#[ I'll be back to try to write ]

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[burningcheese-merchant]

Silent Salt's countenance is... a unique one. Not hideous, not quite, but not conventionally attractive by any means. Coupled with a cluster of scars and other ancient forms of injury further marring his face, he was never an easy one on the eyes, so to speak. He always wore the helm because it was his deeds that mattered, not his identity - or that was how he once thought, in his distant, heroic past. But, in painful, unfortunate truth, it was also partially because he simply didn't want to deal with the staring. With the shock. With the thinly veiled disgust. The forced politeness angered him the most; he knew they were lying, he knew his face perturbed them. He would've respected them so much more if they had just spoken plain.

There had always existed this shallow element of self-loathing within him; never more so than it does with regards to White Lily. She's so lovely, so captivating, and he's... he has to wear a mask all the time, just for some semblance of peace of mind. Hers is a sweet, delicate, almost ethereal beauty. He is grim and gruff and all dark, sharp edges, inside and out. If by some miracle his personality and status as Beast of Silence doesn't drive her away, then his face will. Like it had so many others.

He has never allowed anyone to remove his helm. Not even his friends and colleagues, both then and now (especially not now. Shadow Milk's petty jabs are insufferable even with Salt's face obscured; revealing it again would only escalate the jester's mockery). Even just trying to touch it sparks a terrible rage. It's his security blanket, in a way. Something that grants him a modicum of control over his supposed destiny. He cannot change how he looks, but he can at least hide it. And hide it, he will. From everyone he can, for as long as he can. From her most of all.

Perhaps he could've been more... polite in his refusal of her touch, the first few times. He saw a hand wrapped in green floating towards his face and he responded. The regret that washed over him at the sound of her yelp - startled and pained, an accessory to the tremor in her wrist born from him grasping it so tight - was overwhelming, almost suffocating, and yet... he did it again, the next attempt she made. And the one after that. And the one after that. Nevertheless, for reasons unknown, she persisted.

Must've been that morbid curiosity of hers.

The one time she asked him why he never rid himself of the helm, he answered her simply. "Because I don't want to." Five words - six, technically - conveyed to her through the curling of his fingers and the rattle of his gauntlets as he signed them to her. And she took it well, all things considered. No disappointment, no rebuttals, no further inquiries. Only a slow, thoughtful nod and nothing else. It was a mercy and a relief he didn't think he'd feel so thankful for, until he did.

Something told Silent Salt that she already knew the answer that hid behind the first one. Intuition? Their Soul Jam connection? That glint in her eye that resembled sympathy more than he would've liked? Whatever it is, it hardly matters in the end. She asked once. He answered once. She didn't ask again. That was the end of it.

With time, she grew more bold. No more reaching for his helm; it took a few tries but she learned her lesson there. Instead she let her hands rest on his cold shoulders. Trail along the dents and grooves in his chest. Take one of his gauntlets prisoner, turning it into a test subject, the apple of her curious eye as she studied the metal plates big and small encasing his fingers.

"Your hands are quite large," she remarked one day, some of it to him and some of it just to herself, her eyes still fused to the black sheet of his palm as she spoke. "My friend, Golden Cheese... She once told me that your comrade has large hands, too. Twice the size of hers, in fact. Are they bigger than yours, too?"

Yes, he told her, if his memory served. Once upon a time, Shadow Milk had tried to draft blueprints for armor that would actually suit Burning Spice's brutish proportions, and used Silent Salt's own as both a model and a controlled variable in his design experiments. Spice was as much a foolhardy thrillseeker then as he is now, charging into battle with his beads and bracelets and little else on his person. Whenever the five of them reconvened - and those meetings became fewer and fewer with time - Shadow Milk would nag him incessantly about it. Clucked at him like a mother hen would at an unruly chick. It was once his way of showing concern. Once.

The gauntlets were dirty and must have felt quite cold and unpleasant to the touch. But if White Lily minded, she made no sign of such. In fact, she showed the opposite; if he dared to believe what those slender, linen-wrapped fingers weaving through his own ironclad, mannish ones told him, she even seemed to find comfort in them. In him.

She grew bold, and he let her. A time eventually came when he could no longer help himself - but it was a hard-earned victory if there ever was one. Despite their bond, be it the one forged from their shared divinity or the one forged from their tentative friendship, his old habits and reservations still bound him in chains; memories from a time long gone, of men and women shying away from his sight. Of children rudely gawking. As darkness descended upon his soul, he came to resent them and their harsh reactions, for it was because of them that he looked like this in the first place. Every blade that carved into the flesh of his cheeks. Every creature with terrible claws that sought his eyes as trophies. Every gauntlet that looked just like his own that punched, slapped, poked; whatever the owner could do to leave behind their mark of conquest and shame. Silent Salt endured it all for their sake, and all the thanks he ever got was being gazed upon as a freak. A cautionary tale. A garish art display.

The world branded him a monster long before he ever became one. What reason did they have to be so distraught when he finally did? Is this not what they always believed him to have been anyway?

But White Lily took no part in this wholesale rejection. How could she, when deep down, she was hardly any different? And who would he be to continue mimicking his persecutors, like he has been for far too long?

One day, he found himself under a microscope again. It was cute, how her brow would furrow the slightest bit and she would start to purse her lips the stronger her single-minded focus became. A strand of snow white hair escaped its place atop her head and came dangling, teasing the tip of her nose; yet still, it went ignored in favor of the knight looming past it. Few questioned Silent Salt's bravery, himself included, but now... now he can feel his accursed face growing warm at the thought of tucking that rogue strand of hair behind her ear. Such a deceptively simple thing.

He stood still as a statue as her hands traveled up the metallic expanse of his torso. Up, up, up, along plates that had long lost their smoothness and shine, dipping into scratches and dents left by friend and foe alike, those old scars he wore on the outside. Sneaking past a familiar silhouette, just barely grazing the tips of that fabled fleur-de-lis. He never envied Burning Spice and where his own Soul Jam resided, but in hindsight, perhaps Silent Salt was never much better. With how seldomly he removed his armor, it may as well be his flesh by now. And within his flesh the Light of Silence nested, glowing brighter and emitting a faint pulse upon White Lily's brief disturbance. A broken heart, still as death, woken from its eternal slumber. Dared to beat again by she who held onto its missing half.

Her hands rose to his neck. Some ancient warrior's instinct demanded he take action against this would-be assassin, but he paid it no mind. He knew better. Not that White Lily wasn't capable of such barbarism; she has proven differently a thousand times over by now. He simply knows what an assassin looks like, and what a liar feigning innocence looks like, too - and now, in this moment, White Lily was neither.

His breath caught in his throat when those hands grasped at his head and he felt his helmet begin to rise. Slowly, carefully, betraying their master's hesitation. There was a slight tremor in her wrists - was she expecting him to suddenly reach up and grab her again? To try to stop her?

...The former came to pass, that much was true. But instead of pushing her away, this time, he found the courage to do the opposite: with his hands eclipsing her own, he guided them up and away, taking his helmet with them.

He loosened his grip just enough to let her hands go free. From there, he lowered his helmet and held it tight - so much so that that telltale rattling filled both their ears.

It felt strange for the wind and sun caress his skin again after so long. Once upon a time, he welcomed their embrace; once upon a time, they were a beloved respite, the only reward he ever wanted for himself after a long battle. They never ran away or judged him for this unfortunate face of his; in fact, once upon a time, he might've said and thought that they were the only ones in the whole world that ever believed he was handsome.

White Lily did not run away. She did not veil her disgust behind false politeness. She did not judge that unfortunate face of his.

All he could behold in her own face and eyes was that same old curiosity, adorned with that familiar glint of sympathy and shadowed by sorrow.

She gave her hands back to him. Cradled his face as he cradled his helm, albeit more gently. Ran her thumb over a faded gash in his cheek. Ghosted her fingertips over the claw marks crisscrossing over his eyes.

Silent Salt wondered if she'd already guessed his eyes are purple. He didn't ask. She probably did.

"It must have been terrible," she murmured, some of it to him and some of it to herself, as she observed the scar that threatened to split his hairline.

He nodded. She said no more, but there was no need; he understood what she meant. "It must have been terrible, how you earned each of these." "It must have been terrible, how others would shun you for what you endured." "It must have been terrible, how you felt compelled to hide behind a mask all this time, for lack of remembering any other way to exist." Only White Lily could say so much with so little. He always cherished it.

Through her quiet, endless searching, he could sense that she wanted to know more. In her eyes were questions that she wouldn't let out of her mouth. She wanted to know where the scars came from. What caused them. Who. How. Why.

Despite that morbid curiosity of hers, she did not ask. Although it likely pained her, she held her tongue and gave him peace. This was something else Silent Salt admired, something else that made him favor her above all others. For unlike others, her politeness was real.

He caught her stealing a glance at his lips, the faintest shade of pink tinting her cheeks as she did so. Gone were her sorrow and sympathy, leaving curiosity behind. In their place came... something else.

Perhaps the wind and sun weren't the only ones who believed he was handsome anymore.

She grew bold, and took a step closer - the only step left to take, with how close they already stood. Placing her feet atop his own in a small, adorable way to compensate for her height.

Only now did his supposed bravery return, and grant him the strength to tuck that strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed surprised, more so by his sudden gesture than she'd ever been by his face, the warm color in her cheeks turning more vibrant. He wondered if she could see that he felt just as bashful. She probably did.

She stood on her tiptoes, inviting him to tilt his head down with the soft nudge of her palm against the nape of his neck. He did so without resistance; now it was her turn to guide him.

She grew bold, and pressed a kiss to his scarred lips. And he let her.

[the-scarecrow-of-aus]

Time limits and being late for dinner

Danny, pinned down by gunfire on top of a wounded red hood who caught him in his territory and chased him into a rivals warehouse:

"Hey hood, soo... hypothetically, if I was to remove your helmet how long is the detonation trigger?"

Jason starting to lose conciousness and slur from blood loss:

"Like half a second after it triggers, it'll blow before you can clear my head, why?"

"Cool, that gives me half a second to see why my sister is obsessed with your ugly ass!"

"What? Wait... who's your sis-"

*grabs Jason's head by the helmet and phases it straight off and through his body using the momentum to throw it towards a group of shooters in a single move*

[There's a loud bang and the shooters duck for cover as two go down screaming from the shrapnel]

"-ter... hey! How'd you do that?"

"Ugh, I was right, you remind me of Johnnie. Oh well, c'mon man, well be late. Not something you want to experience when jazz is waiting"

"Jazz... Wait! Are you kidding me, the bookworm Jazz, is your sister?"

Danny braced his arms across hoods chest under the arms like they were floating in water and leaned backwards, red hood and himself suddenly unburdened by gravity slid through the wall covering their backs and disappeared from sight (if not sound as Jason dazedly kept commenting on the cute girl he'd mistaken for babs and if she actually liked him back)

They were late, jazz was definately gonna be mad!

[a2remedy]

Ride or Die and Beyond

Jason Todd, at 15, panicked and tired, didn't know what to make of the situation he was in.

Jason Todd, at 13, was oblivious to his best friend, who was, by all means, just as much of a medical professional as Leslie. That totally wasn't concerning.

Oblivious to how he'd always have a copy of Pride and Prejudice on hand whenever Jason was feeling stressed. Oblivious to dancing shadows and tricks of the light that lead him to hidden clues at crime scenes. But he was aware of the promise to be each other's ride or die when they had to beat up older Gotham Academy students that tried bashing them for not being from rich families.

Jason Todd, at 15, was aware that changed when it was his turn to tend to his friend who got a high fever. He had Alfred rush them to Leslie's and stuck by his side because he knew his friend was afraid of hospitals and needles. He held his friend's hand tight and squeezed to remind him that he was there.

They made jokes about how they couldn't avoid each other even in death. That's when it becomes Ride or Die and Beyond. Then he died. Screaming for his friend and for his dad. Jason Todd, at 15, has never failed to grasp that he couldn't get rid of his friend even if he wanted to. It was fucking annoying... and endearing.

----

Danny Fen Nightingale, at 15, never thought he'd be fighting back an assassin lady with a shovel in front of his best friend's grave. He's been feeling off for months. His grief over his friend felt... wrong? Something was happening. No, something was bound to happen. He couldn't explain it until a green sticky note told him to take a little walk down memory lane within Gotham. He dug up some flowers he was growing and stopped by a tool shop to get a bigger shovel to get the flowers closer to his best friend. As close as they could. But someone beat him there. Someone new? No, he knew this feeling. The unknown, the feeling that someone was watching whenever he visited. He failed to crack her upside the head for attending without flowers. But he felt the shift, somethi- time, time decided to set things right. ---- Talia was caught between a sense of shock and pride that the friend of her beloved's ward nearly got the jump on her. She wouldn't deny that it was within her expectation, though. The boy's steps were so light, she would've been hit if he wielded with less drag, something lighter. With the way the boy dodged and weave from her blows, she was ecstatic to see a dagger in his hands. Is this how the boy felt when he slipped out of here mentioning a 2 for one deal? It was only after her beloved's ward crawled out of his grave that the boy let his guard down so slightly while blocking her off from him. The boy lasted without her training. She was sure he had training of some kind, and yet his form was lax. So nimble, so adaptable.

Of course, she made quick work of the two and covered their tracks before making her escape.

Were her maternal instincts activating again? ----

She wasn't sure how to define her relationship with Danyal. The boy has finally seen the effort to correct her and Damien as pointless after months of being here. Yet, he's displayed a strength she hasn't seen in knocking down her father and dragging him through a brighter glowing Lazarus pit for "paperwork". She may not be sure of what or where her father was, but Danyal has ensured his good health with a devilish grin and that he never laid another hand on him. She was positive he was being tortured in a way the soft-hearted boy deemed fitting. But was he another son? He didn't seem opposed to the idea after her insistence to be trained and grimaced at being in a room with them for too long as he said they stink. He visits 3-4 times a week to ensure her beloved's war- Jason was good in his recovery.

She found herself agreeing with Jason less and less as the boy began turning red after they shared the night he was first back in his right mind crying and holding the other close. But Jason assures her that he's just his best friend... Maybe Danyal couldn't be her son. But he could be her son-in-law.

She wasn't against that.

She also wasn't against the glances she shared more often with Damien as two interacted. They grew closer in discussion of how Danyal fell first, but Jason was falling harder. Then there was this Roy character she's been hearing about more. She couldn't wait to take pleasure in Jason's reaction of his love interests assassinating the so-called Prince of Crime. It warmed her heart that they involved her in strategizing and cleaning up. They also seemed to be reaching a similar affection.

Now she and Damien just need to get Jason to realize he has two boyfriends. Oh, the struggle of motherhood.

[sualne]

modern au dragon and luffy get to meet each other eventually

this is also legally blind dragon btw, luffy gave him his sunglasses because he saw him squinting and thought it was because of the sun.

[swhhdr-wthhr]

i know i haven't uploaded a new chapter for this fic in over half a year... and i probably won't any time soon... but here's some lore explained w/ virgil

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

please please please Dark World Butcher??? Please?? Dennis Collins again please? Snarling wolf like animal who just can't wait to get his teeth wet? But even more so?? Please?????

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Souped!

[wardingshout]

Hi Livi!

I finally gathered the courage to send something to your ask box. There’s so much I want to say, but I'm not very good at expressing myself, so if my words seem a bit jumbled, I hope you don't mind.

I started using Tumblr a little over a year ago, and I remember stumbling upon one of your artworks after searching the “alttp” tag. I was so incredibly happy and excited — I loved it immediately, especially because it’s so rare to see ALTTP-related art where I’m from.

Back then, I didn’t pay much attention to who the artist was and just kept browsing. But over time, I realized that so many of the amazing pieces I loved were actually created by you! Honestly, your art is breathtaking. The way you portray Link and Zelda outside of the game’s narrative makes them feel so real. Your inspiration and creativity seem endless.

Your use of bright, intricate, and emotionally resonant colors fills every piece with a sense of story — sometimes with a gentle sadness, sometimes with tiny, charming interactions that make me smile.

I remember seeing that you draw on a particular site, and I tried using it too. It was really hard 😣 and made me admire your work even more — I’m amazed at how you manage to create such rich, detailed pieces on such a tiny canvas and with such limited tools.

Your compositions and the way you frame your scenes are incredible too — the perspectives you use, whether it's looking up, down, or close-up, show such skill and depth. I’ve been obsessed with your artwork for a long time 🥺🥺

And the outfits you design for Link and Zelda — they’re absolutely beautiful. They’re so different from the classic green tunic, yet they feel *exactly* like something the characters would wear. I don’t think any language could fully express how much I love your costume designs. Please allow me to scream for a moment here.

There’s still so much I want to say, but now that I’m writing, I find myself at a loss for words. So I’ll just say this: you are truly an amazing artist. Your work is astonishing and deeply captivating.

Also, I drew some of your versions of Link and Zelda — I hope you’ll like them! (Screaming again, their designs are just too beautiful 😭😭)

VIOLET HI!!! 💕💕💕

I'm sorry I have no idea where to start here, I'm feeling so overwhelmed in the best way ever! I just barely managed to load this ask before leaving the locker room at work yesterday and ended up hiding there until everyone else left bc I didn't want them to see my cry haha💕,,

I don't think there's any beginning or end to how emotional this got me and to how honoured I feel to have my art described in such a way;; this is!! absolutely everything I've ever dreamed of reaching with my art, so having someone else putting it into words just from looking at is so incredible !!!! ;v; even if it's hard to feel happy about my own stuff it seems like I can still portray the things I want to, this makes me so happy 🥹💕💕

and especially because a lot of this is stuff I absolutely love about your art too!!!! you have such an incredible way of creating soft, yet somber atmospheres and your compositions always come off so intentional and interesting !!! the way you blend so many different colours into everything looks both natural and interesting and it's one of my absolute favourite things from art !! ✨✨✨

Seeing you back on tegaki was such a joy too !!! ;v; even if it ended up feeling difficult, I was so excited to see you there and getting to check your posts for new comments brought me so much joy !!!! I always wanted to send you more comments but got so caught up in the excitement of you posting smth yourself I got distracted from it too often...

in general I'm always so excited to see you post new art !!! and super grateful we get to see a lot of your sketches lately too !!!! you art has such a consistent and pretty style and always comes off so smooth and effortless and interesting and it has inspired me so much !!! 💖💖💖🥹💕

I'm feeling a bit lost for words since there's So much I want to say it's difficult to phrase it properly. but you bringing up fun tegaki memories reminded me of the most fun way to thank people! (I tried bringing out the classic palette too!)

and since I also really love the way you draw them too and I was sad I missed maid day (yet again) them !!

I've been absolutely losing my mind over the way you drew my little guys!!!!!!!;; I've been looking at them so much already they almost feel ingrained into my brain, to the point I almost forgot they were real !!! there's no way I could properly thank you for all of this; the amazing art, the incredibly nice words and all the art inspiration you bring me by sharing your work!!! I'm feeling so so lucky and again so so honoured ;v; 💖💖💖💕💖💕

[hyakunana]

Hyper Zombie Victory 🌠

[shanastoryteller]

wbt ch 4 progress report: 4k

[sonnenreich]

⠀      ⠀            ⠀    ❝ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 

⠀      ⠀⠀      ⠀    ⠀      ⠀    ⠀⠀      ⠀         𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘. 

independent  and  original  british  witch  following  the  name  of  𝐙𝐄𝐄𝐕  𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄,  ready  to  fulfill  your  darkest  wishes  or  just  serve  you  the  best  tea  blend  you  ever  tasted  ⸻  based  on  neo-pagan  beliefs  and  modern  witchcraft  aesthetic,  selective  and  mutuals  only,  activity  varies,  21+  p&mdni  (  conjured  by  cherry,  she / her  ☼ )

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The fans: Ugh Sonic was just so preachy. I mean obviously he's supposed to be the good guy, so any uncomfortableness I feel here and any way I feel like Sonic's choices are framed as being why some other people have shitty lives is just bad writing because he is obviously supposed to be right always, but this characterization makes no sense. Isn't he right for the things he did?

Ian Flynn, using Kitsunami to say the (barely even at this point) quiet part even louder: Hey it's almost like ever since the Mr. Tinker event we've been purposely running with the critique of Sonic as being more selfish than he appears. Sonic is upholding a system of Eggman v Sonic that currently benefits him and shuts down talk of how to improve the current system because he likes his own personal enjoyment and he's attached enough to Eggman that he'd rather Eggman pretend to be a good person than be stuck in prison for life. He doesn't even quite practice what he preaches. We are trying to show that the current hero v villain system and Sonic's recklessness currently affects some people poorly and that Sonic isn't a perfect hero.

[mikaikaika]

Hello! As a general note to the community I'd highly recommend watching the first hour of Aimsey's stream, they discuss multiple topics such as taking responsiblity as a creator, staying informed about current events, Palestine, Los Angeles, boycotting and sharing tools that make it even easier, how they understand they haven't been doing as much as they could have and would like to change that now, and that if you yourself weren't aware of boycotts and such you should move away from pitying yourself into getting informed and taking action!

They also expressed their distate for some people, online and offline, who focus their energy on reprimanding those who are rightfully angry at those with the privilege to not have to be informed on current events, who can just walk away from news because it doesn't affect them.

Towards the end of the hour, they talk about the amount of biphobia they've seen this pride month especially, which it'd do no harm to listen to as well if you're unaware. They also have a subgoal for watching My Little Pony, from which the money is donated to Palestinian fundraisers, if that is something anyone would enjoy viewing I'd recommend contributing!

Just thought I would share here since I have seen some people here who have only heard about the boycotts recently, and to me Aimsey has done a really nice job and made a lot of points in this discussion that they could benefit from hearing, and also has linked a lot of good resources about further educating yourself, especially as someone who has been been unaware until now, not only on the genocide but on Palestinian culture as well.

Sorry for the really long rambly message, I just thought it'd be a good thing to share, I myself am someone who has a really really terrible Lukey hyperfixation (thank you ADHD) but I am also brown and part of a Muslim community, so my thoughts are really jumbled up! I've got half a fic written, and now I'm putting off finishing it for a bit, but hopefully everything turns out ok and I can do it. Love the blog, love the community, and thank you for reading if you did :D

^^^^^^

Tysm for sending this nonnie I didn't know Aimsey did a stream like that. Putting the stream link here - they are still live but the link should work.

[quackity1999]

[ OOC: hi stinkies. my birthdays coming up soon (21st june BABYYYYYY!!!! but im in the southern hemisphere so itll be like. the 20th for u guys. i Think) BUT UM. HI I MISS U ALL. im hopefully getting a new phone and such so :3 oh my godddd i hope ur all doing well. i miss big q. I Miss Him. ]

[sulatni-ree]

bro i wanna join sports au summer but all the sports i know are filipino,,,