#Why (Extended Version)

[smallenoughtopurr]

The so-called uncut version of Saw is evil af for cutting this out of the movie

Between half the dialogue and this extra bit of Lawrence caressing Adam and Adam leaning into it. The fact that we miss it in the unrated version that plays everywhere nowadays is sickening 😭

[va1kyr14]

Is it bad that watching the Caitvi Lesbian Sex scene is now an integral part of my daily routine.

Asking for a friend.

[konigbabe]

frosting of my cake

DAY 5 ⇢ Breeding Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader Word count: 1.2k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; breeding kink; manhandling; mating press Summary: You want a baby. Satoru is determined to give it to you. [Part of NSFW Gojo Week 2023]. Divider by @benkeibear [source].

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

"My last, third wish," you put up three fingers, "want a baby."

He looks at you in silence, not quite comprehending the request you've just made. Casual over the breakfast bowl in your hands, hair still all messy and tangled from sleep.

"I was thinking you'd say more of a food play when you said you got the idea when grabbing lunch with Shoko…or another threesome. Both would be acceptable."

But this...this was unexpected. You've surprised him for once, made him speechless.

"Is baby not acceptable," you query, setting your breakfast bowl on the kitchen island.

Satoru shakes his head quickly and puts his breakfast on the table. "No–god no," he moves to stand beside you, one of your hands in both of his. Yes, it might've been sudden, but Satoru can't deny his heart skipped a beat when your words reached his ears – body shaking with anticipation and excitement, mind already running ideas of how you could make a baby.

"It's acceptable. Of course–completely acceptable. Very sudden but that's it."

"So…do you want a baby with me?" you suddenly feel timid. Even though this conversation has been long overdue.

The question seems to linger in the air. You remain still, staring into his face. Waiting.

"I do–yeah," he exhales oppressively, squeezing your hands between his own in a reassuring manner as if he knows exactly what you're thinking without ever having to say a word.

And so you get to work.

You should've seen it in highsight–

Satoru's determination – no matter the cause – has always been unwavering. Perpetual and steadfast, he's committed to his goals regardless of the situation or objective, whether in the jujutsu world or your love life. And if it involved you, Satoru Gojo has become anthropocentric.

–so when those words left your mouth a few days ago, you should've been more aware of the consequences.

It's also the reason there's a calendar on his nightstand, today's date circled in red – ovulation.

And why your cries resonate through the dimly lit bedroom. Sheets sticking to your back, slick with your sweat as Satoru pivots his hips into your quelching cunt. Puffy and swollen; already leaking his release, creating sounds that would make your face burn with shame if it weren't for the pure greed in his hungry eyes..

"Satoru–," his name flows out of your mouth, head fuzzy and unable to comprehend no more, "agh–feels so good."

Satoru's hand settles on the dip of your knee, pushing the leg into your chest more as his chest presses against your legs.

"Fuck," his hips roll into you with fervor devotion, "squeezing me so tight."

Once more you utter his name in a shattered tone. Satoru's response an unsteady thrust of his hips. It makes your back to arch in his grasp, toes curling as he relentlessly batters that sweet spot that sends waves of ecstasy crashing over your senses.

His thumb brushes against your slick, swollen lips, and his kiss is a wild, intoxicating mess. Sloppy. Messy. Unhurried with languid strokes of his tongue against yours. An oasis in the storm; a brief reprieve from the intensity that throbs between your legs. Satoru's hand drifts to your breast, cupping it like a precious gem, as he slows down.

The pressure moves from your breast, trailing along the curve of your waist until it presses against your throbbing clit. Small, filthy noises escape from the back of his throat as his lips meld with yours; a satisfied hum that spreads through your body with each thrust he gives you.

"Ahg–I'm gonna cum, Satoru–"

A guttural moan rolls over his tongue, past your lips. A rumble of approval that makes your stomach flutter with glee.

Your limbs pinned, unable to do anything against the relaxation that overcomes your body. And in this position, even if you could move, you wouldn't. You savor the leisurely gliding thrusts, the euphoria and warmth flooding your veins, the sensation of his body covering yours and the breathless sound of his moans against your lips.

"I love you so much," it's barely above a whisper, lips brushing against your skin as you feel his mouth curve into a smile against your neck. Satoru's name tears from your lips, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder blades, legs straining painfully as he folds you in half.

It's your third time today and your second time in a row. A record for you. The sheer amount of energy you've expended almost unfathomable. A few minutes of rest to catch your breath is all it takes to has Satoru all hot and bothered again.

His name a constant thread beneath your breathless lips, heart racing so fervently that it threatens to burst from your chest before it's pulled back into your throat.

"Fuck–fuck–love you s'much," he babbles, feeling your pussy flutter around him. helpless to resist the temptation as your slick warmth pulls him in again and again–

The white stars in his eyes have always been mesmerizing but when he's close – about to blow – you've never seen anything more stunning.

–milking him dry when he reaches yet another climax.

(Fourth, you think. But given the passage of time, you wouldn't be surprised if it was even more.)

Satoru waits until you calm down, limp and pliant in his arms, before he lays a palm over your abdomen.

"I think we need more."

Satoru stretches his muscles as he rolls onto his back, his arm extending beneath the bed. Fumbling around in the dim light, searching until his fingers close around a thin, lightweight book. The image of a newborn on the cover already gives away the content, so it comes as no surprise when you read the title: BABY MAKING 101.

With an almost magical swiftness, Satoru produces a pen from somewhere and flips the publication open to its last page. You watch as he scribbles inside for a moment, his actions causing a curious intrigue to build within you until you can't help but ask, "What is that?"

He glances at you, his cheeks still sporting a faint pinkish hue. "A book. It has a list of all the best positions for breeding. Look, "and he turns the open page toward you, revealing a bulleted list of various positions—missionary, reverse cowgirl, wheelbarrow, waterfall, mating press—some of which you've never heard of before.

You raise an eyebrow and notice that some of the positions have a star drawn next to them. "Should I be asking why some of them have a star next to them?"

Satoru grins mischievously, and the tip of his pen clicks against the word "lotus" on the page. "For future reference," he says playfully. "My personal favorites."

You can't help but chuckle before he continues, "It even has tips and research on how to make babies."

"I'm pretty sure I know how babies are made."

[ahsokalegend]

Final results from Return of the King: I can not emphasize enough how much my roommates love a one Samwise Gamgee, MVP of Lord of the Rings

One of my favorite quotes being “YES! PERIOD! GET HIM!!” when Sam beats up Gollum. They adore Sam and he deserves all the hype

[teh-nos]

when i realised the reason loki is so good at manipulating thor could well be that he's been taught how to do it, likely by frigga whose own job is "talk the king down and/or egg him on"

[existingingrey]

백공죽 Extended Version

[beevean]

I feel in a very generous mood, and after I talked about how much Lenore fails as a character, I wanted to for once praise the few times when she was pretty well written for who she was meant to be, a professional abuser, liar and manipulator with excellent strategies to make Hector lower his guard. All of these scenes happen in S3E6, for some reason: before and after, she's actually rather sloppy and in your face, and only succeeds because Hector was lobotomized by the writer lol. But this episde is what I mean when I say she had potential.

First, the part where Lenore "offers" the leash:

Lenore: Now then, would you like to go for a walk? Bit of fresh air in the starlight? Hector: I think I would, yes. Lenore: Good. Sadly, there's a condition. *shows leash* Hector: Oh. Lenore: Not my idea. Striga insisted. It should be quite comfortable. She just wanted a little extra security. Hector: You're ten times stronger than I am, Lenore. Lenore: Striga pointed out that you're a magician. And you do want to go for a walk, so… would you mind?

So.

Lenore kickstarts the episode with some fresh humiliation, because she has no time to waste. She jokes that Hector is now walking "on his hind legs" and looks "almost human", jokes again that she dressed up Hector so that his dick won't be stolen by birds, and asks him to smile in the face of his embarrassment like a creepy old man harassing a waitress.

This is the prelude to her downright falling into sexual abuse, which is this entire part.

The request is obviously unfair. Hector has been cooped up in his stagnant cell for what could be weeks, so it's only natural that he would enjoy some fresh air. But in order to get that basic comfort, Hector has to accept being treated like a literal dog for no good reason. And his braincell does activate for a moment, as he points out that yes, there is no good reason to force a leash on him, because Lenore sure showed him how strong and fast she is:

There is no way Hector would even attempt to run away, not when he has no tools at his disposal, he's starved and weakened, the castle is full of other vampires, and Lenore could snap his ankles in a second Annie Wilkes style.

But Lenore is undeterred. First, she says that it was Striga's idea. It's still ambiguous if she was sincere or not: Striga couldn't give less of a fuck about Hector and shows no reaction when, later in the episode, she sees the two on the balcony. That being said, the fact that she is the one complaining, in E8, that Lenore is taking Hector "on fucking walkies" implies that yes, Lenore lied and mentioned the queen who was less likely to bother Hector. As a bonus, she doesn't blame Carmilla, despite her being the first one who put Hector on a leash as he himself points out later on, therefore creating a precedent, because Hector already has beef with Carmilla, and Lenore is aiming to make him get over his resentment. Hence, the name of a vampire he does not care about. (although, logically, Morana would have been better because Striga will have to work closer to Hector once he starts to supply an army, but eh, I guess even Lenore forgot about her lol)

But whoever had the idea doesn't matter, actually. What matters is that Lenore is shifting the blame on someone else. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I wouldn't do this to you, but I'm a poor little girl and I had no choice 🥺 blame her, not me, I'm just the cute princess obeying superior orders 🥺". And since Hector doesn't know Striga at all, and she has no intention of talking to him, he can believe that. She also subtly blames Hector, because well, he wanted to go on a walk, and she's just giving him what he wanted! He should be grateful, really!

Naturally, this excuse falls flat on its face because even if Striga was the one who suggested the leash for "extra security", it's Lenore who decided to make a sexual game out of it. She is the one who has expressed multiple times her attraction to Hector, first by kissing him after beating him to a pulp, and then by playing some more "genuine" compliments during the interrogation - as genuine as they can be after she spent the entire interrogation making him realize how much of a dumbass he was. She didn't need to do any of this. She's having fun for her own amusement, lording her power over Hector.

(mhh, Lenore using sexual abuse for no reason? It's almost like it's a pattern :) it's almost like being a rapist is in her character :) )

On top of this, notice how hypocritical she's being. Lenore is often treated as inferior to the other three, like she's just a silly girl sitting among adults and not one of the important queens. She clearly resents this, to the point of, as linked above, beating Hector to a pulp when he too underestimated her. But here? She'll gladly pretend Striga is her superior and he has no other choice but to comply with her request. Now that it's convenient to her, she'll happily play the part of the powerless little princess in a den of evil queens :)

But she's not done! Because at Hector's "You're ten times stronger than I am", Lenore retorts (again blaming Striga, because she has to look blameless) that he's a magician. This is a profoundly stupid excuse because Hector is not a magician, he's a Forgemaster who can't do shit without a forging tool: if he were a "magician" like, say, Sypha or the one who brainwashed an entire village, Lenore would already be a pile of ashes. But again, logic doesn't matter: what matters is that Hector is painted like the real threat to Lenore, the one who has the power to hurt her and not the other way around. See, she's just trying to protect herself from the mean Forgemaster, poor thing! This comes into play later.

Now, were Hector a stubborn person who valued his own dignity, this would be the moment where he'd show Lenore the middle finger and resign himself to staying in the stagnant cell. But Hector is not stubborn. Hector doesn't care about his own dignity and honor: he wants to feel safe and cared for. Plus, Lenore has already beaten him at the first sign of defiance: how does he know that she wouldn't punish him again if he refused her proposal? Even just by taking away the few "gifts" she had given him. So, powerless and too weakened to put up a mental fight, he caves in, because he's willing to give away his humanity for a few minutes of comfort and pretending Lenore is taking care of him.

Before I move on, I need to point out the half-clever, half-frustrating ironic echo the "magician" line gets in S4E6 that almost redeems it:

This is what in a vacuum I would call a big dick move lol. How delightfully sassy it is for Hector, after getting his heart broken and biding his time by coddling his abuser's feelings, to throw Lenore's excuses back in her face to put her in a position of helplessness! Oh, he can't be trusted because of his powers, and that was the reason he was treated like a dog and had a slave ring brute forced onto his hand when he would have willingly agreed to becoming Lenore's pet? Well, then Lenore was a giant idiot for trusting him after raping him into slavery and believing he would be harmless and happy with her, right? :)

(it would have been better if they used the exact word again, but whatever, nitpick)

Sadly I can't be fully happy with this scene because, despite his satisfied smirk shown here, Hector isn't really getting back at Lenore for the disgusting way she treated him, but he's instead trying his best to protect her with no malice in his heart, as shown when Isaac arrives and as shown by how he apologizes before trapping her. The parallel between Lenore "protecting" Hector by ruining his life because of her selfishness and Hector returning the favor is obvious, but it's as unsatisfying as possible, because by now the story wants us to feel sorry for Lenore, and Hector's gesture is meant to be tragic, not the rightful comeuppance. Also, due to how wishy-washy the worldbuilding is, I really can't tell if Hector deliberately used the wrong word as a reference to make Lenore really feel bad for her past actions (unlikely, given how he forgave her of everything, but a girl can dream), or if he's seriously calling himself a wizard, which even in the context of the show is very wrong and would be yet another way the animated franchise has watered down the concept of Devil Forging.

That being said, I can ignore the rest of the episode and pretend Hector was being snarky against his abuser 💖 I don't care if it's OOC and it's not like Hector to be this spiteful 💖 go king 💖

After this digression, back to S3E6, before Lenore became a woobie love interest and was still a vile manipulator.

I talked about this scene here, and mostly said that it was wasted potential for Lenore's final act in S4 for multiple reasons. But, for the purpose of this post, it is another nice attempt at manipulation, even if it's a basic "look how nice this place is! You'll enjoy it every night if you'll work for us!". Symbolically, it could be seen as Lenore dragging Hector away from humanity and towards the world of vampires... which would be poignant if Hector didn't start already as someone who turned his back against mankind in favor of vampires and hasn't budged from his beliefs. But eh, I get the idea, and it can be seen as foreshadowing to Lenore allowing Hector free roam of the castle once he becomes her pet. It sure is a nice gilded cage, isn't it?

Then, we have the scene on the balcony:

Lenore: Does it hurt? Hector: No. It just reminds me of the last time someone put a collar on me. Lenore: In Braila? Hector: When Carmilla almost killed me. Lenore: Well, she does have a temper. But she would never have meant to kill you. Hector: No. Because she needs me to be her forgemaster slave. Lenore: No, because if she'd meant to kill you, you would quite simply be dead. Hector: Hmph. Lenore: And if she'd meant to torture you, you would have arrived here carrying your guts in both hands with a spike up your arse. Hector: I suppose that's true. I mean, I can see her doing it. In nightmares and such. Lenore: She does have a temper, but she's logical. She never lets it run away with her to the point of, oh, I don't know, condemning the entire human race to death? Just a recent example of what being genuinely insane with murderous rage looks like. Hector: All right. Lenore: You may not have been treated like a boy king on your way here, but you did show up alive. Hector: Might have been nice, though. Lenore: Have you considered that you're only alive because you listened to Carmilla back in Dracula's castle? Hector: I hadn't. She tricked me. Lenore: I don't think she did. I think she made complete sense to you, and you felt guilty, understandably, about how it all played out. Hector: She made me betray Dracula. Lenore: No, she didn't. She showed you the old man was insane, and she saved you from the consequences. Nobody here wants to harm you. We just don't quite trust you yet. Hector: Trust me? Lenore: You did try to hurt me, Hector.

I still don't know why I can't find a clip of this part. With how crucial it is to their development (and you know, shippers would get a kick out of seeing the peggable boy leashed by the dommy mommy having a cute bonding moment), you'd think there'd be plenty of videos.

Nevertheless, this is the only time Lenore disgusted me in an intentional way, which I appreciate. His character development on stall, Hector has no moral qualms about working for vampires who want to turn humans into livestock, but he is still angry at Carmilla for tricking, beating and imprisoning him, understandably so. She is the only reason Hector still hasn't accepted Lenore's proposal: he doesn't want to work for her out of spite. So what does Lenore do with her amazing diplomacy skills? Launch herself into some pristine abuse apologism, the likes of which are only paralleled by Lenore stans themselves, using every excuse in the book to downplay Carmilla's brutal, sadistic beatdown of Hector, because oh, she just has a temper! Oh, it was just a one time thing! Oh, she saved your life nonetheless, even if you were treated less than royally! Oh, but Dracula was even more insane, so you can't be mad at Carmilla, she was just trying to help!

She's hitting every point possible to make Hector give up his grudge, because who cares about how he was treated, he's alive now, right? He should be grateful that he was "rescued" from Dracula's insanity, shouldn't he? Which is very similar to Lenore's overall attitude, like when she lowkey implied that she was the only one in the castle willing to treat Hector nicely after brutally beating him into submission :)

And as the cherry on top, she is blaming him for that, too! Hector tried to hurt her, the meanie, so really, no wonder he's being treated like a dog! No one wants to hurt him, she swears, it's just that these four super strong vampires are scared of this human prisoner! And if Lenore beat him to a pulp the other day (not that she is directly mentioning it, of course, the accent is on how he tried to hurt her), well, it's all his fault, so he can't complain. Mhh, reminds me of another scene where Lenore downplays her disgusting actions by shaming Hector...

Goodness, but Lenore must have gotten a degree in abuse apologism with flying colors! Look at that flawless DARVO! She would be a brilliant portrayal of a self-centered piece of shit who refuses to take responsibility, if I knew it was all intentional!

I also like that, near the end, when she's rebuking Hector's protests, for once she doesn't sound insufferably smug, but like she is patiently correcting a stubborn child making him reason. This is much better than her usual tone of voice that can only be described as "I get wet at seeing you humiliated", and not just because it's less grating on the ears: she is supposed to sound trustworthy and well-meaning, emotionally comforting Hector and not making fun of him. This is the tone she should have had from day one. It also would have helped distinguishing her and not making her sound like Carmilla 2.0, BDSM patch included.

The rest of the sequence speaks for itself. Lenore gives Hector a bigger cell (with added symbolism of her tugging his leash to lead him to it, showing that she is forcing all these comforts on him), complete with a book about vampires that he might find interesting, and engages in yet some more sexual play by removing the collar in the most erotic way possible for the joy of the shippers and the thirsty fans. But I want to focus on two things.

One, the book.

When it came to convincing Hector that nighttime is better than daytime, thus the vampire world is better than the human world, I said it was redundant because Hector already feels closer to the former than the latter. This, however, is a much better way to lure him in: Lenore is welcoming Hector even further in their world - or rather, her world. She is sharing their knowledge, the secret knowledge lost by humans and preserved by vampires, much like when during their walk she flaunted the castle's hypocaust that keeps the cells warm ignore that it's normally kept lit by slaves, giving us some unintentionally clever foreshadowing. In E8, Hector is genuinely fascinated by it:

Lenore's strategy of "humanizing" her race, and thus herself and the council so that Hector won't be scared, is pretty obvious but efficient. It's a shame that it's redundant because Hector has no prejudices, nor has he shown any, against vampires (because that would have created conflict between him and Lenore's plan): but hey, better be safe than sorry, right? In a way, it's a continuation of Lenore's abuse apologism, when she tried her best to paint Carmilla as a logical person "with a temper", and not as a violent beast to be scared of. "I keep telling you, we're not monsters." Because if we act like monsters, it doesn't come natural to us, the civilized species that we are, so you must have done something to provoke it :)

Most importantly, this really hits one of Hector's weakest spots: feeling appreciated for his talents. It's all but said that the reason he feels more comfortable around vampires is because they mostly value him for his Devil Forging and necromancy, unlike humans who chased him away for that. For a human being who feels no connection to mankind, being offered a peek into vampire culture must have felt a honor.

Lenore giving him that book "given his profession" shows that she's meeting him on his level, and she doesn't simply see him as a tool like Carmilla, but someone whose blasphemous knowledge is respectable and worth nurturing. She didn't need to do that: Hector is already a genius in Devil Forging, so it's not for him to study to become more efficient. But it's basically a kind gift based on his interests.

But the really brilliant line is this one:

The levels of mindfuckery here!

Lenore coerced Hector into wearing a dog collar and leash for the simple purpose of walking around, making him feel like it was his fault he had to be treated that way, and all for the purpose of gaslighting him into forgiving Carmilla for hurting him. And after that gratuituous display of power over him, she is acting like they just went on a date and she is sheepishly asking permission for another one. (There is no clip, but the tone sounds soft and honestly grateful, too, like he's really doing her a favor.)

This is the exact same strategy of blaming Striga for the leash. She's passing the responsibility onto someone else: Hector, in this case. Lenore is pretending Hector has any power over their encounters. She's just a poor girl who wants to spend quality time with him, but she would never intrude upon his space without permission 🥺 even thought she just literally did by nearly kissing him while taking away the collar before he could ever express any interest in her 🥺 no, really, she leaves the choice up to him 🥺 (so that everything that follows will be his fault, obviously)

But Lenore doesn't just delude Hector into feeling like he has control right after stripping it from him: the point is, naturally, making him feel wanted. Not just as a thing to play with, because otherwise Lenore can just visit him whenever she pleases, but as a person worthy of respect. She likes spending time with him, and she demurely asks if he too wants to see her - and after popping a boner after her little stunt being lovebombed like that, of course Hector can't say no. Not after feeling genuinely cared for as a person, his biggest weak point.

How nice, after their rough start, they're finally developing a relationship of equality and respect despite their circumstances!

This is what Lenore should have been since the beginning. Wearing the mask of the demure little girl whom others make fun of, who is completely harmless (unless the other person deserves it), really, her hands are tied but she always tries her best, look at her gifts made from her pure kindness of heart! And subtly but constantly snipering at Hector's heart, sensing the chinks in his armor and pouncing on them like only a consummate liar and inherent predator can do. Not smugness, not humiliation, not sexual molestation: the believable lie of love and affection, targeted to someone who would sell his soul to taste those crumbs.

Or worse, the other interpretation is that this isn't even malicious lying at all. Now sure, Lenore can't spend one second in S3 without that obnoxious smirk on her face because she's just enjoying so much taking advantage of the power she has over her prisoner, and sure, I have proof that the ring was a pointless act of cruelty that nullifies all her hard work... but who says every word out of her mouth is a lie meant to harm and psychologically break Hector? Maybe it's just 90% of them! Maybe she's genuine when she shows attraction to Hector, and compliments him, and is happy when gets "permission" to see her again because it also makes her feel wanted (after all, Lenore's priority is feeling good about herself). Maybe she does care about him and she was earnest when she tried to "comfort" Hector after raping him into slavery - oh, my bad, into a position of pet... problem is that she is still a vampire, who cannot conceptualize love as humans do, and sees relationships as inherently unbalanced where she is the one where she has to have all the power. And she's willing to do whatever it takes to gain it, say every lie that comes to her fangs, twist every word, shift every ounce of blame, as long as it's for her pet's own good. Because that's what vampires do.

It's a shame those are the only instances Lenore is well written as a villain, because man, the depths of the realistic, relatable horror displayed in one episode are staggering and well conveyed. And most of this behavior is still carried into S4! ... completely by accident, which ignites my fury like few things.

She could have been a great, viscerally repulsive villain and an accurate depiction of an abuser who truly thinks she's in the right, and not just mere masturbation fodder. Now, if only Hector was written with more spine than a beached jellyfish...

[moveslikekeithrichards]

do you ever watch a movie & think "i woulda been obsessed with this as a kid." thats how i feel about needful things (1993)

[devilsrecreation]

trick or treat!!! /np, nf again!... if i'm allowed to do this twice?

I don’t see any reason why you’re NOT allowed to do it twice!

Spinny, you know my hc where Nduli finally calls Kiburi out on every bad thing he’s done? Well….

Something inside Nduli’s brain snapped the moment those words came out. His claws dug into the ground, a snarl escaping from his mouth as his eyes narrowed. All the negative thoughts that were once spiraling deep inside his brain suddenly jumped out all at once.

“That’s it!”

The rest of his float turned towards Nduli shocked of his unexpected tone.

“I’ve had it with you and your attitude! Ever since this morning, you’ve been so mean to everyone! Whenever any of us do something wrong, you’re just so cold! I’d get it if it were still the Dry Season cuz it makes us moody, but it’s over! Now, you’re just tearing us down for no reason!”

Kiburi scoffed, “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you actually did something right!”

“And that’s another thing! You’re being too hard on everyone lately! We’re all trying really hard to make you happy, but it’s NEVER good enough!” Nduli’s voice softened into a more concerned tone, “And you’re hard on yourself, too! Like you don’t stop sparring until you’re about to pass out and it ain’t good for you! Whatever’s going on, you can tell us!”

“I told you, stop worrying about me.” Kiburi replied, firmly, “Why do you always have to be on my back all the time?!”

“Why do you always have to push everyone away when they’re just trying to be there for you?!”

Absolute silence.

It was like all of Africa had stopped moving around them. Any sounds of their environment had now quieted down. No one spoke a word, not even Tamka—the most talkative one of the float. He and Neema merely exchanged glances, not daring to even breathe. Wakali cowered a bit but kept her eyes locked on her father and uncle. Kiburi had reared his head back, while the rest of his body was frozen. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Nduli continued,

“First it was Makuu, then your own sister, and now you’re doing it to us! All we want to do is support you when you need it the most! Because that’s what friends do, they care about each other! But no, all you ever do is push away anybody who wants to help! Whenever we try to talk to you, you just say you’re fine and you wanna be left alone! But you’re not fine and we know it! You don’t even wanna hang out with us anymore, not even when you have nothin’ to do! You’re always saying that you’re tired or you don’t feel like it or you wanna be alone. It’s always about YOU and what YOU want, but you don’t even think about any of us anymore!” Nduli took a step towards Kiburi. “YOU didn’t listen to Makuu when we woke up in the Dry Season, YOU challenged Makuu to a mashindano cuz YOU didn’t like the new watering hole we got! YOU wanted us to take down Simba and YOU got us banished from the Pridelands! Just admit it, everything that happened that day was YOUR fault! We had a good home and everything except you blew it cuz you don’t care about anyone but yourself!”

Nduli was left breathing heavily by the end of his rant. His eyes now seemed to be a bit misty, but still glaring daggers at his leader. Kiburi could only blink in disbelief with his mouth slightly agape. Things were quiet again until Nduli eventually caught his breath and spoke again,

“You can find your own way home, Kiburi. I’m done…”

[rillabrooke]

currently watching the fellowship of the ring for the first time and i am tickled pink by the incredulous delivery of "they have a cave troll"

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 8

Majora('s Mask)

*throws bouquet of roses* For the Time lovers.

Also my bias is probably coming through really strongly right now, but I'm not well rested enough to care plus I've been playing Majora's Mask a lot again this month, it's as important to me as Twilight Princess so this is kind of my love letter to it and Time and my excuse to explore the concept of Majora and the Fierce Deity and divinity in LoZ, though that's an essay for another day lol (/j)

As always can be read as romantic or platonic depending on your preferences, Reader is gender neutral and this is definitely self indulgent so it can be read in or outside of an LU context, most of the references to the LU names are for simplicity and to give a rough idea of why Reader has some stuff they do. Makes it easier to clarify lol, though as I've been hit by yet another storm the Linktober prompt will be for tomorrow, I'm basically picking a god and praying this actually posts X_X

TW(?):

Don't think there's any warnings besides MJM's typical body horror really, and very graphic descriptions and Majora in general.

Even after so, so long, so much so it feels like a lifetime ago, Termina still stuck with you and Time.

The thing about being in a timeloop that went on for who knows how long and whose failure to reset it would be total destruction to so many good different people, is that you quickly learn some habits to try and maximize as many successes as possible, how Time (Mask, then, after the living nightmare of Termina, during the War of Ages, still Link though) quickly learned the location of each enemy he could, how you learned to call out the best way to quickly assess and take down an enemy as quickly as possible, how you both learned to watch each other’s backs and to care for the people and Termina to the point Link went from just a warrior to a healer, granted the trust of holding the crystalization of the hopes and dreams of the people of Termina that, even if they couldn’t remember it, wanted the cycle to end, wanted to hunt the threat to reality itself and purge it from the world. To bite down onto it’s neck and feel the thrill and glee and cutting down such an opponent.

Most importantly, after bleeding, crying, sweating and toiling against the unrelenting flow of time and insanity all brought upon by a lonely child being left alone and manipulated to commit heinous acts as ‘pranks’. It taught you and Time the importance of contingency plans, and about always, always being prepared for any and all situations, unlikely as they could be. Of taking through note of even the smallest detail that caught your eyes at a glance.

‘To defeat an abomination, you need one of two things: A deity, or a monster.’, you think cynically to yourself, stepping over Time’s fallen form as Warriors bolted over with blizzard forged fury in his cold, calculated movements to defend him in your stead as you called Hyrule over, the young man quickly starting to heal your Hero as you glare down at the disgusting stain on reality engaging Twilight and Wild all at once, gleeful at having watched the person you adored the most fall, bringing out the ultimate contingency from your cloak, you hadn’t even told him about it, because you prayed you’d never need to resort to this, ‘… Forgive me, Link. The first option isn’t doable here.’

Time was your everything, you knew how his story ended, with so much grief until he finally met Twilight again. You tried, you really did, to not allow yourself to love him but it was impossible because he was Link, the man who longed for adventure ever since he was young, embodying the freedom of the forest of life and death that made up the whole of Faron Woods and the Lost Woods and as steady as it’s moors, voice quiet and calm like a stream in the woods and with and with a smile to rival the warm sun and so, so heartbreakingly kind. Who protected and saved and healed people while slowly healing his own soul and who attempted to soothe his descendant’s pain the second he could even from beyond the grave.

And you’d be darned if you allowed anything to take him from you or the boys before his time without a fight. You couldn’t care less if he would eventually die as he was destined to in every timeline, it didn’t matter if it was futile, because he mattered, you loved him, and you’d keep him safe and happy for as long as you could.

It didn’t matter if one day tragedy will catch up to him, it mattered that he was loved while alive.

Even if you had to step on fire to make sure of it.

“Twilight, Wild. Step away.”, the edges of the spikes of the purple and crimson mask that haunted your nightmares as much as it did Time’s, it leered at you with it’s arsenic and pus eyes, picking apart at your weaknesses as it’s spikes dug into your hand as you tightened your grip to keep if from shaking. Tone falsely confident as you called to the Hero of Twilight and Wild to retreat.

(‘To defeat an abomination, you need a deity or a monster.’

The definition is awfully interchangeable, if you look at it.

You had found it, abandoned and in a dungeon Wind’s Era, not quite awake, but not asleep either. The eldritch hunger almost chocking you with it’s voracity, the darkness assessing, stalking, prowling and starving, it prodded at you but didn’t dig yet. It knew how to play the long game in it’s quest to stop feeling empty.

Funny thing is, so did you. You were a lot harder to break than the Skull Kid, would not break.

Majora wanted to cease, like how it had ceased before the Terminan Tribe ripped it from it’s slumber, taught it hunger, taught it cruelty, taught it how to manipulate and take amusement in consuming the wishes of mortals and their very souls only to never be satisfied. Had fueled it with wrath from being ripped from a lovely, endless dream of beautiful songs and a kind soul. To be torn from it’s fantasy and then left to rot.

You offered to grant it a proper rest. And so a deal was struck. Your one contingency if the situation was truly dire, in case you couldn’t get the Fierce Deity Mask instead -because you knew how Link was, he’d burn himself out until there was naught but ash. You refused to let it ever come to that, after his excruciating screams of pain had clawed an aching, hurtful place into your very soul-, and Majora was starving and desperate, a dangerous combination for any being but something you could use.

So be it, if to protect divinity you needed to become a monstrosity, a monster was what you’d be.

You’d keep him safe. And you knew that if the Fierce Deity put him down once, he could do it again in case you slipped. Between him and Sky you weren’t afraid at all of the risk.

Even if Time never forgave you for taking it.)

You smile bitterly, tearing up in spite of yourself as you see the second Time spots you and the cursed artifact in hand, eye wide, voice ripping from his throat in desperation, “I’m quite selfish, I’m sorry.”

His haunted expression cuts you deeper than any knife, as you knew it was an image that featured in many of your nightmares and his own. But you’re insatiable for his happiness, so you take the plunge.

“NO NO NO NO DON’T-“

You put on the mask, and you scream.

It’s like stepping on fire, a twisted, desperate tune, a note of discord, a belt of harmony and fury and most importantly, the mighty need to consume the one who had tried to take the one you loved away from you.

Defy death, defy entropy, defy chaos, defy flame and voracity.

You cling to your self control with a snarl, howling in defiance. Sinking your nails into the abyss’ throat and biting, tearing, holding, tasting rot and withered flowers and the writhing of shadows and the blood of distorted gluttonousdivinity on your tongue with savagery equal to the way the demon sinks it's spikes onto you. Chew on it’s tender, rotting flesh, quaff down the lukewarm pus of it’s heart and the rust of blood as it bites off your skin, stripping your mind into chunks as it nests into your ribs like the spikes of wild, dead roses when it finds your mind tougher to break and you BURN YOU ARE LIFE YOU ARE CHAOS AND YOU ARE DROWNING AND YOU ARE FLAME-

You move, and Majora’s laugh sounds like a scream and a song as reality howls.

Your bones, sinew, muscles, nerves, veins and teeth are reformed, the being pounces, dancing, swerving, whipping, cleaving, ripping and feeding into the monsters with putrid, revolting gusto. Whenever it’s attention even tries to waver towards the Heroes you sink your hold in harder, stubborn, you’re sure there’s blood dripping from your mouth beneath the mask, your eyes, your ears, as it reaches a crescendo of glee and pain. A human body isn’t meant to hold so much divinity at once, much less as wretched and horrific as Majora’s, but you don’t care, can’t care, when you’re holding onto yourself like a vice, refusing to give it even a single inch.

It doesn’t kill Dark Link, the bastard (the one who’d hurt Time, the one who would have finished him off if not for you and Warriors). But the screech the Shadow releases as it gets ripped to shreds and the ripple of it’s retreating form is enough to make you partially agree with Majora’s vicious, amused glee that it was satisfying. Even if the feeling of you allowing it to utilize your skin temporarily felt revolting and disgusting in a way it made you wish you were actually on fire, not just in so much pain in a metaphysical level that it sure rivaled being set on fire, frost burned and lightning struck all in one go.

All is still now, all is silent.

Now comes the difficult part.

'Are you quite sure?', whispers Majora, crooning like nails on chalkboards, and it’s spikes sink into you tighter when you grip the sides of it, teeth gritted as you start prying it out of your face, amused by your defiance, but no longer as hungry. You did allow it quite the meal, you bet nothing like fellow divinity tastes better to the being, like the taste of a forbidden fruit you were going to be unfortunately acquainted given you’re sure Dark Link’s blood is on your teeth.

'Yes.' comes your faint response, as your sanity frays in fragile threads, you think someone calls your name, but you are drowning, you are burning, and you know that if you don’t focus it will break you. And you’d be fully dead before you let that happen. If you’re going to die you’re going to die as a human.

'Tou are so, so cold… So cruel.' It drawls, the demon’s voice like the gnawing of rats, like maggots under you skin, you convulse, falling to your knees with a wounded keen and pull harder, you barely noticed someone falling by your side, frantically calling your name, but the mask’s eyes dim to an outsider’s perspective, resigned as it hums dreamily, 'I suppose that’s why The Divine Hunter cares for you so, why it’s vessel’s claim is so strong.'

Good, you were banking on it being sleepy, after gorging yourself on the enemy of your boys, Hylia’s gash and Din’s assets your mouth is going to taste putrid for months isn’t it?

Majora hisses, growls, howls and screeches, a brush against your essence as it retreats. Unwinding from every single cell of your body, distorting your atoms back to their proper shape. It still hurts, buy it’s more bearable, although you quickly notice you’re chocking on a different form of Divinity, more possessive, more wild but just as old and ferocious as it snaps at the retreating heels of the twisted, chaotic thorns. Making reality remember your own shape quicker at the cost of filling every crack consumed by the demon.

You swear that thing is smiling smugly at something else, teeth bared and very entertained, taking the suffering of the people of Termina and the cold revulsion in your veins with it as it retreats with it's cacaphony of voices to the shade, 'A shame. Feasting more would be delightful, but very well. We trust that though you hurt today, tomorrow you’ll make sure we head on our way.'

You don’t have the mind or heart to say anything else to it, for it grows silent as the spikes rip from the sides of your face, you bite of a tortured yell as the spikes rip off chunks of skin and flesh, clawing at the ground with, thankfully, soothing, perfectly regular fingers and nails, albeit cracked, you feel someone take their hand in yours, and you crack open an eye, carefully aware of the blood dripping down your face from the half removal of the heart shaped mask and the thrum of thunder replacing the cold in your veins with boiling, protective warmth.

Time.

“You shouldn’t be up already.”, you rasp, looking over his wounded form, healed by Hyrule, you shakily take your left hand to keep prying at the Majora’s Mask, only for him to take it gently in yours, you taste blood, the petrichor of the Lost Woods mist and pine on the back of your mouth, chasing the rot of Majora away.

“It’s nothing, we both know I’ve had worse.” He says, firmly shaking his head. His scarred eye is open, ivory like bone, the markings more vibrant and prominent with the ferocity of a god, he looks tired, and you attempt to speak, to apologize, to voice your worry because you knew channeling the deity without a conduit was a bad idea, before coughing, shaking from the aftermath of your reckless, reckless plan.

(You unfortunately can’t say you regret it much, though, when you silently bear the combined brunt of Time and Fierce Deity’s care once you reach camp and the protective way they act towards you. Even though Majora is long gone much to your resigned exasperation, and the rest of your boys amusement, but that is for much, much later.)

Time gently hums, it rings through you like thunder as he holds you close, tapping your neck in a rhythm you could recognize in your sleep for when he was about to pull arrows, blades or shrapnel from your skin, or was ready to have it done to himself, you immediately loosen yourself as much as possible, gripping his hand tightly as he rips the rest of the Majora’s Mask off, inert and lifeless as when you’ve both woke up from a new day, he holds you close as you try to breathe, reassuring himself you’re still here, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Please.” He pleads, begs, prays. He can't lose you too.

And you can’t help it, you smile as you cry crimson and russet tones from your eyes, holding him back as close as you dare to. He doesn’t hate you, you’re sure you’re going to soon participate in the argument of a lifetime. But Link doesn’t hate you, doesn’t see you as a monster any more than you could ever see him as anything but the kind companion you always knew.

So you let yourself nod, helpless to say no to him for anything really. And allow yourself to breathe, you’re both going to be alright.

[sawvhs]

that is not what extended means

[rastronomicals]

3:40 PM EDT April 22, 2025:

Uriah Heep - "Why (Extended Version)" From the album Demons and Wizards (May 19, 1972)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

From the 2003 Expanded CD reissue.

[601billionlazer]

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a beh I'm a bender. I bend girders.

[catboygirljoker]

i don't go to kingdomed hearts. but xiggy bardust strikes me as a campy retail worker who's been at the job for 18 years and knows about all his coworkers' marital issues. he gives off the impression of being a grumpy cunt but he'll cover your week one fuckup without hesitation & show you the lever on the soda machine to get free drinks

100000000000% TRUE this ask was fact checked by real xigbar scholars. literally defined by knowing everything about everyone's shit. spying on everyone. his japanese catchphrase is a reference to this as a pillar of his personality. he heard it from someone who heard it from someone. in the manga he reads gossip magazines

also i have 1 trillion thoughts about "xigbar is a dick but less of a dick than the fandom makes him out to be" but i'll keep it short. in 358/2 days, he acts like a dick to roxas but definitely in a way that reads more to me as "goofy weird uncle" than actual cruelty. dad on a road trip vibes. there are multiple cutscenes where he saves roxas's hide. he is also the only one of the top 3 highest ranking Organization members who never once misgenders xion, even in private conversations with just him and the other two!

so absolutely yes. weird middle aged coworker who knows everybody's business and is less of a dick than he appears to be.