#this is what sleep deprivation does to a person!!!!

[asgardian-angel]

SO MUCH YES^! Adding onto this re attacking Mace. Anakin is actively fighting a war, he's been in it for years and tensions within the Jedi have reached fever pitch. He literally grew up watching this Council, with Mace at its head, make war decisions they should NEVER have made! They accepted a slave clone army, and placed people like Anakin in direct leadership contact. They sent children to war because they ran out of adults. Many of Anakin's peers have died. Many children have died. Many systems didn't want anything to do with this war. But at the same time, the Separatists were doing so much bad that these Jedi evils were mostly the better call! The politics and justifications are all over the place.

...basically, Palpatine set this war up to destroy the Jedi from the outside and from within. That was his goal.

On a personal level, Anakin had been forced into a role as Chosen One with impossible strings attached. With Mace being one of his loudest naysayers, the Council made incredible demands on him while at the same time refusing him answers and open-mindedness because they were afraid of his power. That's not just Anakin whining, it actually happened. Mace Windu, while himself developing a combat style based off controlled rage, has almost persecuted Anakin in his pursuit to keep him obedient and compliant. Because Mace and the Council feared Anakin's uncontrolled power. And the thing is... Jedi aren't supposed to be afraid. They aren't supposed to fight political wars. They aren't supposed to have hidden prisons (or maybe executions, Anakin has no way of knowing) see below*. This is all what they pushed into Anakin's head, they insist and insist that he MUST obey the Jedi code, then pull stunts like this.

So here's Mace, with a history of double standards and high-handedness anywhere that Anakin is concerned, making the executive decision to execute Palpatine. After Anakin reminded him of what Mace always insisted Anakin adhere to: "This is not the Jedi way". AND HE WAS RIGHT. Not only does sleep-deprived, desperate, war-torn Anakin truly believe he needs his groomer Palpatine (again, Jedi failing him) to save Padme. The Jedi aren't supposed to execute people. So when Mace ignores him and will. kill. Palpatine. now. this. is. a. legit. emergency. Anakin still tries to be what they taught him to be: as a good Jedi he cuts off Mace's arm. That is the acceptable way to stop a combat, Obi Wan Perfect Example of a Jedi Kenobi taught him this. Anakin has experienced this pain himself. It's the right thing to do.

Mace screams and just keeps screaming. Idk, I didn't hear any other arm-victim scream like that, maybe he's coming off a high of "controlled" rage maybe? Anyway, Palpatine turns around like BOO! and kills Mace and its all so fast there's nothing Anakin could have done.

Anakin does all the things right. He did as the Jedi thought him to do. In one terrible moment he was betrayed by the Jedi Mace and got played by the Sith Sidious. All that was left was to save Padme's life.

*... secret Jedi prison, see the 5-issue comic Darth Vader and the Ghost Prison. Link to post with panels.

Anidala rant

Alright I really don't understand people saying that Anakin didn't actually love Padmé, he was just obsessive and then used her as an excuse to get more power.

First off, love in general is just a tad bit obsessive okay? I'm a bit obsessed with my husband, I love him, he's amazing. You have to be a little obsessive to have the courage to bear your heart and soul to someone who you are absolutely NOT supposed to be with. Also, can we talk about the fact that after Padmé "rejected" him he totally backed down? I mean he still loved her, but he wasn't going to push it anymore until she admitted that she loved him too.

Also…ANAKIN LITERALLY SACRIFICES HIS SOUL because he can't bear the thought of living without her. If it isn't clear enough in the movies (it is crystal clear) then the Revenge of the Sith novelization makes it even more so. He is genuinely horrified when he discovers that his friend, the Chancellor has been a Sith Lord this whole time, and multiple times he wishes Obi-wan was there with him because Anakin is so confused and has no idea what to do. And the ONLY reason he goes back to "save" Palpatine is because he can't let Palpatine die without learning how to save Padmé.

EVEN WHEN MACE IS FIGHTING PALPATINE Anakin wants Palpatine to BE ARRESTED. The only time Anakin moves against Mace Windu is when Mace is about to kill Palpatine, who has convinced Anakin that he is the only one who has the knowledge to save Padmé.

His turning to the Dark Side has nothing to do with power, and solely to do with wanting to save his wife from certain death. Dude was literally about to leave the Jedi Order, and he honestly didn't care anymore about being granted the rank of Master. The only reason he NEEDED the rank so badly is because he wanted to look up stuff in the Jedi archives ways he could possibly save Padmé, but only Jedi Masters were able to access some of these files. Add in the fact that his nightmares had made it impossible for him to sleep for literal days (weeks?) before the battle in the Chancellor's office.

Even when he's choking her on Mustafar, it's not because he never loved her, it's because he is in so much pain. All he sees is that the woman he loves most in the world, the woman he has sacrificed everything for and destroyed his soul for, WANTS HIM DEAD. Which of course isn't true, but why else would she have brought Obi-wan with her? He chokes her because every one of her words is a dagger, he feels betrayed and he can't listen to it anymore or he'll shatter. –This is not an excuse for any kind of abuse, but you have to understand the emotional turmoil he is going through. This is also not an argument that what he did was RIGHT in any way after turning to the Dark Side, but you do have to see how his actions (to him, at least) make perfect sense and that NONE of his actions hint at the fact that he either didn't love her or stopped loving her. He loved her even as Vader, he loved her forever.

Anyway, sorry, I've been reading the ROTS novelization and I'm almost done with it and I'm sad and emotional.

[kiraley]

Hitoshi Shinsou x Yandere!Reader

Description: Shinsou doesn’t like your obsessive coddling. Or maybe he does.

Trigger Warnings - Infantilization. Pet play. Yandere and tsundere themes. Kidnapping. Brief brainwashing. Mentions of bullying, insecurity, and being restrained. Stockholm syndrome. This is meant to be a lighthearted one-shot, however, so nothing too serious is shown! No NSFW content. Age of Characters - 18+. Gender Identity of (Y/n) - Unspecified. 

***

“Stay still for me, Kitty Cat!”

“No.”

“But these cat ears are the cutest! You’d look so cute if you just stayed still and let me put them on you.”

“Don’t care.”

“Don’t be like that. Who’s my good little kitty cat?”

“Stop this.”

“You are! Yes, you are~!”

“I said stop.”

Shinsou’s deep voice severed through your affectionate babbles. He dismissed you in any way he could. Though, he couldn’t do much to begin with. Not with you straddled to the lap of the taller male, forcing him to be pampered like a helpless little kitten. He shifted in discomfort against the restraints securing him to a chair. Funnily enough, the restraints in question were of his own capture weapon. He was almost impressed at your ability to one-up him, had he not been pissed at being abducted. He’s long since abandoned the struggle to escape his binding, but that didn’t stop him from occasionally retracting from you, or uttering a grievance in protest. He didn’t appreciate you stepping over his pride with your affectionate overindulgence. He found it to be quite flustering.

“Why would I stop now? We’re just getting to the good part!”

After placing a cat ear headband onto his scalp, you continued to accessorize your darling. Hitoshi’s gaze lingered past your own as he stared off into the distance with a deadpan expression. Your fingers brushed against the nape of his neck as you worked to clasp a black choker around his neck suited with a small bell. He shivered against the feeling of your fingers on his skin. Finally, you dismounted his lap and stepped back to view your progress. Hitoshi donned a black, white, and purple themed cat boy maid outfit, with matching cat ears, gloves, thigh-high stockings, and a tail. Minor cosmetic application complimented his look as you adorned his face with emo-esq eyeliner- accentuating his sleep-deprived eyes, and a touch of dark lipstick. And of course a painted on nose and whiskers!

You couldn’t help but swoon even more. He was just too cute! Though the outfit was missing something- a final touch! BUT WHAT???

In contrast, Hitoshi grunted in dissatisfaction. He couldn’t have been more humiliated.

“We're just about done with your outfit! It's coming along so nicely.”

“Oh, goody.”

Your outstretched smile was greeted by his unimpressed muse. You giggled at his reaction and toyed with the bell attached to his necklace.

“This choker really adds to the edge of your personality. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I'm not answering that.”

“You just did, Kitty Cat!”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I'll consider it if you behave like a good kitty for me~,”

“That's an oxymoron.”

“Aw, shucks. I guess you're right! Might as well call you Kitty Cat, anyway.”

Much to his dismay, his impassive commentary was dodged left and right, rendered ineffective against your blinding adoration. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, enclasping him partially, and snuggled into the side of his face. He huffed out and tried to turn his head away from yours as you rubbed against him like a clingy feline in demand of scritchies. For someone who refers to him as a kitty cat, you sure acted more like a cat than he did.

“This is highly unorthodox.”

“"Unorthodox"? Please! Is it so wrong to be hopelessly in-love with you?” you purred in admiration.

“If that’s what you’d call being a delusional stalker.” 

A quirk of agitation flexed a muscle on his forehead as you laughed off his insult.

“Being feisty, are we? I do love it when you bare your teeth at me, Kitty Cat,” you lulled into his ear. “Be a good little kitten and “meow” for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not entertaining your insanity.”

“You should. It’s far too much fun.”

“Have mercy on me, (Y/n). I’m not a pet.” he retorted, sardonically.

“That’s not my name, silly.” you countered in a sickeningly sweet tone. 

Through gritted teeth, Hitoshi spoke with much reluctance.

“Oh, sweet darling of mine,” he corrected himself with the most apathetic voice, “please, do have mercy on me. I think we’ve both had our fair share of coddling tonight.”

“But, Kitty Cat! It would be the opposite of mercy if I deprived you of my affection!” you objected lightly, “And you’re just the cutest thing ever! I couldn’t stop showering you in love, even if I wanted to. Not that I would ever want to. Or even could.” 

“How considerate of you.” he mumbled sarcastically. He tried to ignore the warmth in his cheeks by looking away. Maybe he was just feeling restless.

“Look, I'm getting tired. Can I just go to bed?”

“You mean, can WE go to bed~?”

“Can. We. Please. Go. To. Bed.” he seethed through a gritted smile.

“But I'm so close to completing your outfit! And I had so many fun activities planned! And you just wanna sleep?!”

“Obviously.”

You sighed out.

“Well, I don't want you to be tired. My kitty needs his beauty sleep, after all. So I guess I'll wrap this up.”

“Good.” he said sternly.

“Right after I finish your look and take some pictures!”

“ . . . ”

“I'd knew you'd agree!”

“I was feeling the exact opposite.”

“Now,” you cleared your throat as you reached for something in your back pocket, “let’s finish your look, shall we? This bow-tie is just the thing.”

“Please, don’t.” he countered blandly as he attempted to wriggle away. His disobedience caused you to grin.

“I’ll loosen your binds if you promise to behave like a good kitten.”

He stopped moving and his eyes noticeably lit up at the prospect. Was he about to sacrifice what little pride he had left just to appease your mania? Well, not like he had much pride to begin with after everything you’ve subjected him to in terms of your mollycoddling. He considered your proposal as a possible way to break free to the outside world once again. Without being tied-up, he’d have a much easier time to plan his escape. And inevitably fail. 

His compliance lacked verbalization as he nodded silently in agreement.

“Use your words, Kitty.”

He paused to glare at you. You were getting under his skin, and he knew that you knew that. He could tell from your ever-growing smirk and how your words tinged with such innocent condescension. There was nothing more enjoyable to you than teasing your darling to death.

“I promise.” 

“You promise to~?” you drawled with a loving coo, leaning in for added effect.

He heaved another sigh and rolled his eyes.

“I promise to behave.”

You hummed a smooth chuckle and patted his head as a reward for his obedience. He cringed as you did so.

“Good boy.”

You parted from his lap to unravel the binding cloth around his torso and limbs. The white fabric fell to the floor in a muted thump as his arms and hands gained freedom. You stepped back and watched him stretch out his weary limbs and rub his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at his ever-persistent state of sleepiness. He reminded you too much of a cat, even down to the smallest of details. You knew the cat costume was a great idea! And of course it had to be maid-themed. Not for any particular reason. But the emo aspect of his outfit spoke for itself. It fit his personality!

His eyes slowly drifted to meet yours. A subtle look of calculation crossed his visage. A look that, perhaps, you'd fail to pick up on in your current state of swooning.

“Will you ever get tired of the kitten play?” he asked strategically.

“I could never!!”

Bingo.

He smirked to himself. The words slipped past your lips seemingly without thought. With his body unrestrained, and your blissful ignorance causing you to respond, the opportunity to escape presented itself. He was about to activate his quirk when he stopped to ponder his plan. Maybe he'll keep you under a state of immobilization. But how long would the effects of his quirk last until he found a means to escape? You’ve broken the immobilization tactic before as he was mid-escape; the process would likely repeat if he tried it again. Or he could brainwash you into going to sleep. Or brainwash you into entering a comatose state.

No- he's tried that, too. The moment he ordered you to slip into unconsciousness, your conscious mind awakened immediately to subdue him. It both impressed him and terrified him, to say the least. You may not be the first to break from his hypnosis, but you remain the only person to actively break from his hypnosis. It's as if the grip of his quirk is completely useless against you. Or at least, his quirk is rendered useless if it were to come in the way of you and your beloved.

If he can't subdue you in that regard, maybe he could brainwash you to unlock a door or window leading to the outside world. Then he could run away into the night with his newly found freedom. Or maybe he could restrain you with his capture weapon, and then summon the police and/or pro-hero's to deal with your crazy ass. He needed to find a way to brainwash you that wouldn't involve you snapping out of his hypnosis, consequently leading to a time-out for his misbehavior. Sometimes he'd be forced to wear a hat of shame as part of his punishment for acting out, but we don't talk about that.

. . .  

“Earth to 'Toshi~,”

Just like that, he was snapped from his daze.

“''Toshi"? That's your new nickname for me?” he answered sarcastically.

“I figured that would get your attention.”

He shot you a stoical expression.

“I honestly can't believe how uncool you are.”

“Le gasp!! I am OFFENDED!” you overemphasized as you clamped a hand over your heart, before a smile flickered on your lips. “Anyway, where were we?”

“Doing anything but this.”

“Heh! You're funny!”

Hitoshi grunted. For once, he decided to ignore his thoughts. He'll think of an escape plan later, he rationalized as he thinned his lips, tasting the faint flavor of the lipstick. His gloved fingers started smoothening over his wrists and forearms. They were kind of sore from being restrained. You replaced his fingers with your own as you massaged the tender areas. You hummed as you did so- a contended look etched on your face. His hardened gaze softened ever so lightly at your delicate ministrations. There was such a slight, but tender look in his eye as he inspected your countenance, as if the tranquility of your aura was affecting him, as well. The way your fingers moved with such gentle precision . . . Taking care of him with such doting consideration . . . As you always did . . .

“Better?” you questioned, snapping him away from another daze.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, “thanks.”

His absentminded politeness caused you to let out a surprised gasp.

“Look at you using proper manners! I didn't even have to remind you. I’m so proud of you, Kitty Cat.”

Your hand found its way to his head as you rewarded him with the head pats of a lifetime. Your fingers interweaved with his already messy locks, rustling his hair back and forth, and the tips of your nails gently grazed his scalp. You even caressed his cat ears, feigning them to be real ears.

“Such a good kitty cat, aren’t you? Aren’t youuuu? Who's my precious baby boy?”

His contentment dispersed, replaced by bashfulness. A stuttered noise emitted from his throat as he found himself at a loss for words. To add insult to injury, you started leaving smoochies all over his face. The added peppering of kisses proved too much for him to handle and he crumbled under the weight of your love.

“Ngh, hey--! Stop that!”

A deep shade of crimson tinctured his fair face. With your affection making him feel more flustered than usual, his brows furrowed and he tried to shoo you away. You denied his efforts to do so- instead, you giggled at his mortification.

“Awe, is my kitty feeling embarrassed? Do you enjoy your head pats and kisses? Don't be shy, now. You can tell me.”

He refuted your observation with subtle indignance, huffing to himself. 

“N--no, I don't, you idiot. Don’t get the wrong idea.” 

“Noooo, I would never.” you teased, sitting back down onto the comfort of his lap, “It's not like your face is beet red or anything.”

He cleared his throat sharply. The uncomfortably hot sensation in his cheeks couldn't be disputed. You were an expert in making him feel flustered, after all. It's not like there was a part of him that subconsciously enjoyed this.

“I'm only red because you're irritating me.”

“Sureeeeee. Definitely not from blushing!”

“Would you shut up already?” he mumbled, cursing at himself internally for blushing.

“Easy, tiger! No need to bring your claws out! Let’s just finish up your outfit, shall we?”

Begrudgingly, he sat there in silence as you finalized his look. You fastened a frilly purple bow tie around his neck to seal the deal, humming innocently to yourself. The reserved man detested this more than anything. The man just wanted his sleep. Or in the very least, to get away from your babying. His pride and heart couldn't take much more of this.

An adjustment here- a tightening there, and . . . VOILA! You bounced to your feet to admire your magnum opus. At last, the emo cat boy arc has been achieved, and you couldn’t have been happier. The same could not be said for your purple-haired pet. You doubled-over, placing your hands on your knees as you positioned yourself to be at eye-level with Hitoshi.

“Do you feel bonita?” 

. . . 

“Do you, or do you not feel bonita?” you asked again- this time, with much more conviction.

He sighed out the last remaining semblance of dignity.

“I feel bonita.”

“Wonderful! Because you look bonita,”

You grabbed his face and planted a prolonged smooch on his forehead. A noise of disgruntlement warbled from his squished cheeks as you rested your forehead against his.

“You are very precious to me.”

“I can't say the same.”

“Come on, now,” you started, softly, “it’s not so bad, is it? Being here with me? We're in-love, and we're meant to be together. Forever. You know this just as much as I do.” 

Shinsou's stare hardened as he glared daggers at you. An expression that read "are you kidding me?"

“This is what you would call a power imbalance. Or perhaps a "toxic relationship." No- "unrequited love" works better. What we have is not even a relationship to begin with. I never agreed to be your partner.”

“Silly little kitten,” you murmured with a hint of slyness in your tone, “if you were against me as much as you say, you would’ve used your quirk to free yourself ages ago.”

Suddenly, his fierce composure wavered. His gaze inadvertently softened as his eyes expanded in realization.

“I–I have tried. Numerous times.” he stumbled over his words, foiling his attempt to sound serious.

“No, no, no,” you booped his nose in three intervals, feigning offence, “don’t lie like that. It's not fair to the both of us. You can’t sit there and tell me you were actually trying to escape those previous times.”

Hitoshi gave you an incredulous look. Your accusations had him flummoxed to a degree he couldn't quite explain. He was against this situation, wasn't he? Of course he would be. There's no way he actually enjoyed your company.

. . .

Maybe you had a point, after all.

No. He shook his head.

There's just no way.

Maybe just a little bit.

Hitoshi scoffed, his eye failing to meet yours as he dismissed your words, “What makes you think I wasn't trying, (Y/n)? You literally kidnapped me. You force me to be your "kitty cat" everyday. So of course I've tried to escape.”

“Hitoshi, darling,” you started and pulled away to meet his uncertain gaze, “"Tried" is exactly the point. You don't try to escape with that much effort anymore. I'll admit, at first when I brought you here, you gave it your all trying to escape my love. Trying to deny your love for me. You almost got away from me at one point, too, y'know. Almost,”

You pinched his cheek lovingly before continuing.

“But it didn't take long for your self-proclaimed "declaration of war" to run its course. You aren't resisting nearly as much anymore. Your attempts to "fight back" are amusing at best, lackluster at worst. And let's be real; you're the type to put up a fight to ensure you won't let anything get in your way. It doesn't matter the cost. You and I both know just how capable you are. How strong and dedicated you are when it comes to your goals. You aren’t weak. Not by any means. If you wanted to leave, you would’ve done so long ago. Especially with how powerful your quirk is.”

Silence was his only response- sans for a gaping mouth. The deepest hue of rosiness tinged his pale cheeks and his brain wracked with a surge of thoughts as he struggled to rationalize with this revelation. Meanwhile, you were nonchalant. Your half-lidded gaze looked down as you adjusted his bowtie. It's like you were expecting this. And that's because you were.

“That’s why I know that, deep down, you're okay with this. That’s how I know you love me, too. You just haven't accepted it into your heart yet. Not completely, anyway.”

You crane your neck to peer down at him with an expression of prideful amusement. His composure faltered underneath your softly domineering smirk. There was no way he could refute your argument. You had him figured out even before he had himself figured out.

“Judging by your reaction, I can already tell you've come to terms with all of this. I can see you accepted that, maybe, just maybe, you aren't as against this as you initially thought. Isn't that right?”

He avoided your gaze to glance to the side as he cleared the tension from the back of his throat.

Well, shit.

Looks like the cat is out of the bag for real this time.

“I guess I’ll take this over being outcasted by society and villainized for my quirk.”

His relented response caused you to chuckle. He attempted to establish an expressionless facade but you could tell he was overwhelmed with emotion. And you wouldn't be wrong. You maneuvered your hand through the soft, disheveled tufts of his Indigo mane. The small act of comfort caused his heart to soar with elation. He probably shouldn’t enjoy this, but he can’t help it. He was wrapped around your pretty little finger; an indisputable fact, one that he'd finally come to accept. Maybe deep down, all along, he knew his little acts of resistance were something to prolong the inevitable. To delay accepting his feelings for you. After all, the only real escape was in your arms. The only future he had going for him is a future where you're right beside him. Even if that meant being pampered like a pet all the way. Maybe you weren't that bad, after all.

“I already knew that.” you said, smiling.

He closed his eyes and sighed gently. Not in agitation. Rather, in a subtle display of submission and acceptance.

“The world doesn’t appreciate you. It never has. Nobody has ever appreciated you,” you spoke partially to yourself and partially to him. “Nobody could ever appreciate you the way I do.”

A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest. He couldn’t help but agree with your statement.

“Maybe you’re right. You’re the first person to not view me as less than human, or accuse me of being something I’m not. The first to see me as something other than a villain.”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I mean, at this point, there's no point in denying my feelings. And there's no denying that you're the only one who never judged me for my quirk. And for that, I'm grateful to you, (Y/n). For giving me a chance. For always being there for me, and for taking care of me now.”

He hated to admit it, but he could appreciate you for who you are. Even prior to becoming your captive, you were the only one to ever treat him with basic human respect. Others rejected him, ostracized him. They deemed him a freak- someone with a quirk suited for villainy. He kept to himself, yet they persisted in his apparent villainous nature. If he was silent, he was plotting. If he spoke, he was an intrusion. If he looked at you, he was perverse. If he didn’t, he was judging. If he worked with others, he was a mooch. If he was alone, he was stuck-up. That’s all he was to people; the embodiment of depravity, no matter the angle he was viewed from, no matter how contradictory their accusations were. He would always be the bad guy. All because of his natural gift.

“Of course. It’s because I love you. I’m the only one in this world who understands you. The REAL you.”

You were the opposite. The complete opposite to what he’d been accustomed to for his entire life. You weren’t afraid to be around him. You weren’t disgusted, judgmental, or abrasive. You spoke to him directly, answering his questions with direct eye-contact. No sign of hesitation, no waver in your voice. You regarded him as another human being- simple as that. You felt comfortable enough to approach him, to smile at him, to invite him for studying sessions and the likes. The only one to ever see past his apparent “villainous” exterior. And for that, he had to thank you, to show you his gratitude.

“The people who judge you and bully you- they claim to be better, yet they treat you so terribly. Who is the villain then, huh? The one fighting to become a hero despite everything, or the one who rejects those based on something they can’t control?” you asked in rhetorical reference. “You aren't the villain. They are. The audacity they have to mistreat you, abuse you, and then claim to be heroic is disgusting. They're all hypocrites. Every last one of them.”

You scoffed. Your hands instinctively tightened around him and you nestled into the curvature of his neck. Your words, tinged with repugnance, hit too close to home for the introverted male. All he could do was look at you in his state of shock. His heart fluttered, accelerated by a burning passion emerging from his soul. He remained silent, allowing the sentiments to fester in his mind, and allowing his repressed feelings to finally surface.

“You don’t need to worry about them anymore. You don't need to worry about anything else anymore. I’ll take care of you. From now until forever.”

A comfortable silence befell the two of you. He made no effort to protest your love this time around, nor did he feel any resistance to your benevolence. On the contrary- he wanted to indulge further. From the bottom of his heart, he longed to share his heart with yours. He wanted to accept your love. To be a willing recipient, who not only receives love, but delivers it, too. His soft expression then soured. His thoughts of internal self-wallowing began to emerge, and his expression furrowed into a display of doubt. Even after your declaration, lingering anxieties got the better of him. The remnants of his past came back to haunt him again as he doubted your intentions. He couldn't help it.

“You mean it when you say you love me, right? This isn’t some sick joke? Some misguided, deluded power-trip?”

Your head shot up as you responded to him in a heartbeat.

“Of course I do–,”

The sound of your own heartbeat reverberated in your ears as an immediate stillness enclosed every fiber of your being. A cold numbness beyond your capabilities restricted your mind and body, depriving you of free will. No longer were you in control of yourself.

With your movements halted and your eyes glazed over with an expression starved of emotion, he pounced. He’s brainwashed you before, but never to inquire about your true intentions. A part of him needed to be reminded of your love, but under the condition of his quirk. He needed to know that this was real.

He was a needy little kitty, after all.

“Answer truthfully,” he commanded. “Do you love me?”

“Yes. I love you more than anything. I would do anything to prove my love for you. I would do anything for you to love me.”

Your response was instantaneous. Even under hypnosis, your voice was defined by pure, unadulterated compassion. Shinsou released a staggered breath of air- one he wasn’t aware he was holding in.

He shouldn’t care about your love.

He really shouldn’t.

He shouldn’t even think about loving you, either.

Even after you kidnapped him- even after the countless pampering sessions, where you treat him as some little pet needing to be cared for constantly. He shouldn’t be entertaining your insanity; he’s said it before.

But . . . 

Maybe he doesn't care what he "should" or "shouldn't" do anymore. Maybe that’s the line between heroism and villainy that becomes blurred. To love someone who is a villain- to acknowledge and appreciate the good qualities in them.

But who's to say who is and who isn't a villain? Maybe you were just like him. Someone deemed a “villain” merely for existing out of the boundaries of conventionality. Someone called a "villain" just because you lived life a little differently from others.

You may have done some.. less than lawful things, but you still had a good heart. Was this justification? Rationalization? Should he be concerned that he was falling for his kidnapper?

Eh.

Looks like he didn’t care about that anymore.

Coloration was restored the shrinking whites of your eyes as the grip of his quirk relinquished from your being. When you came to, you gazed at him in loving adoration, a soft smirk adorning your lips. The coldness from his quirk was replaced by the warmth of your love. He refused your stare by looking at the ground in shame. The bell on his choker jangled slightly as he did so.

“Have I,” he struggled to find his words as he willingly resigned to his fate, “misbehaved?”

You giggled at his remark.

“Not at all,”

Your hand grasped his cheek as you redirected his gaze, staring deeply into his dark purple eyes.

“I like when you use your quirk on me, Kitty Cat.”

Any mental restraint holding him back disappeared once you said those words.

For the first time, Shinsou initiated the first move by leaning in to kiss you. Something unanticipated from both sides. Your breathing caught in your throat as you were taken aback by his emboldened move. His arms slithered around your form to pull you flush against his chest- his long digits splaying across your back, sending a series of pleasant tingles down your spine. Your shock diminished quickly and you melted into his touch. Your palms cupped his cheeks as you cradled his face in your hands and rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone. His lips moved in slow, passional synchronization to your own as you indulged in a moment of tender intimacy. For once, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, accepting you as his own. The world beyond the two of you didn't need to matter. Not anymore. Your hands slithered up his outfit to entangle in his hair. The feline-themed headband fell to the ground as your fingers tousled about, and you could taste his lipstick smearing onto your own lips. He tilted your head slightly to deepen the kiss and you oh so graciously accepted. The two of you kissed passionately for what felt like a heavenly eternity. When the kiss parted, the two of you were breathless, weighted in an atmosphere of requited fondness. Hitoshi’s breath intermingled with your own. His lips hovered against yours, as if waiting with bated breath for your next word. 

The silence was broken when he peered up at you and muttered against your lips, “You’re the first person to say that to me.”

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

“I’ll be the first and only one.”

He closed his eyes to indulge in the taste and feeling of your lips once more. You pulled away briefly, a mischievous glint sparkling in your eye.

“Now, then,” you cooed, “why don’t you meow for me, like the good little kitty that you are?”

Shinsou sighed. This time, he sighed in contentment, with a gentle smile gracing his lips.

“Meow.”

“Now purr for me!”

“Don't push your luck.”

[harkingspot]

why did mordecai shoot viktor?

i wish i knew BUT we can always do what every fandom does: SPECULATE!!!

i have seen a lot of people interpret this as a very messed up, angsty, “i shouldn’t have been so infatuated with you and now i need to deal with my repressed emotions” goodbye. i do love this interpretation. THE FACT MORDECAI WAS WILLING TO ACCEPT VIKTOR HATING HIM FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES IS SO EUGH… IT’S CHEF’S KISS

or, simply, they got into a very heated and violent argument which seems very plausible as well!

BUT HEAR ME OUT…

what if viktor actually knows mordecai than we think he does. and that mordecai shooting him in the knees was his way of saying:

“I’m leaving and don’t even think about trying to find me.”

[bruhstation]

of fucking course the best, most harrowing, most gut-wrenching tugs character only appeared in one episode (a bit of ramble in the tags)

[the--firevenus]

That one world quest with cassadee where we try to help her realize that her idolization of merlin maybe not for who he is as a person, but rather what merlin represent.. Which is magic itself....

Anyways, take that concept and put it to when young mirael when she was still merlin student. In a sense, her adoration for merlin appear the same to cassadee idolization for merlin, and once merlin had said to young mirael; "are you sure you're adoring me for who I am or are you adoring merlin?" and for the longest time mirael was so sure what she likes about her mentor IS for who that person really is, not the title he carries, not what he represent as a whole. Merlin was mirael dearest and she so sure of that, so sure she looked for her mentor for 20 years...

Then she meet her dearest again, except... He's different. no longer the same person she remembers (and he doesn't remembers her)

So once again came in the question... Is it merlin she adore, or her dearest "mentor"?

[teaitis]

That Gojo booklet...

[green-cinnamon-stick]

Louis De Pointe Du Lac: A Study on Memory

Okay this started off as me berating myself for watching "I Could Not Prevent It" before work. And devolved into revelations. So enjoy my sleep deprived ramblings. Spoilers ahead for S2.

Okay why the fuck did I watch this episode knowing I have a week of hell at work ahead of me? Because now I'm spiraling going through the tag on Twitter. There is SO much nuance added to Loustat. And after hours upon hours of the manipulation that is Loumand, to finally have Loustat again is driving me mad. Because we got them back but at what cost? This isn't them and because so much of Paris is laced with Armand, it's hard to tell what's real from what we think is real. Hell Armand said the very same. But I don't mean the obviously not real elements like the trial. I mean the times Lestat breaks character, but instead of adding to what Louis told us, it's almost a complete rewrite. Which brings into question how unstable Louis' mind actually is. Louis who is attentive and consistently praises Daniel for his memory. Daniel who is not a spring chicken and had a very serious drug addiction for almost a decade. The man whose memory shouldn't be as intact as it is. Why does he recall more than the vampire who's supposed to be better than humans. Yes time warps things but complete rewrites? Is Louis' brain and memory that fragile or is this more manipulation from Armand? Which also begs the question, how much is Armand doctoring Louis' memory? After the San Francisco episode they want us to believe if he can rewrite a week, he can do more. But what if he HASN'T done that much. What's Louis' actual mental decline and what's Armand? We also still have no explanation for Lestat outside of Louis potentially being schizophrenic...........holy shit I think I just answered my own question.

Schizophrenia is a genetic trait. I've been saying it's the trauma because I wrote off Paul as an anomaly in their family. But what if he's not? What if Louis' own schizophrenia was simply delayed BECAUSE of the vampirism. But time is catching up to him and the immortal blood can only do so much. "Law number 2: The Dark Gifts must never be given to the crippled." The law goes on to say it's because the gift should be bestowed on beauteous people as a laugh in the face of god. But time and time again we've heard it can't be given to children who are also considered crippled, because their brains can not handle it. It has nothing to do with beauty and everything to do with vampirism exacerbating issues. When Lestat made Louis he seemed of sound mind and body, and he was...because it hadn't started yet. And a vampire surviving brutal injuries in turn makes them stronger. Louis burns himself his first day. The fall was his first big recovery. Then the burning in SF. He's gotten stronger which keeps the decline at bay. But he's growing weaker living in that tomb of an apartment. Armand goes out but Louis stays home. Isolated.

He tried to break free with Daniel once. Here we are again and would you look at that...his memory is suddenly coming back clearer. Okay I need to sleep before I dig even deeper into whether or not I'm way off base or I've cracked the code.

[fellhellion]

sorry i need to expel the demon that is comicsverse thoughts from my head w a weirdly structured ramble ive been trying to articulate fdsjkfhkjds

-> miguel is initially alienated from his body post transformation - not just due to the nonconsensual nature of being spidered - but because he views the transformation as alienating him from a claim to humanity

-> however, the identity of spiderman and the ideals that represents seems to be in big part the means by which miguel reconciles himself to the nature of his physical body. not only do his abilities become naturalised to his understanding of himself as Miguel (rather than being thought of as alien) but they enable spiderman to be that force for good and change that miguel so desperately wants to see in himself

-> but miguel simultaneously depersonalises himself from his spiderman identity. he thinks of it as the better half of himself, as something almost ephemeral, that he doesn't quite have a claim to or is able to reconcile completely to Miguel The Human Being and all his associated baggage

-> and that's an interesting internal conflict to have when he simultaneously can never escape the lived reality of his own body and where it diverges from those around him, even as that lived reality eventually becomes something he can reconcile himself to far more easily

-> and what overhangs across this entire discussion is context of (and thus how Miguel would be influenced by) Nueva York's hypercapitalist society and thus the understanding and conception of your physical body in that lens. how much or little your body is owed by you yourself. the access you are told must be permitted to it by others/corporations. how the physical body is policed and politicised. the commodification of the body in the most literal sense via Vulture's cannibalism.

[irrelevantso]

Not thinking it through

My friend asked me to describe a good Ninjago ship, just before the pilot started (her first time watching the show.)

In a rush of stupidity, I blurted out "The son of God & a cameraman."

Needless to say, she turned off the TV.

[bleaksqueak]

Insomnia is letting up off and on, but I'm still super jelly brained from it case in point, I want to continue back with posting WIPs for the aired pages, but I can't remember what page I left off on now lmao (guess I'll have to dig through my blog to check... eesh. at least it's decently organized by tags?) Not a result of goo brain, really, but equally "AUGH" is that I let my screen protector go for too long without replacing it and now it's slick as snot and I don't have a replacement handy to put on it. This isn't a resulting consequence of goo brain but it does mean I'm going to be trying to draw without any traction while I'm already loopy. Good times ahead!

[acourtofquestions]

Possibly dumb fandom question of random nonsense: is Rowan vegetarian?

— If he isn’t… does that mean he eats all meat… including bird? … or is that cannibalism?😅😂

[wander-wren]

it’s 5am i have not slept i have a hot take

i see antis argue sometimes that you CAN portray “problematic” things in fiction, as long as you show they’re bad/don’t romanticize them.

first of all that’s super subjective. second of all.

have you ever read major character death. have you ever read hurt no comfort. have you ever read, like, mindbreak.

i’ve never seen anyone complain about a fic that is graphic torture and nothing else, or like, a mental health ventfic with a dark ending. and i think about that quite often, the different standard we have for sex.

yknow? it applies in other contexts too. have you ever noticed that when people argue fanfiction is a lesser form of writing or otherwise bad, they always bring up sex? “the odyssey vs your 200k destiel omegaverse mpreg” “the great gatsby vs your slowburn stucky hs au where the climax is a full chapter of smut”

it’s a trend i noticed. it exists outside of fanfic too! original fiction circles have this whole thing about not including sex scenes bc The Plot, or dismissing erotica as a less serious, or maybe just lesser, form of literature?

and maybe, just maybe, that’s bad. to some degree i think we put sex on too high of a pedestal. it’s just a thing people do. and, i dunno, i write a lot of angst and whump and what-have-you. i like exploring trauma and recovery, it’s literally a thread somewhere in 90% of what i write. maybe all of it, in some small capacity. i don’t have encyclopedic knowledge of my own work.

so i’m not directly affected by this, but i do think it’s hypocritical, and i do think it’s strange to impose limits. you can create, but only within these boundaries, defined arbitrarily by me. like, okay jan. sure.

[promise-you-doie]

how does brothers best friend sound? Slow burn, 30k words. (maybe that’s not slow burn but idccc) Fuck it i’m gonna do it.

[babsaros]

How did you know you were gay?

ah, couple reasons i guess. some that only became obvious with like 15 years of hindsight, and only after pulling myself out of the deep dark pit of compulsory heterosexuality.

like. classic symptoms of lesbianism include shamefully staring at the floor when you pass the women's underwear racks in the department store, even though you're not quite sure why you're uncomfortable. that sort of thing.

i have memories from early elementary school of accidentally glimpsing down a girl's shirt at recess and then bottling up that feeling and refusing to think about it. any time i had a crush on a boy, it was from an extremely idealized and safely non-actionable distance. the one time i did have a boyfriend, it was just my guy best friend from middle school, we dated for barely a school year before i ended it and the most physical intimacy i was ever comfortable with was holding his hand when we walked to class. i went to a different school's prom because a guy i was kind-of friends with asked me, and spent the whole night uncomfortably avoiding eye contact.

basically i started questioning my sexuality towards the end of high school, when i noticed myself getting like. jealous about my guy best friend's girlfriends?? like. i wanted to date them. i wanted to steal them from him lmao. i thought girls were pretty and soft and nice and cute and i was too afraid of being a predatory creep to do anything about it besides have far-fetched daydreams, but there was no heterosexual explanation. like, i hugged a girl i thought was pretty one time and it did things to my brain. that memory got locked in for life.

i identified as ace/pan early on, but again- compulsory heterosexuality. the idea of being with a guy romantically or sexually was never actually appealing. i had just been told that was what i was supposed to want my entire life, and the movies do a great job of selling that fantasy. but really i was just a lonely depressed helpless romantic teenager that wanted to be loved lol.

a large part of why i identified as asexual was because i was so sex-repulsed by the idea of penetration, honestly? (which i have since gotten over, but specifically Only with girls. the idea of having sex with a man still icks me out, and my preference is definitely femme-presenting ppl) a bit of it was probably also because i hadn't unpacked gender yet either. it made it very difficult to actually imagine myself having sex with anyone ever lol. this is gonna sound so cringe to say, but reading gay smut did awaken things in me.

in conclusion, tldr, i just like to think about tits and kissing women sometimes, idk. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[pirateborn-a]

Forever normal ab roger and his not-sons-yet-boys

[septembersghost]

me watching any piece of media ever made: how can i make the thesis here about the wondrous, fulfilling, frightening, destroying, restorative, glimmering thrall of, and tragic inevitability of grief within, any and every form of love?

elvis (2022): *very first thing we hear* oh, let our love survive... *later*: love song i've known since childhood used in a dark, ominous way and a desperately tender one: some things are meant to be. take my hand, take my whole life too, for i can't help falling in love... *later still*: it was love. *last*: i need your love...

ah. okay. so you just made my job too easy. i don't even have to search for it. thank you. guess i'll go insane.