#and i'm just here as a remnant

[heavenfell-au]

How did you come up with Frisk's curse? I'm trying to come up with one myself but don't know where to start.

SPOILER ALERT

Back when I started writing my fiction, I was laying down on the couch just daydreaming to some songs and I had that specific scene in mind, the one where they come out of the strange cocoon into a demonic being. I think the song I was listening to was Butterfly from Rachel Rose Mitchell. That's how my fanfiction which was supposed to be a UF!Pap x Reader turned into a whole AU, thinking of what would lead Frisk to their fate.

Fun fact : Lost Soul's design is actually what my demon looks like, just like anything in Heavenfell holds a part of me as a venting/therapeutic project so Frisk's curse was pretty natural for me to illustrate. If you wanna see why, I think it's better to show my vent arts of over a decade

CW : "naked"... dead... spirits ???????

Damn, what a treat. It's 6 years worth of torment right there LMAO anyways... Yeah. Hope you can see how it came to me.

I guess the best thing is to find inspiration in media, like I did, it could be music, a show, a movie... your own personal torment with a dash of fantasy. I wish you the best with that !

[spoondoodles]

I blacked out and more Logince HS AU appeared on my canvas idk what happened (also ty @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat for some inspiration sorry it took so long to make a post about Them <3)

[torgawl]

instead of just cross eyes and star eyes distinguishing dynasties in khaenri'ah, why do some khaenri'ahns cover one eye specifically? there’s many things that seem interconnected regarding the lore:

crimson moon turning around to look like an eye; irmin the one-eyed king; the unknown god’s cubes containing eyes in their design (same ones present in the cataclysm as well as the crimson moon), her glitching looking like arlecchino’s, and the four pointed star pattern that appeared when she showed up to the twins; forbidden knowledge and nibelung’s influence; fischl's auge der verurteilung aka eye of condemnation (crimson eye) and her skin's description "o holiest of sovereigns, high princess of immernachtreich (kingdom of evernight)!".

kaeya's note about the alberich saying "i saved this one memento from the fire 'father' made while he wasn’t paying attention. this was in violation of our principles. our clan's affairs should never be recorded" and "though we could not restore khaenri'ah to life, we of the alberich clan should lead lives as those who blaze like fire, rather than those who wallow in the embers [small piece of burning or glowing coal or wood in a dying fire]", father being in quotation marks and references to fire and ashes; the orphanage in khaenri'ah that wanted to house children from destroyed worlds and non-threats that leaked into the kingdom, in hopes of finding beings from beyond the sky who could transcend the gods; perinheri's first memory being transversing something like a chimney, filled with ash and being asked if he wasn't dead just for him to see the eye (crimson moon) and being told he was reborn; dust and the blood of of dragons (or dragon-like beings like durin and elynas) being connected to rhinedottir and the art of khemia; fire as rebirth and life but also, the balemoon blood specifically being connected to loss of memories and loss of memory being equivalent to death (not physical);  despite the orphanage never being able to find that transcendal person, it had many unusual individuals who became knights of the kingdom.

irmin as the first divine halberd (that once pierced the axis mundi [cosmic/world axis, world pillar, center of the world, world tree, etc.] and connected the nine worlds), the prinzessin der verurteilungas (fischl) as the last one; fischl and kaeya comparing themselves to one another and their parallels to irmin and odin; der ring des nibelungen, in which the dwarf (or nibelung) alberich creates a ring capable of controlling the world, using gold he stole from the rhinemaidens (or rheintöchter "rhine-daughters"). the conflict that arises over the ownership of this ring eventually leads to the destruction of the gods and their home, valhalla.

irminsul (irmin + sul) meaning great pillar and being a reference to the yggdrasil, the tree that supports the universe; the description of the item silver twig – collected in the center of the world - talking about a sage that hanged himself upside down in the irminsul tree to gain knowledge of the runes and the cosmos, then going into a secret kingdom down its roots [also a reference to hanged man in tarot that symbolizes wisdom, divination, sacrifice, prophecy, etc.]; odin who hung himself upside down from the sacred world tree, yggdrasil, for nine days and nights sacrificing his eye and throwing himself on his spear (gungir) as a ritual sacrifice in order to obtain secret wisdom; memories, fire and crimson moon hand in hand with the irminsul, king irmin and the concept of fate; the fake sky, the stars and being able to see fate but also fate being a means of the heavenly principles to control the world (neuvillette calling it puppet strings); khaenri'ah, a supposed godless nation but the crimson moon dynasty revering the moon (and hilichurls worshiping istaroth); the crimson moon having an eye on humanity and always being present associated with punishment and destruction (fall of gurabad, remuria and the catclysm).

crimson moon's semblance (arlecchino’s weapon) implying the crimson moon sought vengeance (“few survived the utter destruction of their kind, hiding in the shadows where the sun did not shine, longing for the crimson moon to decree their desire for vengeance be repaid”); the design of the weapon and arlecchino’s boss attacks resembling the double helix present in deathly statuette material dropped by abyss heralds, abyss lectors and shadowy husks, which has a single red eye. it apparently whispers "see, my child. all that lies under the throne of heaven shall be destroyed by upheaval. the eternal peace of the pitch-dark void shall embrace us all.” as you gaze at it.

the abyss order being founded by chlothar alberich and pierro being the first harbinger; the "sinner" – the crystal in chains from the chasm, protected by an abyss herald - not being a god but still worshipped by the abyss order. the voice stating to chlothar and the traveler’s twin that he "[knows their] fate well" and urged them to become a "transcendent one" saying he would "shed a tear at the end of time... as i gaze back upon your life". he also imbued chlothar with the power of the abyss, which alleviated his worsening conditions. the “sinner” refered to chlothar as “dear creature”; dainsleif, pierro and kaeya being examples of khaenriahns who hide their right eye; dainsleif being called “bough keeper”, bough is a branch of a tree, but also his constellation being a snake ring like ouroboros – representing the eternal renewal cycle of life, death and rebirth; the loom of fate being an operation of the abyss order first encountered during "a herald without adherents" quest.

“the threads of your fate lie in my hands” a quote by fischl connecting to the weaves of fate; fischl stating that if she does not obtain the divine halberd “...this world and everything in it is going to burn in hellfire” (legend of the shattered halberd vol. ii). some other excerpts of the book also include: “but unbeknownst to him, this was the greatest cursed sword of all, that had once burned the entire world to cinders: laevatain [in norse mythology, a weapon crafted by loki and the only capable of defeating the cockerel viðofnir, inhabiting the top of yggdrasil], the sword had extinguished after the world was burned, but... it burned bright once more. ‘the whole world... destroyed again...’ weiyang [fischl] fell unconscious as she spoke” (vol. iv), and, "the world is beyond repair. it shall be born anew from the ashes of the last” (vol. vi); dainsleif saying “none will escape the flames. see for yourself” but also neuvillette’s character story including “the puppet strings glossed as "divine rules" would one day be burned away by the fires of judgment” when talking about constellations; burning away the old world, project stuzha by the fatui and the image of dottore burning the irminsul; nahida saying fontaine's prophecy was engraved in the irminsul, implying the tree also contains the history of the future; sibylla, a prophetess who guarded the irminsul in an ancient city located in what later became the high seas (referred to as abyssal depths). she sacrificed her life for the sake of creating phobos, remus' grand symphony, but her lack of a will ultimately caused the project to fail, as her vague desire to "grant happiness to all in the world who are called humans" caused phobos to attempt to satisfy everyone's desires — including destructive and selfish ones — and set remuria towards the course of its self-destruction (possibly tying concepts of will and fate together); thinking of dottore's plan, it would make sense to burn the tree that holds memories with a fire able to erase them (arlecchino's balemoon powers) so that the world can be born anew breaking away from the shackles of fate.

there’s also the improvisation kaeya does during the play in his hangouts. "do you believe in fate? if fate decreed your life was to end in tragedy, what would you do?". he then throws a prop and we interact, choosing if we would face our fate bravely or challenge it and rise above it. kaeya then goes on saying "then so must it be! yes, so must it be! i shall discard this intaglio and rid myself of the shackles of fate", "fate means to send the machinations of war to every corner of the land to fan the flames of conflict till they ungulf the entire world… fate would see my sword tainted with the blood of innocents, that the bright banner of my homeland might fly in every nation known to mankind. but i shall not bow to the will of fate i am no pawn in heaven’s plan. i, qubad, will spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, 'till i breathe my last in a place far from home" and finishes the play with "but i must walk this path, or freedom dies by my hand. goodbye, my tribe and kin. farewell, sweet land of my birth". the prop we get from kaeya, the intaglio, symbolizes the noble origins of prince qubad in the play and the blood-red jewel (blood, red... funny, uh?) is said to be a crystallization of the question kaeya asked us about destiny. furthermore, an intaglio can be a type of engraved gem or metal signet ring.

[rystiel]

just watched the clone high s3 finale if joanfucius breaks up i'm ending it all

[lian-fang-zun]

Having trouble sleeping: ZCG x Reader

Foreword Note:

Does this even,,, count as a fill lmao...I just got inspired by one of @nasuversekinkmeme's older prompts to write a reader insert fic with FSR Zheng Chenggong in FGO's setting and the reader character ended up being a bit thirsty lol... Anyway, uh. Zheng Chenggong is probably also a little OOC even by my usual standards of 'imagining how different he'd be as a Servant compared to his FSR appearance based on historical records' characterization for him, mostly for self-indulgence reasons orz.

-

“[Y/N].”

It was one thing to be awoken by literally anyone else, or any other Servant for that matter – Mash included. But to be woken up by him… It was a surefire way to jolt awake from your state of near-sleep at least, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get the spots out of your line of vision.

Though, being able to focus on Zheng Chenggong’s expression to your side was not…exactly an improvement. Mostly because you immediately felt blood rush to your face upon realizing that he must have seen your hair in disarray, and probably the trail of drool out of the corner of your mouth – something you hastily tried to wipe away when you realized.

“Wh-What…?” you mumbled somewhat defensively, straightening up under the intensity of his stare. “I only fell asleep…”

“And not at your bed, [Y/N],” he replied, arms crossed. “Surely you remember that this is not the first time.”

What else could you do but laugh nervously at this? It wasn’t like he was wrong – you’d developed a bad habit of falling asleep in random places ever since you’d joined Chaldea in the first place, and being at Novum Chaldea has hardly done anything to quell it. Irregular schedules when dealing with Singularities and Lostbelts would do that to a person, even setting aside the AP crashes when the adrenaline brought on by using Golden Apples ran dry.

Not that, of course, that was the only reason for the irregular sleep schedule…

Zheng Chenggong promptly – and undoubtedly inadvertently – made this apparent when he suddenly knelt closer to you and rested a hand on your forehead, a slight crease in his brows as he went on, tone hardening, “And with your state like this – [Y/N], go to bed right now. You’re at your limit.”

“O-Or what?” you stammered back, your retort hindered by how flustered you were by the distance having suddenly closed between you two. It was, in some ways, utterly unfair to have Servants who were exceedingly oblivious to the effects their good looks had on the people around them, and Zheng Chenggong was rather unfortunately one of them. “Wh – What are you gonna do if I don’t?”

It was probably not the smartest question to ask someone who could and has ordered executions – many of them, in fact – without batting an eye for his men’s failures. Or someone who had, once, ordered his firstborn son and his principal wife to be executed – even if it was in a fit of madness, and wasn’t even carried through by his executioners. But you weren’t exactly in a state of mind to be rational about this.

And thankfully, as a Servant, Zheng Chenggong had no intention to repeat that sordid part of his history. Instead, he pulled back, regarding you silently for a moment, before reaching over to hoist you up and over his shoulder.

“Wh – !?”

You yelped, flailing on instinct as he stood up, effortlessly carrying you as he made his way to the library exit. Thankfully, nobody – not even Murasaki – was around on the way there to notice, otherwise this would be even more embarrassing. “What are you doing, Zheng – !?”

“Taking you to bed, of course.”

The way he worded it made it evident he had not the slightest inkling how compromising the current position must have looked, with the way his Master was draped over his shoulder. It was honestly almost infuriating that even after all this time, other Servants – like a certain general of Eastern Wu – had better luck flustering Zheng Chenggong than you did.

But then again…this was probably the closest you’ll ever come to the fantasies that played out in your head the few times you were in bed, often keeping you up all night. Seeing your Servants’ parameters was one thing, but experiencing displays of them was another – and of particular interest most of the time was the Strength parameter.

And B was a particularly high rank for Strength, after all…especially for a Heroic Spirit who was from the 17th century…

In fact, you were so caught up in wondering what else he could do with a high Strength parameter that you didn’t notice when he’d stopped at the side of your bed to deposit you unceremoniously on it. Landing in a heap on your bed was decidedly not a romantic ending to any sort of scenario, imagined or not.

“Ugh…” With a groan, you sat up, trying to glare at approximately where your Servant must be in the darkness of your bedroom. “What was – what was that for?”

A slight clink of the armor he often wore (the only thing between you and tearing off the robes on his body, your traitorous mind reminded you) was all that alerted you before you felt his hands not-so-gently (and yet, with none of the roughness he would have shown most others) push you down into a lying position. There wasn’t any point in resisting the force that it took to do that, so you reluctantly succumbed. At least your pillow and mattress were comfortable as always…

“ – You asked what I would do if you were to refuse to go to bed.” Was that a shift in the darkness? Possibly. You could only guess. “That is my answer.”

One hell of a way to answer that, you thought, even as you snuggled under the covers more to avoid…well, you weren’t sure what you were avoiding. It wasn’t like you could lift yourself out of bed right now to find out.

But your imagination ran a bit wild in the meantime. It was a little easier to do that when you could only barely make out Zheng Chenggong’s outline, and only then through the crack between the door and the doorframe – this made it easier to fill in the details with what you were envisioning. Just because he has armor on doesn’t mean you can ignore how broad his shoulders are…hell, if anything, the shoulder armor really emphasizes it. And that wasn’t even getting into the fact that if one were to somehow manage to pull it all off – the armor, at least – it would be easier to feel at the muscles concealed underneath the robes…

“Master.” The enunciation of your title, crisp and blunt, shattered the trance you were in as you stared ahead at him, not realizing he’d already moved to the door. “Go to sleep.”

“I-I will!” you protested back, even as you made an admirable effort to close your eyes. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him that you finally opened your eyes again, knowing full well you weren’t getting any sleep once again.

Especially since the traitorous thoughts from before only got worse when he wasn’t around.

[averlym]

[asjjohnson]

Ta-da—I've finished the first part of this holiday Danny Phantom ghost story. Which I'd thought of the idea for last year just after Christmas.

---

Phantom stepped into his lair and the glowing green portal vanished behind him.

It had been a good day—tiring, but good. For him, that was.

With a practiced ease, he turned and flopped onto a large melted stump of a stalagmite, as though flopping onto a couch, and put his arms comfortably behind his head.

Valerie may have erected that shield of hers, but he had other methods of getting his fun.

Today he'd blasted an impassable trench all along the circumference of Amity Park. A canyon surrounded by jagged metal.

No one would be able to enter or leave.

It might've been too late to stop Amity Park from having their food and gifts, but their celebrations would be tainted by foreboding. The knowledge of his blockade, of their days of plenty soon transitioning into dwindling supplies and starvation.

A different type of ruin and destruction.

A grin stretched across his face as he imagined it.

But the thought was cut short. An uncomfortable tickle of vapor brushed through his nose and triggered a gasp.

He tensed, and pushed himself up on one elbow, eyes narrowing as he scanned his shadowed surroundings.

His lair was a large cavern, dimly lit by a sourceless glow. The floors were littered with chunks of broken cave formations that he’d left lying after having blasted them apart.

Nothing looked out of place. He saw no movement, and heard only a slow drip of water from the cave ceiling.

No one could enter his lair. He knew this. There were no entrances or exits other than through his own portals.

It must not have been his Ghost Sense after all, but instead a thread of cold air passing by to tickle his nose, or else indigestion.

He shouldn’t have eaten that blob ghost earlier.

He rubbed his nose in annoyance and laid back down.

But he still felt uneasy. A feeling of paranoia, of an imagined something watching.

Simply the idea of someone else being in his personal lair bothered him. It was a place formed from his inner essence. Even he didn’t understand what a cave could mean to him. But, whatever it did mean, it was something deeply personal that he didn’t want to share. A look into his core.

It was a long several minutes before the subject faded from his mind. He began to doze, insubstantial wisps of pleasant dreams pulling him toward sleep and energy recovery. His own laughter. Valerie's face. Jagged metal.

His ear twitched and he started awake before the dreams fully took hold.

There was a noise—very faint, but unnatural to his lair.

It echoed along his walls and ceilings, making it hard to pinpoint the direction.

He stood. And waited. Ectoplasm pumped through his limbs, preparing for a possible confrontation.

The noise grew steadily louder. It was now possible to make out two distinct sounds: the high clinging of chains, and a grating noise of something scrapping against rock.

Then—it was to his left. He spun around.

There, nearly invisible, with glimmering chains draped over his shoulders, was the ghostly form of Vlad Plasmius.

His chest constricted with the shock. "You're gone!" He pushed off of the floor and away from the figure, firing a Ghost Ray straight through its middle. The ray slammed into the far wall. Not even a chain link shifted. An intangiblility that somehow felt unnatural, even for a ghost. He fired again. "You no longer exist!" Another Ghost Ray. "You're a hallucination! You aren't real!"

The figure remained unmoving, hovering with his hands clasped behind his back—visible through his translucent torso. He raised one eyebrow. "Are you quite done, Daniel?"

"What are you?!" Phantom shouted.

"You already know."

It didn't make sense. Plasmius couldn't exist, Phantom had destroyed him a long time ago, the ghost had been completely absorbed.

This figure couldn't be real. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him, or a dream, or a ghost who had followed him through his portal—maybe Amorpho.

But the fear coursing through him said otherwise—said this was the spirit of Plasmius back from oblivion, somehow pulled from his own core. A face he had been certain he would never see again. It couldn't be true. Instinctively, the repercussions of such a thing terrified him. Absolutely and completely.

"You couldn't have at least decorated the place?" the figure asked. "Perhaps some Packers memorabilia? A few pennant banners along the ceiling goes a long way."

Phantom sneered, pushing the fear to the side. "You have no say concerning my lair."

The figure somehow seemed amused by the words.

Phantom glanced at the long chains trailing down to and across the floor. "As though your taste in decoration is any better. What did you do, decide to carry the ruins of your mansion with you?" Broken pieces of gray brick and assorted other objects hung from the chain links like a giant charm bracelet.

The figure looked down at himself. He unclasped his hands and lifted his arms to either side, chains and objects clanking noisily and grinding across the cave floor with the movement.

The figure remained with his arms stretched wide, gazing at Phantom, as though inviting Phantom to examine the chains he wore.

The objects on the chains continued to sway. Broken pieces of gray brick. Books—one with a stylized ghost on the cover, and one with the year 1981 printed across it, but also other books. Cracked picture frames and photos. Quarters—a lot of dangling quarters. Test tubes stained with dried ectoplasm. Small bones, as though from animals. Broken machinery—computer monitors, an incomplete ring of metal that resembled a small Fenton Portal. A red fabric mask. A shredded white t-shirt. A pair of metal gauntlets. And so much more.

"These are the failings I'd gathered in life," Plasmius said. "I carry these burdens with me. My guilt."

Phantom snorted in disbelief. "How is the money a failing?" The coins still looked perfectly usable. He continued to idly run his eyes across the chains. There were also papers and folders—business contracts and deeds. And his eye caught the gleam of a small, familiar ring.

Plasmius's face twisted in hate, his eyes glowing a brighter red.

Phantom unconsciously drifted backward, the fear again coming to the forefront.

Plasmius loudly rattled the chains and screamed, "I wish I had never deceitfully gained one cent! I was a fool! I had traded away everything that mattered!"

The horrible sound of the rattling chains gradually died down and Phantom uncovered his ears, not remembering having covered them.

Plasmius still wore a glare, but he now talked at a normal volume. "You have done much more than I have. Your chains are ten times this long, not counting the ones you have inherited."

For a moment, Phantom imagined he could feel the invisible weight. Imaginary heaviness across his shoulders, and pushing him down toward the floor. Chains from Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton, and from the years of his current existence.

All of the steel beams and other debris surrounding Amity Park, trailing behind him like a king's long coronation robe.

Phantom crossed his arms. "That's ridiculous."

"You say that, but you worry for your fate. Your soul is uneasy. A child realizing there are consequences to his actions, fearing his Father's punishment—"

"I am not a child!" Phantom shouted.

"You will be visited by three spirits—"

"No! You aren't real! None of this is real!"

"Daniel!"

The name was said so firmly, so whiplike, the equivalent of a grounding slap, that Phantom snapped his mouth shut.

"You will be visited by three spirits tonight," Plasmius said. "Your participation is not optional. You will listen to them, go anywhere they want you to go, and observe whatever they want you to observe."

"Do you count as one of the three?" Phantom grumbled.

"You know how the story goes. Three visitors in addition to myself."

"So I'm basically in one of those Scrooge movies."

Plasmius slowly grew more transparent. "You know that isn't the title of the story." His voice grew quieter, fading.

"How would you know whether I do or not," Phantom said to himself. He could never remember the official title.

Plasmius was gone.

Phantom hovered alone in the empty cave chamber.

He whispered, "Bah. Humbug."

[warlordfelwinter]

i will just never be over how much ardbert has the wol's back

[fadebolt]

The pups have finally arrived at their new home, and are already expressing their creativity :D

[answrs]

okay I tried to get shots of it but it was the middle of a raid with all the attack effects and such but! Mega Latios/as has the Submas Sideburns™

-> high speed transport

-> duality schtick (including the smile/frown motif)

-> triangle markings

-> THEM FACE WEDGES

look im Just Saying™

[sagaschan]

If I were to add on to that rant a little more

[pinejay]

and if u look to the left, you'll see the mural of friendship and blue green landscapes. and if u look to the right, you'll see the shrine of women and lesbianism. and straight ahead is the interstellar space exploration exhibit

[frostiifae]

it's so funny how i've circled all the way back around. i used to hate the idea of being associated with anything popular because having feelings on things other people like makes me vulnerable to being criticized by them. and then it turned out that things other people like are good! and now i'm back around to hating being a jalter fan because people don't like jalter the right way

[unproduciblesmackdown]

as ever like: no two things Need to be juxtaposed, much less like material vs material deathmatch Only One Can Be Good, much less am i thinking i have thee objective word on fuckall b/c who does and it's like perfectly boring & unserious whenever someone just throws out Takes that are just "i think...[xyz] is [adjective]" like okay.

but anyways thinking of how, though differing in execution in a lot of ways ofc, deh & bmc start out in a v similar place & explore a journey to self-acceptance from a despairing starting point....it feels like a lot of the hindrance in deh's exploration of its own Theme there is in like, hey. :) hand on your shoulder. it's okay b/c you'll be able to be more normal. whereas w/bmc it's that it's okay b/c you'll be able to be more abnormal

[thatruerealmwalker]

Yu-gi-oh shit post alert-

This makes no context- but hey if your here please check out this Quest over on SV if you like Yu-gi-oh and want context!

[fezwearingjellybananas]

Father's Day

Eobard's plan was simple: bring Barry, Jesse, and Wally into his custody, ensure they get Speed, use said speed to return to the future and forget all this ever happened so he can resume trying to destroy the Flash forever

His plan was meant to be simple. Things rarely stay that way when children and feelings get involved (T, 6.3k words)

The Flash (TV 2014)

Eobard Thawne, Wally West, Jesse Wells, Barry Allen

*warning for major character death (off-screen)

A prequel/sequel to Trio because I am so, so bad at saying "I'll finish this first then think about it" and actually sticking to that

Jesse was tugging on his trouser leg. Eobard wasn't sure the fond smile was entirely fake any more.

Professor wasn't just a title he'd given himself, no matter what the Flash had thought, he'd earned it. Admittedly, his students had been far older than little five-year-old Jesse, and few and far between, but he didn't dislike children. He hadn't interacted with them much since he'd been one, but that was circumstance rather than choice, and he'd have avoided every kind of person if he could at one point. He even had one somewhere, though not one that had ever been introduced to him. An ill advised affair and most unbecoming of the Thawne name his father had scolded, while his mother had sworn Eobard would make a terrible parent and it would be cruel to leave a child in his care.

If only they could see the three he had now.

[Continued on AO3]