#but i answered

[ganonfan1995]

DSAU Link –

A thick layer of mist blanketed the rolling hills of Hateno Village as the dawn sun inched its way along the horizon, spilling into the distant sky. Dew glistened like tiny diamonds on the fields, while the bodiless calls of unseen cuccos added to the morning symphony.

Link stirred in his bed, the cool humidity clinging to his face as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Mornings were always a challenge for him; despite his boundless energy, he slept deeply and soundly the moment his head hit the pillow.

Faced with the arrival of a new day, the last thing he wanted was to pry himself from the warmth of his bed. Yet, the lively ruckus of the cuccos roosting in his woodshed urged him to push himself upright. As he swung his legs over the side, the cold floor sent a shiver up his spine, a draft creeping between the boards and chilling his skin. He gasped, “It’s cold!” the words escaping his lips in a startled breath.

As the morning progressed, he found himself bathed, dressed, and enjoying a simple meal: a portion of cheese, stale bread soaked in sweet milk, and an apple. For later, he packed another piece of cheese, a smaller loaf of bread, and a handful of nuts. Wrapping the small lunch in a cloth, he tucked it into a small bag and slung it around his neck.

“Link!” A sweet, measured voice called from outside his house. “Link, are you up yet, sleepyhead?”

As he opened the door, the voice matched a familiar face—one he could never forget. His sister, younger by a decade, stood there, her bright smile illuminating the crisp morning air.

“Ah, there you are!” Aryll sang, her eager hands reaching out for him. “Papa was worried you’d be late again, so I came to check on you!”

“Thanks, Aryll. You didn’t need to come all this way,” he replied, holding her small hand in his. “Aren’t you worried about being late for class yourself?”

“Nope! I secretly knew you’d already be up, that’s why!” She nodded, her twin tails bouncing with the motion.

“You must be very smart, then. Do you want me to walk you to class?”

“Yes, please! Oh, could you?” she exclaimed.

“I can. Papa doesn’t need me urgently... Besides…” He knelt down to whisper in her ear, “I’d rather be late from walking with you to school than meeting Papa for work on time.”

Aryll’s eyes sparkled with joy, and she jumped enthusiastically into his arms. “Oh, you’re the best brother in the whole world! I promise I’ll never tell Papa that—I promise, I promise!”

Link held her tightly; he had all the time in the world for his sister. “Okay, okay! Let's go then, we both don’t want to be late.”

…

The school was a simple, old building that had served as a grain store somewhat fifty years ago. Now, it buzzed with the laughter and commotion of the town’s children. Decorative wooden carvings shaped like Koroks, hung from the trees in the yard. They clattered in the wind, and the sound of the wooden chimes brought a wave of nostalgia to Link as he stood at the edge of the schoolyard, bidding farewell to Aryll.

The rest of his morning was spent walking to his father’s workshop, which was on the same property as his house. He retraced his steps from the school to his home, through the garden gate, past his parents’ fields, and finally to the old workshop. Plumes of black smoke, dotted with bright embers, billowed from the chimney. His Papa was already hard at work.

Link hung his lunch bag on a hook near the entrance and slipped on an apron and heavy leather gloves in exchange. His hammer rested in its usual spot next to his father’s anvil. The forge was hot; his father worked the bellows, heating the small room in tandem with the flames.

“Link! You’re here! I was worried you’d keep me waiting all morning,” his father prodded.

“Aryll came by my house this morning; you’ll have to thank her for getting me up.”

“Of course she did. You’re the first thing on that girl’s mind the moment her eyes open. She really misses having you around for breakfast.”

“Maybe I could come by tomorrow?”

“As long as you can rise before the sun.” His father laughed, pumping the bellows with another burst of air. The furnace roared, sending a wave of heat against Link’s face. “You should stay for dinner; we’re having guests.”

“Oh? From Castle Town? That’s today?”

“You really 'ought to write this all down in a journal, boy.”

“Maybe I should, but I could swear they weren’t supposed to be in town for another week… Are they here to check on their order?”

His father nodded, a stern “mmn” standing for yes. “Next week is when we deliver. Until then, the captain of the guard will be here with a few of his men to prepare for carting it all back.”

“The pressure is going to kill me.” Link whined.

“We’ll manage just fine, we always do.”

“What do they even need all these weapons for, anyway? Farm tools are one thing, but we’ve never made this many swords before.”

“Same as always, Link. Don’t be daft.”

“So they really are expecting another calamity.”

“This time they swear they have reason to believe it. Their princess has been receiving prophecies.” His words were thick with sarcasm

Link glanced at the pile of finished swords, each wrapped in their own thin leather sheath. There had to be at least ninety in total. It felt insignificant. How could they expect such plain tools to ward off demons like Ganon?

“Do you think they stand a chance?”

“We can only pray that Hylia has them in her good graces.”

...

The workday passed as it always did, and soon the sun reached its zenith, beginning its descent toward the mountains on the horizon. By this time, Aryll had returned home, her voice ringing out as she shouted from outside the workshop windows.

“Papa! Link! I’m home, I’m home!” She was tall enough now that her little nose poked up over the window frame.

Link hadn’t realized how quickly she had grown. It felt like just yesterday she was five, playing heroes with him in the fields. He had only been sixteen then, still a young man but old enough to have just begun his apprenticeship under his father. How fortunate he was to have lived through those peaceful years, growing through the awkwardness of adolescence into young adulthood. But just as yesterday turned into last month, and last month into last year, and so on and so forth, troubling rumors from the castle began to reach the countryside. Then the soldiers arrived, bringing with them enough gold to secure the family farm and more. On his twentieth birthday, Link and his father were officially commissioned by the Royal Family to produce a hundred short swords for the military. A year passed quickly, and soon Link found himself a bit broader, with ninety-three swords forged under his hammer.

“Is that a little bokoblin I hear?” Link’s father joked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Noooo,” a giggle squealed from just out of sight. “Papa, it’s me, silly.” Aryll laughed and tapped at the glass.

“Daddy? I don’t remember having a bokoblin for a child.” He ducked out from the workshop, Link close behind him.

Aryll flung herself at her father, wrapping her arms around his waist in the biggest bear hug her little body could manage. Link’s father roared, feigning surprise. “Link, watch out! This one is aggressive!”

Aryll only laughed harder and played into the game with her father. “That’s right! I tricked you; I was really a bokoblin all along!”

“I’ll save you, Papa!” Link propelled forward, scooping Aryll up and swinging the giggling little girl high into the air. “Gotcha!”

“Help, Papa!” Aryll shouted. “It was a joke! I’m not really a bokoblin, I swear! Save me!”

“No way! I won’t fall for your lies! Your kind are always playing tricks. How can I be sure I can trust you?” Their father pressed, stroking the graying edges of his beard.

“Uhm, uh—because!” Aryll protested, a little pout on her lips. “Because even if I was a bokoblin, I would be nice to you because I’m nice!”

“Hmm, what do you think? Should we trust her?” He narrowed his eyes for a moment before giving her a curt nod. “Okay, Link. Let her go, but only because she promised to be nice.”

Link lowered her down, and Aryll smoothed out her tunic the moment her feet touched the ground. A moment passed, and then a mischievous look found its way back onto Aryll’s face.

“Just kidding! I’m actually—” She gestured widely with her arms and stomped toward Link and their father. “A big smelly moblin, and I’m gonna get you!”

Aryll gave chase toward the other two, who took off in a race toward the house.

…

The captain of the guard had already arrived by the time Link, Aryll, and their father returned home. A soldier sat nearby, and the two had been graciously entertained by Link’s mother, who was serving them tea. The soldier was stocky and no older than Link himself. He looked tired, and had a weariness on his face that made Link feel oddly sympathetic. The captain of the guard resembled the younger soldier, but he carried himself with a proud confidence that the younger man lacked. He was boisterous and kept his hostess in good company.

Link stepped into the common room, the warm scent of tea mingling with the comforting aroma of stew. His mother smiled at him, a glint of pride in her eyes, before turning her attention back to her guests.

“Welcome back, Link!” she said, gesturing for him to join them. “You remember Captain Hori, don’t you?”

Link nodded, a faint memory of the captain’s earlier visits surfacing. The captain's presence was commanding, his laughter booming as he regaled them with tales of life at the castle. The younger soldier sat quietly, sipping his tea, his gaze often drifting to the floor. Link took a spot next to Hori, and Aryll crawled up into her Papa’s lap, who sat in his own chair at the head of the table.

“Ah, young Link!” Captain Hori boomed, his voice rich and warm. “I hear you’re forging swords fit for legends! Your father speaks highly of your skills.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Link replied, feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment. “But I’m still only an apprentice.”

“Spare me your humility, Link! Hah! Every sword you and your father forge may save a life. You should take more pride in that,” Hori said, his eyes gleaming. “We may need every blade we can get soon. No doubt you’ve heard the rumors about unrest in the west, and I fear another calamity is brewing.”

At this, Link’s father shifted in his chair, his expression darkening. “Rumors can be misleading, Captain. We’ve heard tales before, and they often turn out to be nothing but whispers.”

Captain Hori’s demeanor faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “I assure you, it’s more than mere whispers. There are signs—”

Aryll, wide-eyed, leaned closer to Link. “What do you mean, Captain? Are there monsters?”

The captain chuckled lightly, though there was a shadow in his eyes. “Nothing we can’t handle, I assure you, little one. But it’s wise to stay prepared. Your family here is helping ensure we are ready.”

Link exchanged a glance with Aryll, who looked both intrigued and anxious. He could feel the weight of the captain’s words settling in the room, casting a subtle tension over the cheerful atmosphere.

“Hori,” Link’s father’s words cut through the tension, “please, none of this talk in my house.” He urged, accepting a cup of hot tea from his wife, who placed a comforting hand atop Ayrl’s head.

“Ah–Rhett, I apologize.” Hori said sympathetically, taking a long sip from his tea cup. “Production has been going well I assume?”

“Yes, we’re Ninety-three finished now, and should be done with the last seven by the end of the week.” Link’s father, Rhett, replied coolly.

“Wonderful, the king would be glad to know. Of the other blacksmiths commissioned you and your son have worked the quickest,” Hori grinned, “You know, there’s still a place for you in Castl–” 

“Hori,” Rhett interjected, setting his cup on the table. “We’re farmers, we make farming tools. After this–No more weapons.”

“For you maybe,” Hori shrugged and turned his attention to Link, who sat quietly between the two men. “Link on the other hand, if the pastoral life ever bores you, you’d be more than welcome to come shape some steel for us in Castle Town.”

Rhett scoffed, “recruiting my own son in my own house, some audacity you have.”  

As Rhett's words hung in the air, Link felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The thought of leaving his family’s forge behind was unsettling, all he had ever known was Hateno. 

Captain Hori, sensing the tension, raised his cup. “To craftsmanship, then! If every blade tells a story, then every pick, spade, and axe will too!”

…

Supper was served soon after, and once the evening concluded and their guests were satisfied, Link excused himself from the gathering. He headed back to his dwelling on the outskirts of his parents' property. Captain Hori and the young soldier, Komin, made their way toward the inn at the edge of town. Link offered to walk them there—or at least to the property line—and Captain Hori eagerly accepted. Rhett shot Link a cautious look, but Link eased his father’s unease with a friendly grin and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry Papa, I know where home is.” He reassured him, and Rhett heaved a heavy sigh. 

“I know, son.” Rhett pulled his son into a hug and ruffled his hair like he had when he was still a boy. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

As night loomed overhead, Link lifted his gaze to the stars. Komin and Hori had parted ways at the property line, and though Hori had intended to deliver another recruiting pitch along the way, the three men had walked in silence for most of their journey. Now, Link stood alone just outside his house, watching the stars shimmer as they always had. He lingered there for a long while, waiting for something—or someone—as the chill of the night crept closer, sending a shiver up his spine. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting something important. But as the moon rose higher and the air grew colder, the feeling began to ease, and he turned to open the door.

Inside, he lit the hearth and undressed for the evening. Once he was warm and the loft was cozy, he crawled into bed, settling in just right until all that occupied his mind was the comfort of sleep.

Link fell asleep in his home on the edge of his parents' property, dreaming of friends he had never known, in a place he had never been, and of a girl he had never met. When dawn crept over the sleepy valley town of Hateno, he would wake safe in his bed, just as he always had.

[linkspooky]

Oh I want you to go all in deep! As deep as you can go!

So plz tell me. How is Kitty Pryde from X-Men is like Mai Zenin from jjk?

I'm going to take this joke ask completely seriously, watch me.

Why are Mai Zenin and Kitty Pryde from X-men the same character? To begin with a brief history on comic books at the time. The Uncanny X-men is one of Marvel's most popular series, it features a school full of children who are gifted with great super powers but otucasted from society because of it and need to be taught by older people with the same powers how to use them. So you know, nothing like Jujutsu Kaisen.

X-men is the original "superhero high school" story. If a story features a bunch of teenagers with superpowers it's probably at the very least indirectly inspired by X-Men. When there's worldbuilding where some people in the world just happen to be born with superpowers, that idea probably came from X-Men. X-men is iconic! Kitty Pryde was introduced to the comic as a result of a Marvel Comics editorial dictate that the series depict a school for mutant children.

Kitty Pryde was the youngest to join the X-men at the time of her creation, and served as the archetpyal "Kid Sister" character to all of the older teams in the group. Not only does she play the part of a literary foil, she's also someone who provides an audience perspective especially to younger readers. The whole point of having a bunch of teenagers have super powers is to make the characters relatable so you can imagine yourself as one of them, so as the other characters got older they added Kitty Pryde to give the audience a new perspective character.

Except, Kitty Pryde is one of the most famous X-Men. Bar none. There's something about how young and normal she is that makes her appealing, especially around a band of freaks, a lot of whom have much more dramatic backstories than her. She's a lot more interesting than just "the baby sister" or "the normal one" because her perspective is unique, she's literally a kid who's thrown into this new world. She's sympathetic because the world she's just stumbled into is bigger than her and she just barely knows what's going on and she's just a normal person who happens to have the ability to walk through walls.

Then we have Mai Zenin, the most teen girl of teen girls. She is a character who should be as immediately sympathetic and relatable as Kitty Pryde, because she also is a completely normal girl thrown into a world she doesn't like, but we the audience don't see her that way because she's not the perspective character, Nobara is.

And Nobara thinks Mai is an asshole.

This is where I go back and introduce you to more comics history. Running at the same time as Marvel's X-Men and just as popular was a series that was also about teenage superheroes, the New Teen Titans. They decided to add a younger teenage girl to a team filled with young adults mostly in their late teens or early twenties but with a twist.

George’s strength was he also understood the characters 100 percent as I did so there was never any question. He knew. We had talked enough about the characters to know we were exactly on the same page with them. So I said, “Everyone keeps complaining that we’re like the X-Men” and the X-Men had just gotten Kitty Pryde. I said, “Why don’t we really screw around with them completely?” — this is the fans — “…and make them think we’re stealing Kitty Pryde only she’s gonna be bad from Day One.” You always had characters pop up, certainly at Marvel, who were bad that get redeemed. But this character would never get redeemed. She was insane. In fact, she was the catalyst for everything. She wasn’t working for Deathstroke. He was working for her in many ways and she was leading him because she’s crazy. She’s a total psychopath… and she’d be 15. 

In a famous interview Marv Wolfman admits that the concept of Terra came from everyone accusing Teen Titans of stealing from the X-Men, so they decided to make a character exactly like Kitty Pryde... but an asshole.

Terra is the exact same character as Kitty Pryde, young teenage girl added to the team, feels like she doesn't belong anywhere, completely new to life, can't control her powers, but Marv Wolfram and George Perez decided to write her as an antagonist to the main characters so despite having sympathetic traits, the audience doesn't sympathize with her.

Terra's the asshole little sister.

Which is essentially the same concept for Mai, especially in regards to her relationship with Maki. Mai doesn't present herself right away as a loving little sister who looks up to Mai, and loves her in spite of the Zen'in's treatment of Maki. She piles onto the Zen'in's abuse and throws the same insults at her. She's immediately unlikable as Nobara the audience perspective character decides to hate her. After all they grew up in the same household, Maki can be strong and fight back, Mai is just weak and blames others.

Mai, just like Terra too doesn't really want to get stronger, she doesn't want to change. She pouts, sulks, whines, makes excuses, blames others, all ways that we don't like to see victims acting because Maki can be strong right? So why not Mai? Terra was created to be everything that Kitty Pryde is not, and Mai was created to be everything Maki is not.

That's why Kitty Pryde and also Terra remind me of Mai Zen'in, because she is literally created to be the little sister of Maki Zen'in a character we're supposed to love and sympathize, with the exact same backstory of Maki... but an asshole.

[depressed-lombster]

There is nothing "funni" or relatable about your characters.

Ummm actually that's where you're wrong and dumb and I'm right and also really cool with perfect hair and skin

I do have a funni doodle this time

It me

[unforth]

Y'all I know that when so-called AI generates ridiculous results it's hilarious and I find it as funny as the next guy but I NEED y'all to remember that every single time an AI answer is generated it uses 5x as much energy as a conventional websearch and burns through 10 ml of water. FOR EVERY ANSWER. Each big llm is equal to 300,000 kiligrams of carbon dioxide emissions.

LLMs are killing the environment, and when we generate answers for the lolz we're still contributing to it.

Stop using it. Stop using it for a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g. We need to kill it.

Sources:

[everythingwasnormalhere]

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

[willgrahamscock]

YOURE 30???????

yeah I mean i've been posting on tumblr since 2011, I'm part of the geriatric tumblrinas

[jackalspine]

@schnuffel-danny hehehe

regarding this post: from schnuffle

[theriverbeyond]

packing for a trip is like ok i need 30 pairs of underwear. my entire medicine cabinet. T shirt?

[yourfavecharacterisqueer]

hypothetical scenario for you all: the real king arthur returns. you meet him and you welcome him into your home. what is the first thing you do with him? keep in mind, this is a man from the 500s (he died in 542), and you are from the 21st century (2024).

[nymphoutofwater]

And why? Cultural norms? Personal schedule? “Cause I’m always late to everything”?

Bonus points: Region and/or ethnicity?

[luthienne]

i wake up thirsty and i think of palestine. i go to the doctor’s office and i think of palestine. a sign in the corner of the waiting room says ‘this is a place of healing, disruptive behavior will not be tolerated’ and i think of palestine. they probably weren’t thinking of bombs and snipers and mass graves in parking lots. i call my parents and i think of palestine. i drive to the grocery store and i think of palestine. i look at the clear blue sky and i think of palestine. i put the dishes away and i think of palestine. i feed my cat and i think of palestine. i listen to music and i think of palestine. i read poetry and i think of palestine. i text my friends and i think of palestine. i think of palestine and i think of palestine and i think of palestine

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[lifenconcepts]

Tf you mean people don’t keep their bedroom windows open for long amounts of time? You ACTUALY close it at night?? Dude.. I haven’t closed my window since give or take a bit around the start of spring.. and even as im freezing my bone off I refuse to close it completely - I NEED the circulating air. Do inform me.. is it actually common practice to close your window at night?

[bamsara]

as soon as the disorders stop disordering and the disability stops debilitating I will be so unstoppable powerful forever

[lesamis]

are you a Byron or Wilde apologist?

concerned citizens from 1895 are messaging me

[ineed-to-sleep]

Collection of memes with mostly my tav/astarion to keep myself sane