#rightful king or whatever
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keepingupwiththeboltons · 4 months ago
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How I sit on the chair made of swords
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hinamie · 2 months ago
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10 years later
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I always find it a little funny when the fandom treats "bright one" as an important title when in context it's a lot closer to:
"Hey traveler!"
"Which one?"
"The one in white!"
"Oh! Siffrin, he means you."
Like okay, you can argue it's partially because the darkless hair and cloak could be important to the Island, but it's mostly because The King Also Doesn't Know Their Blinding Name and the easiest way to distinguish the two was to point to the one practically glowing with how much white he's wearing.
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months ago
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"Well, they weren't the King when I dated them..."
But, it's not ghost king Danny. No no no. It's ghost king (and queen) Jack & Maddie.
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xellandria · 2 years ago
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Okay, "aging userbase" or whatever, but I've had a favourite since I first started using it and that was at like eleven or twelve, so.
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duskerot · 8 months ago
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i disappear inside myself / my friends don't know it can't be helped
[Pure You - Nothing But Thieves]
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starry-bi-sky · 6 months ago
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realizing i have. a lot of untapped trauma potential for clone^2 danny because i just Fully Processed Four Months Late the fact that his parents were capturing and torturing ghosts in the basement before he became Phantom. and the fact that he was on house rest for 2 weeks. during that time period. and he wasn't really leaving the house. he could hear their screaming through the floorboards
*points at clone danny* i can give you suuuuuuch a bad time babe ahaha. i've got two untouched years before you meet damian what fucks you up before then
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#clone^2#danny fenton is a clone#like i dont even need to traumatize you worse the pure explorative options from this aLONE is enough to feed me for a week.#like. tucks hair behind ear let me shatter you into glass pieces then glue you back together babe. i can put you back together so good.#i'm missing a few shards because some parts of you broke into such small pieces i couldn't pick them back up again so you'll be missing a#few chunks of yourself that you'll never get back but that's okay. you'll still be a resemblance of your old self :]#don't let anakin (me) listen to late night sad songs he makes angst.#hhh imagine being stuck in a house for two weeks where you can hear your parents torturing ghosts in the basement and not only that but#you're the only person who can undERSTAND the ghosts. how many times did he see his parents drag in a ghost with whatever capturing device#they made recently? iirc the thermos was like. brand new in episode one right? but gOD the trauma this alone would cause#nobody touch me im cooking rn i need to think about how this would impact danny. like obvs it would fuel into a developing obsession to#keep his parents away from ghosts and to help the dead but what *else.* i need to refine my becoming phantom ficlet i wrote back in winter#raaa#and like even after two weeks they were *still capturing ghosts* danny just wasn't in the house 24/7 at the time.#*but those two fucking weeks man*#i need to sleep on this first before i make any major moves bc i know im tired but i am having thOUGHTs
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snufkins-boot · 9 months ago
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Dc x dp idea: take one of those ‘Danny is Damian’ AUs, take a ‘Danny is Persephone’ AU, AND MASH THAT SHIT UP.
right so start off with the usual: Damian runs away and takes the name Danny, gets adopted by the Fentons etc. right?
When the bats find Damian they don’t find him in Amity no no no they find him in the ghost zone, site John Constantine bs or smth. And naturally this is a ghost king Danny AU so his ass is in full regalia and when asked he avoids the question, because how do you explain to the family you haven’t seen in years that you’re now the queen of the afterlife because you beat the fuck out of a god after you ran away and FUCKING DIED?!
But the bats and they won’t leave shit alone so they dig and shit and find out WHOOPDE FUCKING DOO HES MARRIED. Now make this who you want, I’m going everlasting trio because why the fuck not. TWO OF EM.
So Danny gets hoes and they believe that he got Persephoned or some shit, because not their precious little spawn of Satan, Nuh uh. He’s not dead, YOURE IN DENIAL. They meet the trio through unfortunate events and that solidifies it more that he got Persephoned as in their mind it cruel plant goddess and tech geek pharaoh, who frankly has no thoughts.
Add some flavour and have Sam be called king or something. Because I like to think that the infinite realms base their titles off your perception. Sam is mean and scary and thus king where as Danny is relatively sweet and generally popular among the residents of the infinite realms so he is their queen. And tucker is pharaoh. Duh.
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raayllum · 23 days ago
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me being so excited for the messy ezran arc i forgot there'd be discourse about it
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mostspecialgirl · 4 months ago
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i cant find my post about how shocked ace must have been reading the paper and being like “what do you mean my little brother has declared war on the government to recruit the infamous criminal nico robin” but i was just thinking its equally as funny thinking about sabo piecing together his past after marineford and trying to figure out what luffys been up to using revolutionary resources only to find out hes got jimi hendrix on his crew. like. one of his crewmates is soul king. the rock and roll phenomenon who is CURRENTLY touring the grand line. i can imagine him having to double check with robin when she joined up with the revolutionaries just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating
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shewhowillrise · 1 year ago
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DC x DP Prompt
Corpse AU
Danny: don’t worry not the first body I buried
Dick who called him about the dead joker in his trunk: that’s so reassuring thank you
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iheartbookbran · 2 years ago
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I’m obsessed with GRRM’s new not a blog post because he’s basically like “I need to hurry up and finish that pesky Winds of Winter thingie so that I can move on and concentrate on what’s really important… the Dunk and Egg novellas!”
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akorean · 10 days ago
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Has this been done yet?
Pov: the king in act 3
And I said...
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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month ago
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Whumptober Day 3 - Set up for Failure
Link walked the castle hallways in the dark. Occasionally he could still feel slippery warmth on his fingers, a strange echo of what had transpired. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he found it odd that it would imprint itself on him so much considering it was hardly his first kill.
Perhaps it was just because it had been a while. Or because of who the person had been.
It had been deserved. But he regretted doing so in front of Zelda.
Nausea overcame him, alongside a mind numbing exhaustion that fought for control. His skin crawled, hair on the back of his neck standing on edge, but his mind was so utterly blank he could hardly put together a single thought.
He felt nothing, really, as he continued to walk. His skin settled. He checked his hands once, twice, thrice. No blood. But he could still feel it, could still hear the gurgling breath as air filled pathways it wasn’t meant to, bubbling and drowning.
He wished Zelda hadn’t been there. But there was no avoiding it. The man had lost his mind, had been threatening her. Whether he’d truly meant it or not was a moot point by now; the damage had been done.
The man’s followers had done more damage than anyone. And Link was still very keen on hunting the rest of them down like the animals they were.
He’d spent the last month in a continuous fury, focused and determined in a way he hadn’t been since the war. It had been invigorating, honestly, and it had brought him and Zelda closer together than ever before.
Now that it was over…
Link paused, world growing hazy and spinning. He felt dizzy. He felt sick.
He wished today hadn’t happened. But what else had there been to do?
It was over. That was all that mattered.
The king consort sighed heavily, deciding that perhaps some prayer would settle his rattled mind. He maneuvered through the castle discreetly, entering the small sanctuary dedicated to the goddesses that was set aside for the royal family.
He hadn’t expected to see Zelda there.
The room was only just a little larger than Link’s own bedchambers, wooden pews lining in pairs for four rows, leading up to an altar where the ancient goddesses shimmered in golden splendor high on the wall. Beneath them was a depiction of Hylia, harp in hand. The altar glowed in different colors as moonlight spilled through stained glass, flanked by incense that slowly trailed tendrils up to the heavens.
Zelda sat on the floor just in front of the statues and altar, a blanket wrapped tightly around her, knees drawn to her chest.
Link felt like he shouldn’t be here. He was likely the reason she was praying, hunched over in such a vulnerable position. The Queen of Hyrule should be seated at the pews, or perhaps standing in front of the alter with hands folded over her heart. Instead, she looked like a child seeking comfort. It made Link feel all the more uneasy.
But no. He shouldn’t leave her like this. That was cruel.
Is it crueler for her father’s killer to be near her?
Ozen’s face flashed through Link’s mind again, nagging at him. He shook the image away, only slightly perturbed that it haunted him. He’d killed hundreds. This couldn’t be any different. It couldn’t.
Slowly, Link walked to the front of the chapel, sitting on the floor beside her.
Zelda didn’t acknowledge him initially. The cold of the stone floor brought some life back to him, trying to push the fog in his head away. He started trembling, catching himself off guard.
“Do you think Farore made us to suffer?” the queen asked quietly, eyes never leaving the golden statues above.
Link watched her a moment, uncertain, and then followed her gaze. The Golden Three looked serenely back at the pair. His eyes traced over the scales of justice in Nayru’s hand, over the flowers blossoming and encircling Farore’s arm, the fire and stone sparking around Din’s fingers.
“I don’t see why that would be the case,” he answered truthfully. “They have no need to make us just to watch us suffer.”
“What if we’re their entertainment?” Zelda questioned almost bitterly.
Link honestly sometimes debated if they even mattered to the goddesses, but the Triforce had chosen them, so clearly they had their favor, for whatever that was worth.
“Farore made us for a reason,” Link settled on saying. “I don’t think she wants us to suffer. I wouldn’t make something to watch it suffer. I wouldn’t want to see our children suffer.”
He supposed, then, that perhaps with that logic Farore had to care at least a little bit. But perhaps she was too removed, too busy dealing with something else – his destiny, once entwined to her graces, was over, after all.
“I suppose our suffering is our own fault, then,” he admitted. “We must be doing something wrong.”
He wished he could take the words back as soon as he’d spoken them—he’d decided to sit here to comfort Zelda, blast it—but he had no way to retract them. He himself had thought it multiple times, wondering why he was the way he was. Clearly it was his fault. He didn’t pray enough. He knew that. It wasn’t as if Hylia wouldn’t help if he petitioned her, even if Farore was too far to reach. She’d answered his prayers in the past, when he still bothered to speak to her.
Zelda was quiet for a long time before looking at the ground, pulling her knees a little closer, eyes staring somewhere beyond the stone floor. “We aren’t the only ones Farore made. We all have destinies, we all play our part. Just because others break the pieces of the puzzle, just because we bleed when we try to fit together as a result… that isn’t our fault.”
The words settled heavily in his mind and heart, and a million scenarios ran through his mind. Ganondorf, ruining everyone’s lives with his selfishness and pride. Ozen, almost destroying Hyrule time and again with his own paranoia. Zelda, constantly using those around her to further her agenda.
Link, helpless and pathetic and stupid, letting himself be hurt time and again, wallowing in self-pity like a child pitching a fit, undeserving of any sort of praise or love given all the idiocy he’d done.
He almost smiled. “I’m constantly reminded why Nayru chose you with her grace. I imagine your explanation is the correct one.”
The pair sat beside each other, each lost in their own thoughts. Link wanted to look up at the statues again, perhaps even to try and pray, but found he didn’t even have the energy to raise his head. Instead, he watched his hands, convincing himself he’d scrubbed off the blood for the millionth time that night.
He probably shouldn’t have killed him. Ozen was no murderer. He may have been brandishing a sword, but he hardly knew how to use it. He may have been yelling at his daughter, but he had never actually hurt her.
How could Link have known that she wouldn’t get hurt, though? How could he have stopped himself, when years of anger and hurt snapped at once, when all he saw was blood and all he felt was rage?
What was wrong with him?
What was he at this point? Had he ever been a Hero? He was no Hero now. He hardly felt empathy anymore, hardly felt anything. Dealing with the insurgents was the first time he’d felt life breathe through him in what felt like years.
Even now, despite how he ached at the pain emanating from Zelda, he could still feel anger and impatience trying to burn inside him. He had the gall to be frustrated that Zelda was suffering like this because of his actions, the audacity to be upset that he had to comfort her after she’d watched him murder her father.
When had it gotten this bad? Why couldn’t he fix it? Could he fix it?
Zelda swallowed, taking a slow, deep breath, and when he looked at her, he could see how she bit her lip to control her emotions.
“I still loved him,” she whispered, barely audible, voice breaking.
The queen of Hyrule began to cry quietly, trying to hide her tears from her husband. Link tensed even further, stomach rolling in protest, heart slamming against his ribs. The frustration boiled to the top and he looked away for a moment, frozen in anger and fear and exhaustion and hurt and guilt, not sure what he should feel, knowing, begging himself to comfort the woman beside him, unable to speak a word.
He dug his nails into his skin until they broke through. It made his body feel like ice in an instant, quieting his mind and heart. He felt sick. This was his fault. He wanted to run and never look back.
Instead, he leaned slowly towards her, wrapping an arm around Zelda, inviting her to rest against him. She started to sob, wrapping herself more tightly in her blanket, burying her face in his shoulder.
Link just held her as she cried. He couldn’t speak for the longest time, but the longer her tears stained his tunic, the worse he felt. The anger dissipated, exhaustion burned away, leaving a raw, raw emptiness and hurt that he couldn’t put any words to, a wound that had scarred and reopened time and again over the years, never healing fully, never addressed, and never leaving him alone.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, hardly able to get the words out. “I’m sorry.”
Once the words came out, they wouldn’t stop. He apologized over and over and over, images of Ozen, of Ganondorf, of Hemisi, of Merovar, of fallen Sheikah and Gerudo and Hylians, of Lady Impa bleeding on the floor after the attack, of his children watching him, of his own blood dripping down his body—I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry—
The King and Queen of Hyrule wept bitterly into the night, their cries carried on incense rising into the sky.
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forbidden-interlude · 2 days ago
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Like when black people first got the right to vote, do you think their options were ideal …. Let’s build a time machine for you guys so you can go convince them not to vote in the name of political strategy. I’m sure you have a lot of wisdom to impart.
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zuppizup · 5 months ago
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Very-Morally-Upstanding-Callum: I would do anything* for you.
*terms and conditions apply
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