supporting and sharing this lil' fic over there--I see you and appreciate you! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

Elvis rises from the velvet couch. He looks incredible, powerful, his tan face flushed, those electric blue irises blown black with rage and lust, a combination that sends fear and excitement like a bolt of lightning down your spine.

Your chest begins to heave as he undoes his belt. He is staring daggers into you as he does so. Jaw clenching, those pouty lips in a stern line, he unzips his fly, letting his tailored pants fall down over his narrow hips. Even though you know you can stop this at any time, the way he’s looking at you makes you feel like you pushed him too far indeed, and he is not going to go easy on you, and a part of you is glad for it. You look up at him, eyes wide.

“Open that dirty lil’ mouth for me, y/n,” he orders, one hand pumping his dick. Precum already glistens on the tip, and the way he says your name feels like an admonishment. Your legs go weak at the implication of what he is commanding.

You obey, mouth dropping open, and he guides himself in. Your eyes roll back at the salty taste of him as he fills you.

“No, no, baby, you look at me while I punish you. Gotta see that you’re learnin’ your lesson,” Elvis says, grabbing your hair and pulling up, forcing your eyes to open.

His words have more wetness pooling in your core and at this rate, you’re worried you’ll drip on the expensive, lush couch. You look up and Elvis looks positively godlike and gorgeous looming over you, his mouth popping open and eyes wild with desire as you widen your tongue over the bottom of his cock. You start to bring your hands up to fondle him, but he slaps them away, his eyes smoldering.

“No, you take what I give you,” he growls, then without warning, plunges deep, hitting the back of your throat.

Unprepared, you sputter and gag around his hot length, but he holds you still, his hand strong at the back of your hair. He moans and pushes deeper, and you begin to panic a little, tears stinging your eyes.

“Look at me.” You look up. “Next time you want to use this mouth on anyone else, I want you to think of my cock deep in your throat, just like this,” Elvis whispers vehemently. “I want you to remember that mine’s the only cock you should ever even think about choking on.” He pushes a little deeper for emphasis. You moan, the vibrations making him shudder. He pulls out, strings of your saliva clinging to his dick, and you can breathe again. You take in deep breaths because something tells you this is not over and that thought has your thighs quivering with need.

“Is that clear, lil’ girl?” he says, fingers wrapping in your hair and pulling tightly. He looks down at you like he could eat you alive, drunk with power.

“Yes, Daddy,” you concede.

“Gonna be good for me and learn your lesson?” he says, tapping his swollen head on your lips. You open wide and look up at him again through wet lashes, relishing in the way he makes you feel so small yet also like you’re the only other person in the world.

“There’s my good lil’ girl, so hungry for me,” he praises.

His words have you rubbing your thighs together, desperate for friction, as he pushes into you again. You are more prepared this time, but Elvis is still longer than you’re used to, so you gag around him. He groans low and long, those long dark lashes of his fluttering as his eyes drift closed, as though he is composing himself to continue. When he opens his eyes again, the lust in them is so palpable that it sends a searing heat rolling over you, spreading through your body like wildfire. He begins fucking your face unrelentingly, holding your head fast as he plows in so deep that the hairs at his base tickle your lips. He pulls out enough to let you breathe and checks in with you nonverbally before disciplining you again, his length sliding down your throat, filling you in a way you never imagined possible.

“Relax that throat, honey,” Elvis encourages you. “Doin’ so good, baby, taking your punishment,” he murmurs, looking down at you, eyes inebriated with you as he fucks your mouth.

You know you are a mess, tears streaming down your face, covered in spit, with absolutely obscene sounds coming from your mouth as he uses you in a way that no man has before. But you don’t care because all of Elvis Presley’s attention is on you, you are making him feel good, his dick is down your throat, and god, that makes you want to come undone.

His pace quickens and you feel him tense all over, his legs beginning to shudder, and you know he’s close. His lips tremble and curl as he grits his teeth, those bedroom eyes falling shut as his grip in your hair tightens and stills you.

“You’re gonna hold on to it for me, baby…aw, hell!” he cries out, eyes rolling back, and you feel him pulse, his warm salty cum hitting the back of your throat. You obey, trying not to choke as he fills you up, pumping his frustration and possessiveness into you. Holding his cum in your mouth, you wait patiently as he pulls himself out of you.

He catches himself so he doesn’t collapse on top of you, his gorgeous blues blinking slowly as he comes back down to earth, taking you in. You’ve never seen something so sexy in your life as seeing him come apart.

“Open your mouth,” Elvis commands, looking at you intensely and once seeing the pool of his desire there, he nods approvingly. “Swallow,” he orders, tapping your chin closed with his index finger, and you do, making a show of gulping it down. He grabs your chin, those still wounded eyes trapping you in their gaze. “You ain’t never gonna spit me out, are ya, baby?”

You know he’s referring to what you said you did with Jack. He’s still not happy about it, his voice both authoritative and hurt.

“No, Daddy,” you respond. You don’t want anyone but Elvis ever again, if you can possibly help it, though you don’t know how realistic that is. But you don’t want to think about that now.

He grunts and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. The heated way he looks at you lets you know he’s not done with you yet.

“Such a good lil’ girl for Daddy,” he praises, “Takin’ your lessons so well.” He runs his fingers through your hair, then effortlessly pulls you up to standing. You are so close to him, but not touching, reminding you of that moment a mere week ago in the bar the night of the opening of his show. How you had practically rolled up his body, the teasing tension between you thick but much more innocent than it is now. Now, his assertive essence envelops you to the point of dizziness, your physical need for him slick between your thighs and the rest of you needing him on a level you’ve never needed from anyone.

Elvis looks down at you, eyes heavy but alert, still brimming with passion but unwavering. You bring your hand to his chest, but he catches your wrist before you can touch him with a tsk and a shake of his head. You cannot help but pout, your need growing exponentially the more he denies you.

Instead, Elvis sits on the sofa, kicking off his pants, spread wide for you to see his half-hard dick between his lean, toned thighs. Tilting his chin down and looking up at you in that famously cocky and alluring way of his, he demands, “Take of your dress.”

You blink for a moment, then realizing he wants a bit of a show, you turn and unzip slowly, your dress falling into a puddle at your feet. Your panties are already tangled there, from when he took his hand to your backside, and you step out of them, turning towards him in only your bra.

He just looks up at you through those classic rebellious but boyish eyes, reminding you of a time long ago. You can’t help but see the petulant young man in him, the one that parents hated and teenagers fell over, as he lifts his hand to signal that he wants you completely naked for him. You shiver at the sudden thought that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had him like this a long, long time ago. That he could’ve taken you in that booth in the diner or on the lawn at his house in the cover of darkness, his young and less experienced hands petting you, luscious lips soft on yours, making you fall apart for him in more innocent ways.

And out of everything that has occurred in the last hour, that is the thought that really has you feeling hot all over, the one that brings you close to shame and the blatant realization that maybe you two were headed here all along. That these games you’ve been playing didn’t start a week ago, but nearly 14 years ago. That as much as you came to love Jack, it might’ve been Elvis who you truly fell for first.

It nearly knocks the breath from you as you remove the last bit of clothing from your body, exposing yourself completely for this mesmerizing man who has the masses in the palm of his hand, who has you in the palm of his hand. He beckons you to him wordlessly; he doesn’t need words, and you go to him as if hypnotized.

You think you knew subconsciously then what you know consciously now—Elvis Presley cannot be contained. He is beyond any other man in that he belongs to both everyone and no one. Trying to tie him down would be like keeping an eagle from flight. Somehow you sensed that in 1955 and let him go before you could even dream to tie him down. And now, more than anything, you want to fly with him.

He stops you as you walk in between his legs, looking over you with controlled hunger. His fingers dance up your thigh, teasing up to the place you need him the most. You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips as his fingers flit over your mound.

Head tilted to the side, Elvis speaks again, his voice soft but commanding, “Are you gonna be a good lil’ girl for Daddy, or are you gonna be a brat?”

You ponder that for a second, because honestly both options are tantalizing, so you try to figure out what he wants. Does he want you to submit or to fight him?

Finally, you decide. “I’m gonna be a good girl, Daddy.”

That seems to be the right answer. His lip curls up in a half-smile. With that, he runs a long finger ever so gently between your legs, barely touching your folds. You mewl at the sensation, body shuddering, desperate for more.

“Christ, baby, you’re soaking and I ain’t hardly touched you,” he smirks, looking at your wetness on his fingertip.

You wiggle a little, needing friction, something, anything. He stills your hips and shakes his head. “Uh uh, I thought you said you’re gonna be a good girl. Good girls ask nicely,” he grins.

“Please, please touch me, Daddy,” you plead breathlessly.

He nods, lust filling his eyes, as he deliberately runs two fingers back and forth through your sopping folds before circling over your clit. The stimulation after so long has you moaning, knees weak, nearly falling over into him. Your hips start to rock of their own accord, but his hand stops again and you whine.

“No, tell me exactly what you want, baby,” he coos, eyes heavy lidded but alert.

“I…please…Daddy, I want your fingers inside me,” you whisper, begging. You barely recognize the breathy sound coming from your lips.

“Like this?” he asks, his left eyebrow shooting up as he slowly slips two digits into your pussy.

You groan and nod frantically, but once inside, he does not move them. Frustrated, you buck on his hand.

“Back to being a brat, huh?” he says in such a way that you think he’s glad for it. He spanks your ass, causing you to hiss in surprise, squirming and clenching around his fingers. “So goddamn hungry for it, huh? Didn’t you learn your lesson, baby girl?” His voice is husky and dark again, and you want him so badly it hurts. You’ve had enough of his teasing.

“I guess I fucking didn’t, Daddy,” you say belligerently, impatiently, with as much sass as possible. Being good isn’t getting you anywhere. No, you want him over the edge.

In one quick move he throws you face down onto the sofa. “Guess I’m gonna have to wreck this pretty little cunt of yours then, won’t I, baby girl?” Elvis snarls in your ear, his hand at your neck.

It’s exactly what you want. What you need.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you gasp into the couch cushion, the soft velvet creasing into your cheek, and you hear him groan as though helpless to contain it.

With a loud smack, he hits your ass again and before you can recover from the sting, he’s got his dick between your legs. He’s already hard again (the man’s stamina is unmatched), which you are grateful for as he finally plunges into your pussy, filling you completely.

You cry out in pleasure as Elvis begins fucking the hell out of you, seemingly taking out every frustration and insecurity he has on you in the best of ways. He yanks up your hips, drilling into you relentlessly, filling you, hitting every spot of satisfaction along the way with his length. Your eyes roll back as you clutch at the velvet fabric under your palms. The squelching between your thighs is punctuated by his thrusts and grunts and growls.

Elvis, needing more of you, pulls out and flips you over. His eyes are wild, too wild perhaps, but it doesn’t matter. Those soft pliant lips of his crash into yours frantically before dragging down your neck, teeth biting at your collarbone. You wrap around him, nails digging into his back, scratching into his scalp as those lips scorch into your chest, suckling welts into your breasts, claiming you as his.

When he enters you again, it’s as though he’s trying to consume you from the inside out. Like he wants every part of you at the same time. His beautiful face rockets from one emotion to another—possessive anger to boyish insecurity to passionate lust to unbridled fear—you can’t keep up. You are along for the glorious ride.

Your pleasure builds but it’s not just chasing the high that has you flying above the clouds. It’s that in this moment, he’s yours, all yours, and there is no doubt that you are his. You don’t care about Jack or anything else. It’s just him. It’s all Elvis.

The closer you come to unraveling the more frenetic he becomes. It’s as though everything is being stripped away, leaving him vulnerable and untethered, so he clings to you. This larger-than-life man clings to you and all you want is to get lost in him. But he won’t let you.

“I’m…close…” you stutter breathlessly, needing the release he’s promising, needing him to shoot you far up into the inky black of the night sky.

“Y/n,” he pants, “baby, look at me.”

You stare up into his endless blues.

“Are you mine?” The question is not possessive, or part of the game, or even leading. It’s so completely honest and innocent you almost forget what you’re doing, the cliff you are headed for.

You don’t even have to think about it, it just comes out. “Yes, Elvis, I’m yours.”

And then your climax hits hard, so hard you’re almost blinded, but the way he’s intimately staring into your eyes keeps you grounded as he rides you through it. Your body tenses and then it lets go, and you can barely breathe because everything you’ve been holding in for the last week seems to release from you all at once, in an overwhelming flood of sensation and emotion.

Elvis is so intensely focused on you that you feel as though you might drown in him, drown in all these feelings. Everything seems to collide within you all at once and suddenly you’re crying as you come down, sobbing as your body gives way under the pressure.

“Baby? Oh, god, did I hurt you, baby?” he asks desperately, sounding frightened.

You shake your head, your shaking hand coming up to cover your face. “No…no, it’s…not…that,” you choke out between sobs.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Satnin,” he whispers in your ear, rolling off you and pulling you into his arms.

Satnin…

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself truly fall apart without trying to cover it up to make someone else comfortable or to push it down and ignore it. You let it overtake you completely, letting yourself be carried away on the flood of uncertainty, of grief over your failed marriage, your inability to conceive, and the feeling that you’ve wasted so much time on all of it. Your fears about opening your heart up again just to be hurt once more also surface, and with them your love, your love for Elvis which has been growing since the day you met, the love you are finally admitting to yourself, which is absolutely terrifying to you because what if it means that everything else was a lie? Was your life with Jack born from a life you knew you couldn’t have with Elvis? And perhaps you are doomed to love yet another man who cannot give you his whole heart?

And then Elvis goes and looks at you like that and asks you if you are his, and of course you are, of course, of course, is all you can think, over and over. But you can’t allow yourself to get lost in another man, especially not this man, but you feel like you have no control. You are being swept away by Elvis, regardless of logic.

You don’t know how long you weep for, wrapped in Elvis’ arms as he pets you and murmurs in your ear, “Satnin, breathe. Breathe, baby.”

You feel like the world is collapsing in on itself, but you anchor yourself to the sound of his voice, that crooning, distinctly Elvis voice, and the feel of his arms around you and you breathe. In and out. In and out.

“That’s it, mama,” he coos, still holding you tightly. “You just get it all out. I’m here.”

He’s here.

That nearly makes you weep all over again, but you continue to breathe through it, through your panic and your doubt until you begin to relax.

Finally, you are able to look at him again, your body feeling strangely light and floaty. Elvis looks at you with a mixture of concern, fear, and protectiveness, trying to comprehend what is happening, but waiting to take your lead rather than asking himself.

“I…I’m sorry. That was…overwhelming,” you breathe out, wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?” he asks quietly, brow furrowed.

“No, it wasn’t that, that part felt good…it was more like the physical release somehow broke through a dam inside me and sent this flood of emotion through me,” you try to explain, trying to make sense and reassure him at the same time.

He nods and waits for you to continue.

“I…I’m going through some stuff, baby,” you stutter out, “and I’m rethinking a lot of my life and what’s led up to this, us. My marriage is in shambles, and I feel caught up in this whirlpool of emotions that I don’t know how to piece through.” Your voice wavers and you clutch at him, afraid to spin out again. You can’t tell him more than that, not yet, even though you know he is wondering.

Elvis smooths your hair, resting his warm palm against your cheek, his rings cool against the burning of your skin. You sense that he has things he wants to say, you can practically see his thoughts churning, but he holds them back, not wanting to overwhelm you with them. And for that you are grateful.

“Will you come with me?” he finally says, getting up, putting on a robe, and holding out his hand for you. Confused, you take his hand, glad for it, as you are a little dizzy and unsteady on your feet. He holds out another robe for you, wrapping it around you gently, and then pulls you with him.

He opens a door you’ve never seen, one that blended so seamlessly into the wall, you didn’t know it was even there. He takes you up the dark staircase, your thoughts now running with curiosity, and then he opens another door at the top. It reveals a rooftop patio, clad with lounging chairs and all.

You gasp at the sight of the Las Vegas skyline twinkling with neon lights against the darkness of the desert night sky. You are so far up, you feel like you could touch the moon, and it makes you feel more lightheaded than you already are. You clutch at Elvis’ hand, and sensing your awe, he brings you to one of the lounge chairs and encourages you to lie back. He pulls another right up against yours and lies next to you.

There is silence for a moment as you both take in the night sky. The light pollution makes it hard to see all the stars, but some are still there, twinkling in the infinite blackness.

“Keep your eyes on the moon, y/n,” he says quietly. “Do you remember?”

And suddenly, you do.

Memphis 1956

It’s a hot and sultry early July night, and you are glad for the new swimming pool here at Elvis’ house on Audubon Drive. Your swimsuit sticks damply to your skin, despite having been out of the pool for a while, causing you to practically peel yourself off the lawn chair you’ve been sitting in. You managed to finish yet another glass of sweet tea as you watch Elvis, Jack, and Elvis’ relations mess around in the pool, but as twilight turns into night, you feel like you need a moment away from the roughhousing of the boys and the tittering of the girls.

You grab your towel and find a quiet spot on the lawn, enough away from the fray that you can breathe, but not in view of the fans camped out in front of Elvis’ house, wishing and begging for a glimpse of their new idol.

It’s mind boggling how quickly he’s gone from hometown celebrity to near superstardom in a year. This is his first real stay at the new home he was able to buy for his parents in this upper crest Memphis neighborhood—a far cry from the projects he grew up in. You are so happy for him, but he has been going nearly nonstop since the turn of the year. In fact, this is his first vacation from the insanity of touring and television appearances and recording sessions since everything blew up for him.

As you lay down on the towel, head looking up to the stars, you think of just how much has changed in the last year. God, a year ago, you thought you’d be engaged to Ted. That thought makes you scrunch up your nose. And now, well, now there was Jack, who was quickly becoming much more than just a friend. And, of course there was Elvis, your handsome friend-turned-celebrity, playing sold out shows that ended in riots with the girls tearing off his clothes and causing an uproar amongst parents everywhere with his jiggling on national television. He was even starting his movie career out in Hollywood next month.

It was all rather overwhelming. It was a wonder he hadn’t forgotten you all back home, but while he had definitely changed in some ways, fame had not changed his unwavering love for his family or his friends.

Suddenly, water rains down on you from above as a tall and very wet-from-the-pool Elvis looms over you, bending down and shaking his wet hair over your face to get your attention.

“Elvis!” you squeal, throwing your hands up to protect your face, “Ew! Stop!”

He laughs that boisterous laugh of his, pleased with himself. “What ya doin’ all the way over here by your lonesome, doll?” he asks, plopping his wet body next to you on your towel. He’s close enough that the cool wet of his arm brushes up against yours as he leans on his side and looks down at you, those eyes of his sparking in the dark. “Ain’t you havin’ fun?” he asks with concern and honesty, with another shake of his head.

You laugh and wipe the droplets off your face, knowing that making a deal of it will just spurn him on and likely get you thrown in the pool. “Yes, I’m having fun. I just needed a moment away from the fray,” you say, looking up at him.

Elvis eyes wander over you curiously, quietly, and suddenly you feel very exposed in your two-piece bathing suit, lying here alone in the dark with this beautiful yet goofy young man hovering so close. Those eyes of his are so soulful sometimes, so watchful, like he’s taking in every little thing around him, and right now that is you. A warm flush comes over you and you are glad for the darkness.

You want to speak to break the silence, but you can’t think of anything to say, your mouth suddenly full of cotton. While you and Jack have started dating and you are quickly becoming committed to that, you feel very aware of why so many young women are literally throwing themselves at Elvis, why he seems to have a girlfriend in every county from here to Texas. Your heart flutters. You want to shake the thought and the feeling away, but as his too-long wet hair falls over his forehead and his pretty baby face looks down at you, you feel nearly entranced.

Finally, he seems to have gotten whatever he was looking for by staring at you and flings himself on his back with a loud sigh. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding and scold yourself for thinking about Elvis in any more than a friendly manner. He is still close to you though, the side of his damp body nearly pressed against yours, and for a moment, you feel a shiver of gooseflesh rise on your skin in response.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, almost startling you, “the needin’ to ‘get away from the fray’ thing. I feel like I’ve been in the fray so constantly now that I’ve forgotten what bein’ out of it feels like.”

You are both quiet for a moment, just staring up at the stars. It’s not uncomfortable, the silence, but to you, it feels charged somehow. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Regardless, your heart still flutters in your chest.

“What a beautiful night,” he breathes out next to you.

“Yes, it is,” you say quietly, keeping your eyes to the stars.

“Keep your eyes on the moon, y/n,” he says, almost dreamily.

You look over at him, confused.

“Seriously, baby, keep your eyes on the moon, and you’ll see a glowing blue ring appear,” Elvis urges you.

“Okay,” you say incredulously, turning your head back to the sky. Silently, you both stare at the glowing orb hovering above you for what seems like minutes. You wonder if he’s lost his mind a little, or if he’s playing one of his tricks, but then you see it—a bright blue ring, pulsing with the beat of your heart. You gasp.

“Do ya see it? Now, let yourself totally relax, and just focus on the space between the moon and the stars,” he says, his voice almost hypnotizing. “Don’t think about anythin’, just let yourself float. If you can relax enough, you can go right up there with them.”

So you do. You lie there and let yourself float up between the moon and the stars. You feel increasingly strange but also free and unchained from the constant thoughts that usually race through your mind at any one moment. You are enthralled by the night sky, flying high.

“How long have you been doing this?” you whisper in the darkness.

“Since I was a little boy,” Elvis whispers back, eyes still on the moon.

You look over at him, his face full of an innocent wonder. Then, he turns his face to yours, so close in the darkness that you think you can feel his warm breath on your face. “Do you believe me, y/n?”

You nod. With Elvis, anything seems possible.

“I promise you, y/n, I’m serious. People think you’re crazy if you talk about things they don’t understand,” he says, offendedly, as though he has very real wounds from that happening before.

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Elvis. I see it. I feel it,” you say, in wonder. In wonder not just at the night sky and your ability to float to the moon, but at the boy lying next to you, the one who is so much deeper than he appears.

He nods, giving you a vulnerable yet piercing look that shakes you. Then his cool hand grabs yours, as if anchoring the two of you together as you both turn back to float into the night sky.

“I remember,” you whisper, answering his question, looking into up into the same sky as before. It is years older and from a different vantage point but nearly unchanged in its ancient, endless beauty.

“Just relax and float, Satnin. Just you and me and the moon and the stars,” he whispers. Then he winds his fingers through yours, anchoring you together and you breathe. You try to let go of it all and just be, knowing that Elvis won’t let you float aimlessly away, lost in the sky forever.

Just you and me and the moon and the stars.

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211 @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy @amiets2 @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch @tattywood

@sassanoe @re3kin @thella @suspiciousmidge

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

392 notes · View notes

sophiamcdougall · 8 months

Text

So I just posted about how funny and unexpected it is that instead of being terrorised by Hellhound!Dracula the people of Whitby just want to cuddle him and call him a good boy, and I noted that even though it's hilarious (how fucking embarrassed would you be if you were Dracula? They called the fucking RSPCA. Absolutely WWDITS scenes.) it also supports the motif of people always caring more than Dracula expects, something that will ultimately undo him. And you know another thing I had never noticed until Re:Dracula?

Despite Alasdair Stuart's superb performance ... the Captain of the Demeter isn't English. (Or Protestant.) His log has been translated by "a clerk of the Russian consul" so the Correspondent can publish it for an English audience. When he mentions that the crew, unlike the Mate, are Russian, he's possibly identifying them as compatriots, at least people with whom he shares a language. Of course, why would the captain of a "Russian schooner from Varna" be English? But this feels like something that should be incorporated more into critical readings of Dracula. Nothing can take away the the racism/xenophobia in the treatment of the Rom and some of the other locals. But the Captain's nationality ought to add least add nuance to the interpretation of Dracula as a tale of good, valiant WASPs standing up to sinister, ~Eastern~ ~forces. After Jonathan, and before Lucy, the next character to tell their own story of victimisation is a Russian-speaker who presumably hails from further east than Dracula does. This complicates the "Anglos are rational (but wrong about vampires)/ Eastern Europeans are emotional and superstitious (but correct about vampires)" dichotomy. Throughout his short narrative, the Captain behaves very much like Jonathan in similar circumstances. Interestingly, both are forced or tricked into "complicity" with Dracula's arrival in England, but in both cases the narrative makes it obvious that it is not their fault. Like Jonathan with the locals on the way to Castle Dracula, the Captain is warned early on by one of the men that something supernatural is going on, and dismisses it as 'superstitious fear'. In fact, he takes much longer to internalise that he's being preyed on by something unearthly than Jonathan does (not his fault -- he doesn't get the up-close-and-personal 'no reflection' encounter with Dracula that Jonathan gets on Day 2). Nevertheless, he investigates as best he can, and then, when he fully realises he's at Dracula's mercy he refuses to surrender. He does the only thing he can to at least deny Dracula his final prize and die "as a man". Those aren't, then, being treated by the text as British reactions. They're human reactions -- and I think, specifically modern human reactions. Jonathan, comes from a world of advancing technology, the Captain from a globalised world of international trade. Their modernity does not prepare them for the ancient evil that Dracula represents. But modernity (train schedules, shorthand, phonographs records) will eventually, after heavy losses, allow the Crew of Light to fight back.

And, foreshadowing what will happen with Lucy, even though the Captain couldn't defeat Dracula, even though he dies, the narrative treats his struggle as noble and important. It matters that the suitors and Van Helsing fought so hard to save Lucy. It matters that the Captain died at his post, still human and defiant. And -- the people of Whitby, (who Stoker really must have decided were predominately total sweethearts) take a break from searching for the spectral hellhound so they can pet it and give it treats to declare him a hero. Is anyone putting him in the frame for Dracula's crimes? (Another way his abuse parallels Jonathan's). Fuck you! The people of Whitby have his back. The first non-American foreigner to be encountered on English shores by English characters isn't Dracula. And even in death, he is welcomed and cared for and defended, and this is right.

#re: dracula #Dracula

25 notes · View notes

under-lore · 2 years

Text

Flowey’s descent into madness needs more attention

I really feel like the period of Flowey’s transition, the one that came after his first suicide but before the events of the game, has not had the attention of the fandom as it much as it deserved.

There is so much potential here, Flowey trying to make friend with everyone after learning of his power but slowly realising that everything eventually becomes predictable, that its always the same, until eventually those same words that he hears every single time lose all meaning to him. They are just “lines of dialogue”.

He stops caring about hurting people’s feelings since they’ll just forget anyways. Being friends with people is always the same, but seeing them sad, seeing them hurt, brought to the edge of what their emotions can handle, isn’t it so much more interesting ? So much more entertaining ?

It doesn’t matter since he doesn’t about care about them and can simply just undo it if he so desires, so he might as well just try to see what happens if he insults them, if he destroys relationships, if he can get people to turn bad, or eventually, if he kills them. At first just because he’s mordbidly curious, but eventually because its the only thing that he has left in his life as the human souls are out of reach, the determination to keep living and see everything this world has to offer. “Kill or be killed” becomes his motto. Its both the lesson that he believes he ‘learned’ from his first death as Asriel and the only thing that still entertains him at this point as Flowey.

But even then, eventually, it becomes tiring. Even seeing people beg for their lives becomes boring, he’s seen it all before. He starts trying more and more complex ideas and schemes to try and get new reactions out of people instead of the same boring ones, but eventually he understands that after so many times, he literally knows everyone’s personalities by heart to the point where he can guess what they’ll do before they even do it as they more or less do the same things every time and he’s experienced that thousands of times already.

At this point, its like if everyone else in the underground was just a robot. Like they were all scripted. If Flowey does this, then they will do that and say this. Every time, without fault. They don’t even feel like living beings anymore. They are just like toys, toys that get boring, and eventually, that he gets sick of playing with. Every single one of them.

He had seen it all, there was nothing new left for him in this world.

He ends up as a sort of deity trapped in his own world and unable to escape. There are only a handful of things he still wishes to do, but those things happen to be the ones he can never do, no matter how many times he RESETS, such as getting the human souls or seeing Chara again. Eventually, he tries the only thing he had never tried : doing literally nothing at all (except talking to Papyrus a little bit, i guess). He just waits... Until eventually Frisk falls.

Overall, i just wish there was more fan content about Flowey’s descent into insanity. There are a few good comics and fanfictions about it but i’ve ran out of them a long time ago. I love Flowey, i wish this part of the character was explored a bit more by the fans.

#flowey #undertale #flowey undertale #flowey the flower #ut #ut dr #rant

180 notes · View notes

meta-squash · 4 days

Text

I really wish there had been one more episode between Adrift and Fragments in series 2.

I know Adrift isn't really a favorite episode but it leaves some huge unanswered question and does some really interesting character advancement for Gwen. But because Fragments comes next, nothing gets done with any of that.

One of the unanswered questions is: Do Owen and Tosh know about Flat Holm? I think it's easily plausible both ways.

If they know about it, they also are probably very aware of the limitations of such a facility and also the potential consequences (emotional and security-wise) of letting civilians or family members know about it. I wouldn't be surprised if they were told that Flat Holm was need-to-know. (I wouldn't put it past Jack to tell them separately, so they both think no one else knows.) In any case, if they know about Flat Holm, I think by this time in series 2 they would also be able to gauge what Gwen's reaction would be and how she would try and push the limits of this project, when it's already pretty much as good as it can get, considering the nature of, well, everything.

On the other hand, it makes sense that Ianto knows about Flat Holm if he's doing secretarial duties like expenses and supply runs and things like that, and that it was hidden from everyone else.

And then, if they didn't know about it before, were they told about Flat Holm after? Did Gwen tell them? Or Jack? Or Ianto? I imagine they would react in a more reasonable way than Gwen. Perhaps they'd offer some suggestions for changes but I don't think they'd push much.

The other question is, what's Ianto's motive? And what was Jack's response? We know Ianto pointed Gwen to Flat Holm and we know Jack figures it out, but we don't see them talk about it after. Did Ianto give her clues because he knew she wouldn't stop pushing? Did he give her clues because he thought her knowledge of the facility would be helpful? Was he trying to teach her the exact lesson that she learns in the end? How did Jack react when he got back? What was the conversation between them? It's the first time since Lisa that Ianto deliberately defied Jack and went behind his back about something. That's gotta be a pretty intense blow to their relationship and trust, at least in that it will bring up old wounds.

And the entire episode like I said is some interesting character advancement for Gwen. This is the first time her pushing truly and spectacularly blows up in her face in a way that cannot be fixed at all. For the most part every time she fucks up or goes to far either Jack/the team are able to save the day, or she fumbles it back. This time, the damage is done on a level that she can't undo, and she learns that sometimes you can't do more, that it's better not to know things, that sometimes her actions of "caring" do more harm than good, and learns that there's a lot more to Jack and Ianto and the whole business of running Torchwood than she thought.

I just wish there was one more "regular" episode in between Adrift and Fragments, where we get to see how those realizations might have altered how Gwen saw or functioned in the job, and how Jack and Ianto's relationship might have been affected, and stuff like that.

I mean, I know that's what fanfiction is for, of course, but I'd be so interested to know what the actual showrunners would have done with it. Mainly because the trajectory all the characters were going in in the latter half of series 2 was actually pretty interesting, and then it just screeches to a halt.

#squash rambles #torchwood meta #torchwood

5 notes · View notes

yuukei-yikes · 10 months

Note

hie I've just been sitting here thinking about harutaka fighting I know the whole "I knew i was gonna die and didn't tell you" is prime material for them to fight But I like to think about like Long term how they deal with little inevitable conflicts Bc those are gonna happen when you wanna spend your life by someone's side I feel like Haruka's reaction is most often just To immediately apologize He wants to fix things He doesn't want anyone to be upset So he slaps a bandaid over it! Takane however Needs to experience her feelings even if they suck She needs to get mad She needs to get sad (and try to cover up that sadness with angry outburts) I think there's times Haruka apologizes to try and soothe a conflict and she gets upset because it's really not his fault and she wishes he'd get mad instead! I think eventually they kinda learn Takane needs her moment to run through her feelings and just because she's crying screaming punching a pillow doesn't mean it's personal And Haruka needs to learn that sometimes it's okay if things feel bad for a bit, it's better to talk things through than to bury them under panicked pacification. A tense afternoon isn't going to undo their pile of happy memories. Honestly I wanna see Haruka try to get mad about something. Restaurant got his order wrong or something. And Takane's just there like yeah!! Tell them!!! And he immediately deflates when he has their attention (also if this characterization is a little off I apologize!! I hadn't touched kagepro in a while and have just recently gotten sucked back into the hyperfixation but haven't freshly gone through all the material yet. I'm slowly making my way through it again I just really enjoy your blog asjshffj)

YEAH EXACTLY U GET IT SO WELL especially with takane wishing haruka would get mad. they run through emotions differently, takane gets mad/explodes because she cares about something so much, so haruka not matching her energy when she gets like that makes her feel like he doesn't care.

i think that could be a good way for them to learn how things work, like if takane told him its like you dont even care and haruka had the chance to say OF COURSE he cares. how could he not???!!!

so when she's blowing up about something admittedly silly and haruka isnt telling her Hey that's silly and instead he's like ok❤️sorry❤️dont be mad❤️ that makes her madder. but haruka is also capable of getting angry yknow (NOVEL 6 KANO MOMENT) (Still so funny kano is the 1 character that managed to make haruka angry) but i have a hard time seeing him angry At takane. maybe he could call her immature or something lol....

i think he could ask her to stop being such a tease??? haruka's too spineless to ask her to stop teasing him (over the dimension lost days I moment) but by post str i dont think this would be a problem. maybe he could manage to ask and takane would be like AWWWW IM JUST GOOFING cuz from his pov in lost days it REALLY seemed like haruka didnt realise takane was fucking with him. personally i didnt notice in my first read. once i read it again i noticed takane is described to have a mischievous smile and stuff and that just changed the whole context. it was haruka moaning and crying abt having an art block and takane being like girl ur being pathetic and she was right🙏

i mostly have a hard time imagining What theyd fight about. i think they could have arguments but it'd have to be something punctual for that to take place. i dont think couples just Have to argue to work out at all. that bit u said abt "thats gonna happen when u wanna spend ur life with someone" LIKE yeah there are disagreements and all but nothing that could cause An Argument of that nature yknow.

that's why haruka not telling takane abt his condition is like the best potential for it, otherwise more domestic stuff is like. haruka wanting the lights on while playing a horror game and takane wanting them off. thats like the most heated dispute they can have bc theyre both very serious about their stances💔(haruka is scared. takane wants the full horror game experience🙄)

#ask tag #headcanons #harutaka

6 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 2 years

Note

Heeeeeello~

I’ve been enjoying your blog for the last three or so weeks I’ve had Tumblr and I wanna ask how in the world you write all these different characters interacting? I struggle to characterize the three barely fleshed out OC’s I have who don’t even really interact with anything. All the different Links have different interpretations yeah, but there’s like, already this solid foundation from their games and the LU comic so it’s intimidating trying to envision dialogue or basically anything

To be quite honest, I think it's because of my comic background?

When I was a kid, my siblings and I did this thing called Comic Club, which I started because I learned what an ask blog was but hadn't the ability to make one.

Long of the short of it, every week, we would amass questions for each others' oc's and then have to answer the ones for ours with a comic. As the leader of the club, I was under the pressure of creating the cool comics and thus needing them to be memorable. I did that by making characters interact with each other.

By doing it in comic form, i gad to split my focus between what they were saying and what they were doing at the same time, so nowadays, provided I've been exposed to comics again, I can just think of writing like a comic. Imagine every scene in panels and write what you see and what the characters say.

As for the interacts thing: I tun into other people's emotions all day long. I try and stay aware of how actions and words effect the emotions of other people, and how emotions impact how that person acts and speaks in response. It's a messy thing, but it's come from years of reading and people-watching.

If you think of interactions as a cycle of give and take of emotional responses, it can help you figure them out better! Additionally, I've found that using a character's POV helps convey their thoughts and smooth interactions better. For instance, if I said someone reacted violently to something when it was a bit out of character for them to show much emotion, I could confuse my audience. If I use a character POV though, I can make that character provide reasoning behind the action.

"Warriors may be their kind and responsible brother, but even he has his limits. Really, it was the poor fool's own fault for sneaking up on the captain, because no amount of charm and kind character can undo years of trauma from betrayal and backstabbing."

Like, Warriors is hardly a violent person, so it may confuse my readers if he acts violently to a seemingly innocent person. if I have the POV state that it's because warriors has betrayal trauma and reacts violently to being snuck up on, not because he is violent but because it's a trauma response/learned reaction, then it makes more sense.

This leads to the fact that when I try to figure out actions, I have to consider histories and general behavior patterns:

Warriors has trauma from the betrayal of his men, it's natural he has trust issues, right? So, him being less trusting of the chain then he lets on would be in character for him, if we say that he hides everything behind his charm and pretty smiles and thus we rarely see his suspicious side.

By thinking about their history, we can predict their responses and puzzle out why those responses would happen. then we can switch over to whom they are interacting with and see what their personality+background would result in them doing as a response.

I have no clue how understandable this is, but I hope it helps? I have so much to say about writing, so I'm sorry if I got carried away!

#asks and answers

10 notes · View notes

ravixen · 2 years

Note

hello! i'd like to request 5, 10, and 32 for the fic writer ask game please!

// fic writer ask game

hey, anon, thanks for sending this in!!

5 - What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

one big fanfic pet peeve i have is when things aren't broken up into paragraphs lol i will close out asap. i know i keep my reactions in one big paragraph (trust me, i deliberated over the decision for a while), but i offset it by having italics to differentiate the speaker. if it's a huge document that's allllll in one paragraph, though, i cannot go on.

another big pet peeve is when people in fics are constantly yelling haha another one where i'll leave the page.

i do have minor pet peeves like spelling errors, punctuation errors, etc. but i overlook those if the story is interesting enough.

10 - What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

uhh, it really depends on my mood and the phase i'm in!! right now, i'm in an ambiguous phase where i'm not reading fic, but right before this, i read through the entirety of the spy x family tag on ao3. before that, i was super into percy/annabath from percy jackson. i don't have favorites; when i have phases, though, i go all in. i don't know the meaning of moderation :^)

32 - Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

ok, i really can't choose my top three ever, and at the moment, i'm pretty unsatisfied with my writing (no zingers), so i'll choose three recent ones!

Not My Type CH 9:

"No, you're genetically wired to compete with me. You're my counterpart," she says. [...] "You're supposed to be my undoing, Brick."

Pick Me Up (Don't Be Late):

But that's what Yiyang is so scared of―if it's easy to make the jump from platonic to romantic, it's just as easy to make the jump from friends to strangers, so he'll stay here in this emotional limbo if it means that she'll stay the center of his universe.

behind doors:

“And miss the opportunity to teach you a lesson? You may have a Ph.D, but you can still get schooled, Professor Jihoon.”

#katalk #anonymous.reply

2 notes · View notes

batshaped · 3 years

Photo

in light of the season 4 announcement today, it seems like a good time to repost this comic i made shortly after watching Aggretsuko season 3.

here’s what i said about it at the time:

Time again for my annual Aggretsuko feelings dump...this time in comic form!! Last weekend I devoured season 3 at a friend's house and promptly came home to draw this in a blaze of passion. I love to watch this show, but I always have frustrations.

And I hope it's clear that this is criticism of a show I like and am invested in! I wouldn't have taken the time or effort to make a comic about it otherwise. These are just *my* feelings; I'd love to hear yours, whether you or not you agree with me.

Ultimately, the fact that this show always makes me think so much about why I feel the way I feel about the story, and inspires so much earnest engagement in its audience is a testament to how compelling it is... but I think I need more from it.

originally posted to twitter in September 2020.

#comic #comics #art #aggretsuko #retsuko #haida #manaka #media analysis #i haven't watched the season since then #it's been over a year #so i wonder if i would feel differently now.#but i don't really think so #i have the same issues with the story season to season #the show is very averse to commitment #a show that returns to status quo is fine! it works for a lot of shows #but aggretsuko seems to want to have it both ways #trying to make big statements and introduce huge life-changing plot elements #but then undoing the characters' emotional reactions to those things #so everything can return to status quo #there's a lot of good discussion in the replies under the original twitter post i linked fwiw #people brought up good points about cultural differences in storytelling (japan vs USA)#sanrio's influence (in the end aren't all sanrio characters just mascots for an unchanging character concept)#and potential symbolic reasons for the stagnation (maybe it represents women in society attempting to rise up and be more only to be pushed #back down)#so it's not that my opinion is the correct reading of the show #but i do hold my opinion strongly #anyway i am obviously going to watch season 4 #and maybe make another way too involved comic about it LOL #september 2020 art #09042020

3K notes · View notes

castielcommunism · 2 years

Note

yeah i rly don’t think ppl give dean enough credit with the mary of it all in s12. the whole “oh this 40 year old man expects his mommy to make soup for him” type of take is boring like ok putting aside that maternal resurrection is an insane situation that would likely destroy one’s psyche, dean is also trying to unlearn so much…like yes the situation IS both funny and depressing, both for dean and mary (and sam to a lesser extent). but like you, i think deans reactions are a testament to the good parts of him, not the bad!

yeah like the expectations Dean puts on his mother ARE unreasonable don’t get me wrong but they’re deeply sympathetic. Like this is a parent who he has exclusively good memories of and has heard only good things about. She also doesn’t know Dean at all, which I think excites him. John was constantly disappointed in him and withheld his approval, and I think on some level Dean figured that if he could just be My Mom’s Oldest Son then he would finally have a parent who would properly love him and take care of him the way he needs. In some ways Dean is emotionally still a four year old because that was the point at which he lost his childhood and was treated like a resource by his father. I think Dean does want Mary to make him food and tell him everything will be okay and tuck him into bed. Not literally, but like emotionally those are the things he wants from her because they’re things he’s never had.

And in 12x22 when he watches her say that to his four year old self he realises he doesn’t actually want that because it’s a lie. They can’t reverse time or undo the damage in their family’s history, but they can start fresh and try again (which is exactly what he says to her).

And Sam wants those things to! Like he absolutely wants A Mom. But he doesn’t put all of his emotional expectations on Mary or like bare his soul to her immediately the way Dean does. Dean places all of his emotional baggage at her feet and demands she deal with it, so when she decides to leave he’s not only completely devastated by it, it also retraumatises him (my mom is leaving again) and confirms all his worst fears (once my parents know who I am they hate me). Which is, again, unreasonable and unfair to Mary, but it’s understandable. Sam doesn’t do any of that. He’s sad his mother is leaving but like he’s not going “oh my god my mom hates me and wants to leave me, specifically, because my lot in life is to be abandoned by people I love when I let them down” the way Dean does. Sam definitely feels a lot of resentment and anger towards Mary for making the demon deal, for not preparing him or their family for it, for dying and destroying their lives, but she never really fell from this high mantle for him. She’s just an utter and complete stranger that their father was obsessed with.

And obviously like Mary is not blameless in this. She did make a deal, and her actions did destroy her family. She had children with John and she does have a responsibility to them, even if they’re suddenly these grown adult men she doesn’t know. But the tragedy of it is that none of them are really at fault for what happened, or for Mary coming back, they just have to deal with these circumstances the best they can.

So yeah back to the original point of this ask, a very compelling part of s12 for me is watching Dean try really hard at making his relationship with Mary work. And like he’s kinda bad at it! He fucks up and they argue and he gets his feelings hurt but he still wants to try. We don’t really see him do that in the show with the other relationships he has, and it infuses a lot of much needed sympathy to his behaviour and just makes him overall a much more interesting character. I wish the other relationships he had with Sam and Cas had similar stakes, but this is supernatural etc etc.

#dean.txt #mary.txt #sam.txt #asks #meta #mary & dean #season 12

147 notes · View notes

princeescaluswords · 1 year

Note

I just saw the teen wolf movie and I hated everything about it.What pissed me the most was this movie killing off Scott's character development and he's still in love with Allison.I just was like he didn't move on,dammit.Also I hate how Derek just becomes a true alpha before he dies,I was like there is one every one hundred years and Derek just gets it,I call bullshit.

Also the fics already bashing Scott and saying he didn't deserve being a Alpha,it's just so fucking sad that these people will never happy until Stiles becomes the chosen one of magic and Derek become the true alpha.I hate the majority of the teen wolf fandom and it's really shitty that Tyler Posen himself cannot be celebrated by the fans,of his own show.

I enjoyed the movie for a great many reasons, even though I didn't get everything I wanted from it. I was prepared for that, because I know that Jeff Davis is a very focused storyteller. He doesn't spend time on things that don't interest him, aside from the inconsequential bits of red meat he throws to fans to keep them around.

It's completely fine that you didn't like the movie -- it was never going to please everyone -- but I have to disagree with you. I don't think that Scott still being in love with Allison is undoing Scott's character development. He never stopped loving Allison. We saw that in throughout Season 3, 4, 5, and 6. His reaction to her name breaking a third of the Dead Pool code in I.E.D. (4x05). His inscription during Senior Scribe in Creatures of the Night (5x01). His memories in Apotheosis (5x20). His ability to guess Argent's password in Raw Talent (6x12). He never lost that emotional connection to her.

But he did move on. He truly loves Kira. He develops feelings for Malia (but they didn't seem to have gone anywhere). Yet, he couldn't be with Allison because at first she didn't want to be with him and then she was dead. He couldn't be with Kira because she had to go learn from the Skin-walkers. His character development was the ability to accept that he couldn't always get what he wanted, and that it was mature to allow himself to want other things instead. (This was echoed by Stiles, who admitted in Memory Lost (6x01) that he had a crush on Lydia even though he was in a loving relationship with Malia.)

I don't think many people will like this next part, but I think that Teen Wolf rejects the concept (something I wish modern United States culture would mimic) that in order for love to be 'true', it must be possessive and exclusive. It must be powerful to the point of destiny, e.g. soulmates, the red string of fate, etc. To me, there is no such thing as emotional infidelity. Emotions are too broad and too deep to be focused on a sole individual in a healthy manner. Infidelity is real but it's behavior not simply a feeling, and we never see Scott being unfaithful, not to Kira, not to Malia, and not to Stiles. (Think about how many people in the fandom act as if Scott developing emotions for Allison is 'betraying' Stiles.)

I have an example which I hesitate to bring this up, because Rowling and her works have fallen into extreme disfavor, but one of the things I hated about both her books and the movies derived from them is the celebration, magnified by fandom, of Severus Snape's devotion to Lily Potter's memory. "Always." It's supposed to be a redeeming aspect of his character, but it seems eminently destructive in my opinion. He spent 18 years not only holding on to his love for a woman he couldn't have in any way but also closing himself off from everything else. He didn't move on. In fact, he spent seven of those years furious with a child yet refusing to avoid him because the boy reminded him of his mother. That's not healthy.

Scott's ability to love other people while still having an emotional connection to Allison is far more mature and praiseworthy. I think that, especially in terms of romance, Scott's character development definitely remained intact.

As for Derek's assumption of True Alpha status in his final moments, I wasn't surprised yet I also wasn't disappointed. Remember, being a True Alpha isn't just about sacrifice. It's about "virtue, strength of character, and willpower." Derek didn't simply sacrifice himself for his son because he had no other choice. There were other options. Derek recognized that this option -- burning the nogitsune on the Nemeton with hellfire -- had to happen, because a creature as powerful as it was would just keep coming back. A threat against his family that could last for generations. He wanted his pack, his alpha, and his son to be free of it forever, to be able to live without looking over their shoulders. That's why he made sure Scott took responsibility for Eli. Think about it. The Hale Fire ruined his life as his family burned, but now he burned to preserve his new family. That acceptance, that decision is more than just a sacrifice; it's an act of will. I don't have any problem with that at all, especially since he learned how to do it from Scott (and it's not a competition anyway).

As for the fandom, you knew these racist assholes were going to be that way. They already had an event planned for fix-it stories a week before the movie premiered. You just have to remember it was never about the story -- it was about centering white characters and defending their privilege by concealing it behind an overindulgence in misery porn. As I said above, the Hale Fire was 20 YEARS AGO during the movie, but there's a reason they don't want Derek (or any character) to have moved on from it, as Scott had moved on from the death of Allison. To them, constantly defining the Hales by what was done to them is a feature, not a bug.

#teen wolf movie spoilers #teen wolf the movie spoilers #scott mccall #derek hale #allison argent #scott mccall defense squad

41 notes · View notes

translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 32

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 32 - This Venerable One is Coaxing You, It's Alright

Through the heavy lotus leaves, Mo Ran reacted like he had been struck by lightning. He was frozen in shock, all the conflicting feelings in his heart going wild, his expression unable to hide his emotions.

Shock, anger, bitter jealousy, irritation; all burst in him like fireworks. He moved his lips but was so angry, he couldn't even get a word out. He didn't even know what he was angry about. There was only one thought going through his head --

This Venerable One has slept with this guy. You think you're worthy enough to touch him?

Chu Wanning, you arrogant, egotistical, lewd slut! You, I can't believe you . . .

He didn't react at all. In this life, Chu Wanning didn't have the slightest passion or desire to engage with him. In an instant, something in his mind snapped.

All in all, it had been more than ten years, a lifetime, from birth until death.

When he was in his right mind, he was able to play it off easily, pretending to be calm.

But under the circumstances, his thoughts were chaotic and the truth was revealed. He still subconsciously believed that Chu Wanning belonged to him. Even now, he realized that he could even remember the taste of Chu Wanning's lips when they kissed . . . not to mention their desire-fueled, lustful interaction and passionate sex.

It was something that he didn't dare think about after he was reborn.

Until he saw Chu Wanning's naked back, saw that familiar figure, - broad shoulders and long legs, tight muscles, thin and powerful waist - immersed in the clear water.

These things that he had deliberately avoided, the lingering feeling he tried to forget, burst through his mind and swept away any resolve.

Mo Ran's mind went blank.

. . . This body made him react.

And it was a strong reaction that couldn't be contained at all. Just looking at it, a fire burned in his belly.

When he came back to his senses, he angrily shouted: "Chu Wanning!"

Chu Wanning actually ignored him.

The two people on either side of him held his shoulders. Steam rose from the lotus pond making it hard to discern the specific identity of the two people. But they are very close together, the distance between them dubiously close.

Mo Ran cursed. He plopped into the lotus pond and waded towards Chu Wanning—when he got closer, he realized —

I-It was actually two mecha men made of metal and redwood!

Even worse, they seemed to be taking advantage of the spiritual energy of the lotus pond water, channelling that energy into Chu Waning. Mo Ran, foolishly jumping into the water, had completely broken the spiritual energy flow . . .

He didn't know what kind of array Chu Wanning was using. He was unconscious, supported by the golden light coming from the metal palms of the two mechs. Those rays kept surging upward and converged on the wound on his shoulder, clearly healing it.

Mo Ran's intrusion caused the golden light to quickly dissipate. What was even more unexpected was that the array actually started to undo!

As the golden light dissipated, Chu Wanning's wounds began to rapidly spread. He frowned, stifling a grunt, and coughed out a mouthful of blood. Immediately, all the scars on his body began to tear open. The blood spilled out like smoke, seeping across the flower pool in an instant.

Mo Ran froze.

This was Chu Wanning's "Flower Spirit Sacrifice Technique"!

He realized that he might . . . be in trouble . . .

Chu Wanning's spiritual flow is a dual system of metal and wood. The metal energy was like "Tianwen", focusing on attack and defence. The redwood energy was used for healing.

Flower Spirit Sacrifice was one of those healing techniques. Chu Wanning could gather the spirits of hundreds of flowers to heal wounds. However, during the process, no other people should enter the array, otherwise, the spirits would scatter. Instead of healing, it would exacerbate the injury. In serious cases, Chu Wanning's spiritual core would most likely be snatched up by the spirits of the flowers.

Fortunately, Mo Ran had dabbled with the Flower Spirit Sacrifice Technique in his previous life and immediately severed the energy flow from the spirits. Chu Wanning, who had lost the support of the array, fell down and was steadily held by Mo Ran.

The unconscious shizun's face was pale, his lips blue, and his body was as cold as ice.

Mo Ran dragged him onto the shore. It was too dark out to see anything else. He half-held, half-dragged Chu Wanning back to his bedroom and lay him on the bed.

"Shizun? Shizun!"

After calling for him several times, there wasn't even the slightest tremble in Chu Wanning's eyelashes. Other than the slight rise in his chest, he looked dead.

Seeing Chu Wanning in this state reminded Mo Ran of his past life.

Inexplicably, his throat constricted and his heart raced.

In the last life, there were two people who died in Mo Ran's arms.

Shi Mei and Chu Wanning.

The two of them, one the love he had endlessly longed for, the other an enemy he had been entangled with all his life.

After Shi Mei was gone, Mo Weiyu ceased to exist in the world.

After Chu Wanning?

Mo Ran didn't know. He only remembered that, on that day, he guarded the person in his arms as he grew cold. He didn't cry, he didn't laugh; joy and sadness became out of reach.

After Chu Wanning was gone, Mo Weiyu no longer knew what the world was.

The lights were bright, illuminating Chu Wanning's exposed upper body.

Yuheng of the Evening Sky typically wore tight clothing. His overlapping collar was folded tight and high, and his waistband was wrapped around his waist three times, proper and simple.

Therefore, no one had seen how injured his body was after two hundred strikes . . .

That day, while he was being punished in the Court of Discipline, Mo Ran saw the beating wounds on Chu Wanning's back with his own eyes. At that time, he only knew that it was bloody and extremely grotesque. But then he saw that Chu Wanning walking around like normal and thought that he probably hadn't been hurt that badly.

Only at this moment did he realize that Chu Wanning's injuries were far more serious than he had imagined.

The five holes left by the Master of Ceremonies Ghost had fully reopened, the deepest of the holes even exposing some bone.

Chu Wanning probably didn't let anyone help reapply the medicine. He did it all by himself. The ointment was unevenly applied, and some places that he couldn't reach were inflamed and ulcerated.

Not to mention the bruises from the cane. They covered his entire back, almost no skin left unmarred. Plus, with the backlash from the array, now Chu Wanning's wounds were all torn open, blood flowing, staining the sheets underneath him.

If he didn’t witness it with his own eyes, Mo Ran wouldn't have believed that the person who insisted on wiping the bridge pillars and opening a huge rain-blocking barrier for the disciples was the person in front of him - this kind of serious injury could be classified as "debilitating".

If Chu Wanning hadn't lost consciousness, Mo Ran really wanted to grab him by the collar and ask him——

Chu Wanning, are you really that prideful?

If you bow your head and give in, who will stop you? Why do you have to be so stubborn? You're an adult. Why don't you know how to take care of yourself and treat yourself better?

Why are you so reluctant to ask others to help treat your wounds?

Why would you rather have two mechs help you with a healing array rather than ask for help?

Chu Wanning, you're delusional!!

Are you that stubborn?

He cursed to himself while he quickly tapped some acupuncture points to stop the bleeding. Then he fetched some hot water and wiped away the bloodstains on Chu Wanning's back . . .

The sharp knife was quenched and cut off the flesh that had completely festered.

For the first time, Chu Wanning groaned in pain, and his body jerking subconsciously. Mo Ran held him down, irritated: "What are you moaning for? Haven't been fucked recently? If you make any more noise, I'll stab you straight in the chest. If you die, it won't hurt anymore! It'll all be over!"

It was only at a time like this that Mo Ran could reveal his violent nature and scream at him like he did in his previous life.

But there were too many places where the wound was white and rotting. He gradually cleaned it while Chu Wanning was muttering and panting.

Even if he was unconscious, he worked hard to suppress his discomfort. He didn't shout or cry out in pain, simply covered in a layer of cold sweat. His body, which had just been wiped clean, was soaked in sweat again.

After working for almost an hour, he had finally applied the medicine and bandaged the wound.

Mo Ran helped Chu Wanning into some clothes and grabbed a thick blanket to cover the fevered shizun. He breathed a sigh of relief. Remembering that Madam Wang mixed medicine was still sealed in the paper bag, he took some boiling water and brewed a bowl of medicine, bringing it to Chu Wanning's bedside.

"Come on, take the medicine."

He picked up the sleeping person with one hand, letting him lean on his shoulder, and spooned the tonic with the other hand. He blew it and tried a sip first.

Mo Ran immediately frowned, his face screwed up: "Damn it, it's that bitter?" But he still let it cool and feed it to Chu Wanning.

Inevitably, after just half a spoonful, Chu Wanning couldn't stand it. He choked and coughed, spitting out the concoction, most of which splashed on Mo Ran's clothes.

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He knew that Chu Wanning didn't like anything bitter. He was almost afraid of it.

But if he was in his normal state of mind, the stubborn Elder Yuheng would definitely push through his disgust, swallowing the medicine in one swig. At most his face might pucker afterwards and he'd secretly eat a piece of candy.

Unfortunately, Chu Wanning was currently unconscious.

Mo Ran couldn't help it. It's not good to lose your temper with someone who's unconscious so you have to be patient and feed him small sips. From time to time, you have to use a handkerchief to wipe the tonic from the corner of his mouth.

This wasn't a difficult chance for Mo Ran. After all, in his previous life, for a while, he regularly had to feed Chu Wanning. At that time, Chu Wanning resisted, and Mo Ran slapped him in the face. Then he'd grab his chin and roughly kiss him, his tongue rushing in, blood flowing . . .

He didn't dare think too deeply about it. The last few spoonfuls Mo Ran fed him were a bit sloppy, almost half of them coughed up by Chu Wanning. Then he put the man to bed, Chu Wanning harshly twisted the covers.

"I'm so kind. Don't kick the blankets off, you'll get a fever. If you're not careful, you'll catch a cold again . . ."

Halfway through his rant, he suddenly lost his temper and kicked the leg of the bed.

"Forget it. What do I care if you catch a cold? I hope you get sicker and sicker and die.""

After speaking, he turned and left.

When he reached the door, he felt a tug in his heart and couldn't ignore it. So he turned back, thought about it, and put out the candle for him. Then he left again.

This time he walked to the edge of Red Lotus Pond. Looking at the increasingly beautiful water lilies that had been dyed with Chu Wanning's blood, the annoyance in his chest only grew.

He was annoyed but still returned to the bedroom.

He stiffly walked around the room like a rusty and ageing mecha before he finally reluctantly stood next to Chu Wanning's bed.

The moonlight peaked in from the half-open bamboo window, the silver glow fanning across Chu Wanning's handsome face.

His lips were pale, and his eyebrows were slightly furrowed.

Mo Ran hesitated and closed the window for him. It was very humid overnight. Sleeping with the windows open at night was always bad for a person. After doing this, Mo Ran inwardly cursed:

Just walked through the door and leave, you damned dog!

So, just as he walked to the door, with a bang, Chu Wanning actually kicked the blanket off.

Mo Ran: ". . ."

How could this person's habit of kicking the covers off the bed be changed?

In order not to be a dog, the sixteen-year-old Emperor TaXian had the backbone to ignore it and walk away.

He was true to his word and would never walk through that door!

A few moments later.

-- The wise and powerful emperor opened the window and tumbled in.

He picked the blanket up off the floor and covered Chu Wanning again. Mo Ran listened to Chu Wanning's soft painful groan. He twitched. Watching him curl up in the corner of the bed, no longer looking even half as fierce as he normally did.

His lips were cursing that he "deserved it", but, out of his compassion, he still started moving.

He sat by Chu Wanning's bedside and stood guard. He wouldn't let him kick the blanket off again.

It was late at night. After an exhausting day, Mo Ran couldn't keep his eyes open. His head slowly nodded down and he fell asleep.

It wasn't a good sleep. Chu Wanning kept tossing and turning. In his sleepy state, Mo Ran seemed to have heard him humming lowly.

Through his drowsiness and restful sleep, Mo Ran could barely distinguish between what was day or night. Somehow it had become natural to lie next to Chu Wanning and hold his twitching and trembling figure. He squinted his sleepy eyes, subconsciously stroking his back. He held the person in his arms and muttered softly in his sleep: "It's alright, it's alright. It doesn't hurt . . . It doesn't hurt . . ."

Mo Ran fell asleep, murmuring, as if he had returned to the Life-Death Peak of his previous life, back to the desolate and empty Wushan Hall.

Since Chu Wanning died, no one had slept beside him.

Even if their intimacy was bred out of hatred, those days after days spent in the cold made him think of nothing but his heartache, like ten thousand ants were devouring his heart.

But when he thought about it again, Chu Wanning couldn't come back.

He lost the last flame in his life.

On this night, Mo Ran embraced Chu Wanning, half-asleep and half-dreaming. One moment it was clear that he was living a new life, and in another, it was like it had been way back then.

He suddenly couldn't bear to open his eyes for fear that he would wake up tomorrow to an empty pillow and cold sheets. He was the only one left in a long life in this uncertain world.

He undoubtedly hated Chu Wanning.

However, when he held this person in his arms, the corners of his eyes grew a little moist.

He was the thirty-two-year-old Emperor TaXian, holding the warmth that he thought he would never find again.

"Wanning, it doesn't hurt anymore . . ."

His mind was hazy. Like before he had been reborn, Mo Ran stroked the hair of the person in his arms, muttering softly, unconsciously blurting out such a tender line.

He was so sleepy that he didn't even realize what he had said or what he had called the other. He spoke the words without any thought. They had just slipped out naturally. Mo Ran's breathing evened out and he plunged into an even deeper sleep.

Early the next morning, Chu Wanning's eyelashes fluttered and he leisurely awoke.

He had a strong cultivation base and the high fever that he had gotten overnight was already gone.

Chu Wanning drowsily opened his eyes, his mind still a bit fuzzy. He was about to get up but suddenly realized that someone was lying in the same bed as him.

. . . Mo-Mo Weiyu???

His shock wasn't something trivial. The colour drained from Chu Wanning's face. He couldn't remember what happened last night. What's worse, his movements had woken up Mo Ran.

The young man yawned. With a smooth and delicate face with a healthy blush that was typical of a sound sleep, he raised his confused eyes. He glanced at Chu Wanning lightly, and languidly said: "Ah . . . let me sleep a while longer . . . Since you're awake, go and cook me a bowl of preserved egg and pork congee . . ."

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

What was all this nonsense? Was he talking in his sleep?

Mo Ran was still out of it. Seeing that Chu Wanning didn't move, nor did he urge others to get up to cook the congee, he lazily smiled. He stretched out his hand and lowered Chu Wanning’s face, giving him a familiar kiss on the lips.

"It's okay, you don't have to get up. I just had a nightmare. In my dream . . . ah . . . nevermind." He sighed and embraced the man who had become completely lifeless and stiff. His chin rubbed against the hair of the person in his arms. He muttered, "Chu Wanning, let me hold you again."

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan

221 notes · View notes

makeste · 4 years

Text

“...and I bullied him.”

hello, hello, good afternoon or evening or whatever time it is. so by now we’ve all had some time to bask in those “Kacchan admitted he cares about Deku” feels (well, technically they were “All Might pointed out that Kacchan was worried about Deku and Kacchan didn’t deny it” feels, BUT THOSE MIGHT AS WELL BE THE SAME FEELS, YOU KNOW). and it’s been lovely. I’ve been having a time. it’s been nice.

but now I would like to talk a bit more about a part of this chapter which I think was even more important.

for me, this was the line of the chapter. this one panel may honestly be the biggest piece of Kacchan character development since all the way back in chapter 120. “I ended up bullying him.” okay but guys?? can we just talk?? about how absolutely extraordinary this one sentence is.

it’s self-aware.

introspection? from a kid who’s had to be dragged kicking and screaming to every character development milestone he’s ever experienced in his life? and on an emotional level that actually goes deeper, and doesn’t just stop at the surface-level anger that’s so often his instinctive reaction to everything? who are you and what have you done with Bakugou Katsuki lol.

but seriously, the level of self-analysis here almost stunned me, guys. not only does he demonstrate a very impressive level of insight into Deku (something I especially love because it mirrors the many analyses Deku has made of him, and shows that the understanding between them is actually mutual), but he also shows an unprecedented degree of insight into himself. like, historically speaking, Bakugou and Feelings have not always exactly been on the same page, you know? so for him to suddenly get so thoughtful now, and sincerely try to analyze these feelings which up until now he’s always ignored and avoided dealing with... that is such a huge step. also, bonus points: he recognizes it as a problem within himself, and doesn’t try to pin the blame on Deku in any way. he recognizes that he’s the one who reacted badly to Deku’s behavior. to be able to examine your own feelings like that and arrive at a conclusion that acknowledges that you’re not the good guy in this, that you’re the one who made the mistake -- that takes a level of accountability that not everyone possesses.

it’s self-prompted.

okay this one is a big deal honestly. no one put a gun to Katsuki’s head here and forced him to confess this. all All Might said was “you’re worried about him too” and that somehow prompted a level of emotional honesty that Katsuki has never before shown. now, based on the fact that the successors’ notebook is still fresh in Katsuki’s mind, and that All Might mentioned earlier that Aizawa couldn’t help because he was “busy at the moment”, this conversation likely took place shortly after the kids returned from their New Year’s break. meaning that this was basically right after the Endeavor internship arc, when thoughts about seeking atonement were still fresh on Katsuki’s mind. so this isn’t entirely out of the blue; it shows that Katsuki did, in fact, learn exactly what All Might was hoping he would learn from Endeavor.

but it’s one thing for this to be on his mind, and another thing entirely for him to actually confess it out loud. and I absolutely will give him full credit for that. he admits, without anyone forcing him to, that he bullied Deku. there’s no incentive for him to do this whatsoever. Deku isn’t there to hear it. he’s not admitting it for the purposes of seeking forgiveness. he’s simply just being honest, and owning up to what he did because he realizes it was wrong. and that takes a lot of inner strength, to do that. to not shy away from it and keep pretending like it never happened. this is a huge first step for him.

it’s a confession that leaves him emotionally vulnerable.

this is another big one. it’s not always evident because he makes a big effort to downplay it, but Katsuki looks up to All Might every bit as much as Deku does. he seeks his approval, he wants All Might to be proud of him, even though he very often puts on a big show of not caring about it at all. it means a lot to him. a lot.

and Katsuki knows how much All Might cares about Deku. and sure, All Might is already perfectly aware that Katsuki and Deku aren’t exactly on the best of terms, and he’s always been understanding about it; always gently compassionate and attempting to smooth things out between them without being judgmental.

but All Might also doesn’t know everything about the two of them. and even with Kacchan and Deku’s relationship never exactly being on the most rock solid of terms at U.A., there’s still a vast difference between the way they interact there, and the way that they interacted back in middle school. when Katsuki was not only hostile, but occasionally downright cruel. and when Deku was still quirkless, and very much not on equal footing with Kacchan in terms of power, and yet Kacchan bullied him anyway.

what Katsuki is confessing here puts him at risk of rejection from one of the people whose opinion of him matters the most. he’s opening himself up to the possibility that All Might might not, for once, react with his trademark understanding. he’s admitting to All Might, I did something unherolike, and I hurt someone you care about, and I didn’t have a good reason for doing it. All Might, in the moment immediately following this statement, has an incredible amount of power over Katsuki. he has the ability to withdraw his support, to condemn him, to pull away and decide that Katsuki is not someone worthy of becoming a hero after all. he has all the power in the world over Katsuki in this one moment; a rejection from him would be a blow he’d never recover from.

and Katsuki, knowing this, tells him anyway. willingly opens himself up to that possibility of being hurt, of being rejected and shunned by the person who inspired his dream. because the alternative is being dishonest with him. this is, in short, a decision made because he believes All Might deserves to know this, and deserves to hear the truth from him. he wants his approval so badly, but he can’t live with the knowledge that he’s “tricked” him into giving it. so he tells him the truth, ready to face whatever consequences might arise from that. and I think that might be one of the bravest things he’s ever done.

it’s not attempting to shirk responsibility.

this, right here, is why Katsuki is my favorite character. because even though he’s flawed, even though he’s made a lot of mistakes, when he realizes that and is confronted by it, he never tries to hide from them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: to me, the essence of Katsuki is that he is someone who is always trying to be better. he wants to be a good hero; he wants to be a good person. when people point out to him that he’s done something wrong, he listens. it doesn’t always sink in right away, sure, and sometimes he gets stubborn and it can be hard to hammer that truth in. but once he gets it, he always makes the change. he never tries to make excuses. he owns up to his shit and does his best to course correct.

with this acknowledgement here, that he bullied Deku, there’s no attempt on his part to say that it was Deku’s fault, that Deku shouldn’t have done this or that. he doesn’t blame his parents or his teachers or try to act like he didn’t know any better. he makes no attempt whatsoever to justify it. it’s just simple, honest truth. back then, I ignored my own weakness, so I ended up bullying him. it’s a plea of guilt. no attempt to mitigate it or downplay it. the verb he uses, “ijimeta”, doesn’t water it down.

“to ill-treat; to torment; to be cruel to.” there’s no attempt here to paint this in a flattering light at all. which is good. because in order for him to really atone for it, to really go the distance in his redemption arc which we’re all rooting for him to do, the most important step is for him to take responsibility. he can’t learn from it if he’s trying to hide from it or make excuses for what he did wrong. he has to fully acknowledge his mistakes. and that’s exactly what this is.

it shows remorse.

that’s right y’all. they sent my boy out to do an internship with Endeavor over the holidays, and he came back having learned the true meaning of Christmas. his heart really did grow three sizes. honey badger does care.

there is genuine, sincere remorse for his actions here. he’s sorry for what he did. he regrets what he did. there’s real contrition there. it’s not forced or insincere. again, nobody made him say this! nobody pressured him, nobody led him on. these are his own feelings. I bullied Deku. I shouldn’t have done that to him. I want to atone for it.

I know some people in fandom don’t think this is enough. the same thing happened with Endeavor as well. people aren’t always satisfied with restorative justice; they want retribution. they want punishment for his actions. and that’s a natural feeling; it stems back to that instinct of wanting everything to be fair, which I mentioned in another meta not too long ago.

but the thing is, retributive, punitive justice doesn’t actually help anyone. it doesn’t restore what was lost. Katsuki being punished doesn’t do anything to undo what was done to Deku. it doesn’t do anything to heal the harm that was dealt. it doesn’t do anything to make things better for either of them moving forward.

but do you know what does? restorative justice. making amends. which is exactly what this is building up to now.

it shows an understanding that remorse is not enough, and that in order to move forward he has to take action to be a better person.

Katsuki understands that simply being sorry for what he did is not enough. I suspect that’s one reason why he hasn’t attempted to apologize to Deku yet; because he recognizes that after years of tormenting him for stupid and self-centered reasons, a simple apology might seem meaningless at best and self-serving at worst. it puts pressure on Deku to make a decision to either accept or not accept it. Katsuki saw the Todoroki siblings struggling with a similar conflict not too long ago. and he knows better than anyone else how selfless Deku can be. “deep down, he doesn’t take himself into account, y’know?” and so if Katsuki simply apologizes, Deku might end up offering forgiveness that he doesn’t actually deserve, just because Deku is that kind of person who puts others above himself.

and so rather, what Katsuki has opted to do for now is to put all his efforts into helping Deku. he knows Deku is in a considerable amount of danger. he knows how much Deku has on his plate with the SIXQUIRKS and trying to handle all of that. and he knows there are other potential dangers looming which they don’t even know about yet. he’s been alert and anxious about this -- you saw how quickly his mind leaped to worst-case scenarios about the past OFA users; how he was sure that All Might was hiding something from them, and how agitated and apprehensive he got thinking about what that might be.

“I’m worried for him. you are, too,” All Might said. and Katsuki didn’t deny it. didn’t even try. he is worried about Deku. he’s worried about what he has to face. he’s worried about him getting in over his head and something happening to him. and so the way that he has chosen to try and atone is to help him. with his training, with his quirks; whatever he can do. if he needs to push him he’ll push him. whatever he can do to help make him stronger. and if he needs to protect him, he’ll do that too.

atonement is not the same thing as forgiveness. atonement is about trying to make up for what you did, to try and correct your mistakes however you can. it doesn’t mean you’re pardoned from them. all it means is that you’ve acknowledged them, and are doing your best -- doing whatever you can -- to repair the harm done, and to be a better person going forward. and sometimes there is no way to ever completely make up for it. sometimes you can’t undo the harm, because you can’t go back and change the past. the only thing you can change is the now, and the future.

and so Katsuki is trying to atone. he’s trying to be the friend Deku deserves now, since he wasn’t before. he’s trying his best to make things right, and it all starts with this one sentence. that acknowledgement of what he did, of what can’t be changed. acknowledgement of the mistake, so that he can learn from it, so that it never happens again.

so yeah. BnHA Redemption Arcs strike again. Horikoshi you smooth son of a bitch.

#bnha 284 #bakugou katsuki #all might #midoriya izuku #bakudeku #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

2K notes · View notes