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ryin-silverfish · 5 months

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LMK Fanfic: The Wild Son

AO3 Mirror

Nezha-centric one-shot. Or, "how the Third Lotus Prince learns to stop worrying and enjoy the exploration of death."

CW for suicide and extensive discussions of it. Similar to my previous story, this is very FSYY-inspired, which is shorthand for "pretty fucked-up".

Y'know, with the novel's version of Nezha's suicide being the most graphic and all.

...

The Devaraja of the North has a wild son, who bows not to his father, only the Buddha. The Buddha knows of his stubborn unreason, and sets upon his father's left hand, a pagoda.

——Su Zhe, "Nezha"

Over the years, he had really come to loathe That Look.

You know, when these brats (technically, all mortals are kids to him) learned of his suicide and just gaped at him in wide-eyed horror. Usually followed by an "I'm so sorry" or "It's not your fault" or the slightly less grating "Man, your father sucks."

Duh, Dragonhorse Girl. Duh. But anyone who talked shit about Li Jing was in his good books, and he could at least appreciate Mei's straightforward nature.

Still, whatever prior impressions he left, he knew he was now seven years old and hurting again in their eyes, and would never stop being so.

And it drove him nuts, because 1) it didn't even hurt all that much, and 2) why is offing yourself suddenly such a big deal? Apart from some ol' Confucian bores' rants about unfilial conduct, no participants in the War of Investiture had ever batted an eye at his death and resurrection; the problem was with what he did immediately afterward.

That said, death in the War of Investiture wasn't final, logical, or that big a deal either, until it suddenly was.

...

Unlike killing, death didn't get less confusing even after you've kicked the bucket once. Nor was spending your time as a spooky ghost and getting your godhood rudely interrupted helpful, when it came to understanding the boundary between gods and ghosts, and how some people could come back but not the others.

Well, according to The Patricidal 7-years-old's Guide to Death and Deification:

People die when they get killed.

At which point they turn into a ghost, and float around going "Woe is meeeeee!" for a while before moving on to their next lives.

Unless they don't want to move on. In that case, they just haunt the living out of spite, and to get free stuff.

But wait! If enough people treat the ghost like a god and give them offerings, they'll become one and...dunno, make a new body outta faith or something.

If someone's name is on The List, it's totally okay to kill them because they'll become gods after death.

Wait, isn't that dragon prince's name on The List too? Then why is his dad so angry when he killed him?

And sometimes, a Daoist master just pops a pill into the recently dead guy's mouth and they are alive again.

It took him a surprisingly long time to realize that The List was not all it's cracked up to be, and was basically the Poor Man's Godhood. Or that knowing someone would come back in the end didn't make their absence hurt any less. Or that they could come back, but would remain forever out of reach, shackled by the duties of godhood and the chains of causes and consequences.

And even when a quick resurrection was possible, every death scarred the soul, making it fray and tear at the seams. Seven was the maximum. After dying and coming back seven times like poor Senior Uncle Jiang Ziya, not even The List could take your soul without it exploding into a billion little ghostfires that had more in common with ambience Qi than any living spirits.

He wondered if his inability to understand this fuss around offing yourself had something to do with a scar, too.

But which one? Was it the first and most gruesome one, where returning your flesh and blood also meant ripping out the itty bitty pieces of souls that were embedded in them, clinging to your father and mother like muscle membranes on a bone? Was it the one that looked like an ugly crack on a gilded statue, widening, spreading, until it shattered altogether? Was it not a single scar, but a bunch of little holes in his essence, like wormbites on a leaf, or a pool of oozing sludge left by the Blood-melting Knife?

Assuming he still had a soul in the first place, of course. Maybe instead of a soul, there's only one huge patch of scar tissue where his three souls and seven spirits used to be, red and fibrous and angry.

Yeah, try pulling *that* out of his body with a spell, suckers.

...

A popular god gains new domains like new year gifts. Namely, you seldom receive the ones you want, are stuck with the ones you were tired of, and have no idea where that pile over there even came from.

Sun Wukong shared a domain with him as the protector of youth, a fact he was strangely okay with. He took the silly and mischievous ones, while Nezha dealt with the moody, rebellious ones. An amicable arrangement, as far as dispute between overlapping domains went; were they ever to switch places, the result would be a disaster.

This, however, was when a joint operation would be really helpful.

Alas, he had no such luck. So here he was, sitting in the Megapolis Children's Hospital's inpatient ward, next to a girl with owl-like eyes and tubes inside her nose, who asked him "Being dead, what does that even mean?"

...

Nothing, 'cause it's something that happens to other people. That was how he would have answered this question, back when he was still a real kid, and not an 18-foot-tall immortal plant construct who could choose to look like a kid.

He did wish people would recognize him as something other than "god of youth", though. Or realize his older forms existed too. Somehow, when Jinzha's master appeared as a little boy with five hair buns, people didn't stop worshipping Old Dude Wenshu or Graceful Bodhisattva Wenshu, but one too many adaptations later, Nezha was just THE Kid God, and not also the Three-headed Six-armed War God of Setting Things On Fire.

Bah.

But this was about Nezha the human (was he ever human, though, with the whole Spirit Pearl thing?) and Nezha the kid, not Nezha, Marshal of the Central Altar. Who didn't quite realize death was real, as in, a thing you should try to avoid for both yourself and others, and had been told that it was his destiny to dish out death to people in some epic upcoming war.

Master Taiyi, bless the old immortal, was a perfect case of someone who clearly cared so much, yet still managed to fuck up so badly.

For all his grudges against Jinzha's master (less about the whipping, and more about his damn cat killing the Jade Emperor), Wenshu made some good points: You did not tell a kid that you would protect him from all the consequences of his actions, then set him loose and expect him to not wreak havoc on unintended targets.

...

"What do you mean?"

He'd admit, this was not his finest hour. You weren't supposed to answer a question with a question, at least not in a way that didn't make you seem all mysterious and wise.

"I..." She trailed off. "I mean, I feel dead people all the time. Brushing past me, being all chilly and stuff. Since I'm gonna be joining you guys soon, I just wanna know...how it's like." The corner of her mouth twitched; either a grimace, or an attempt at smiling. "And you feel nicer than the others. Warmer, too."

He was no god of medicine, no matter how much he wished he could be one right now. Yet he could see the flames of her three souls, dimming with every passing second, as well as the blocks in her Qi flow, with one right behind her eyelids. Her sight was already gone, and in a week, these flames would go out entirely.

Sickness, he could heal, but not a passing ordained by the Book of Life and Death. As tempting as it was to pull a Sun Wukong, if he was to remove the name of one person, what was stopping him from removing another? And another? Before he knew, he'd be striking the name of every good person off it, and only chaos could result from that.

His gaze shifted to a small charm, fastened onto the bedframes with red strings. Made of peachwood, glowing gently in his vision, accompanied by the wisps of a prayer. Please watch over her, and take away her pain. Please don't let her face this alone.

Slowly, he extended a hand towards her, a tiny spark of pink flame dancing on his fingertip. If there were still ghosts in this room that hadn't fled when he first came in, they were definitely gone by now, as the darkness dispered in a surge of Yang-aligned Qi.

"...Wow." She visibly relaxed, with a sigh. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Are you...also a kid, when you...you know? You sound like one."

"Yeah. But I've been dead for a long time. Long before this hospital was built." He let out a dry laugh. "I guess you could say I'm a professional at this whole 'death' thing."

"Huh. I thought after a while, people just...move on."

"They do, if they aren't trying to avoid the ghost cops. The Heibai Wuchang," he said. "Nowadays, they dress like cops too, but they show up for everyone, to take them to the Underworld. Not just bad ghosts that need to be arrested."

"What's the Underworld like?"

"Dunno. Never been down there." This was partially true. At the time of his death, the Underworld bureaucracy did not exist yet. Most of his knowledge of its workings came from chatting with Huang Tianhua, whose father was deified as the King of Mt.Tai, former head of the Ten Kings. "But you seem like a good egg, so they would send you straight to the Naihe Bridge, and onto your next life."

"That's...good to hear," she said. "I wanna know more about the, uh, ghost part, though. Does it stop hurting when you die? I've been...hurting for so long, I'm starting to forget what it's like, before...this."

"Yeah, the pain stops," he answered, "but so does everything else. You just stop feeling things altogether. Smell, touch, warm and cold and all that jazz." He paused. "Being a ghost is very, very boring."

"And you still don't wanna go with the ghost cops?"

"Well, I killed myself, and that gets you stuck in the City of Wrongful Death." He blurted out, before realizing that this was the worse moment to be honest, and braced himself for the awkwardness to come.

"Sounds like an awful place."

"Pretty much. They said it was just full of depressed ghosts, being depressing together," he chuckled. "Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll pass."

"Glad I didn't...go through with it, then." She said, then quietly added, "I nearly did, when the pain got too much, and the cost just kept rising."

Well, that wasn't quite what he expected. But he wasn't too surprised, either.

...

They thought his suicide was an act of despair. It was insulting, honestly. Both to the strength of his will and spite, and his unconventional problem solving skills.

See, when people said that your body and skin and hair were given to you by your parents, the implicit message was So you can't do anything to them, and They own you, every bit of you, and above all, Obey.

You weren't supposed to give them back, not so flippantly. Yet it was the simplest, most obvious solution, in the same way beating up the dragon king who tried to sue you was. (Guess he really was Taiyi's student.)

At the heat of the moment, it was quite thrilling. Almost liberating. Like a snake shedding its skin, a baby bird breaking out of its eggshells. As the raging storm and roaring tides drowned out Fate and Destiny's ever-tolling bells, for a second, he really felt like this was the end.

No more Spirit Pearl, no more unruly child, woe of his mother, doom of his lineage. No more Li Jing, no more questionable advices from Taiyi, no stupid dragon kings, and none of that Vanguard of the Zhou Army crap. Just a kid sacrificing himself, laughing and laughing until he chocked on his own blood.

Just Nezha.

But obviously, things didn't end here. Death rarely was the true end, nor did it tie things up neatly, like cutting through a knot with a sword. It was more akin to what you got when you broke a lotus root in half, full of sticky, near-invisible threads, stretching on and on between the scattered pieces.

...

Believe it or not, this wasn't the first time he had to deal with suicide, kids, or suicidal kids. Especially after gaining one of his more recent domains. He is the protector of all young people, regardless of who they fancy or whether their bodies match their souls, it was just that those who didn't fit the common denominator tended to get a lot of shit for existing.

(As annoying as the "Third Princess" nickname was, he had no problem with people finding strength and comfort in his legends, in severing ties, defying norms, and blossoming inside a changed body. After all, that was what gods were; a mirror that reflected the worshippers' beliefs and needs back at them.)

A few decades ago, he was summoned by a teen, standing on the bank of a river, holding a stick of incense. Dunno where, just that it was a Hokkien-speaking area and one of his temples was nearby.

They gave him a hopeful look when he showed up, emerging out of the water like an actual lotus plant, yet remaining miraculously dry. As hopeful as someone in their circumstance could manage, at least.

"Is it okay if I ask you to curse my parents?"

"If that's what you want, you are praying to the wrong god," he replied. "And the kind of gods who accept such requests will make you pay a price you are never ready for."

"Damn. Guess I'll just have to come back and haunt them myself, then."

They knelt down to stick the incense into the mud, then started wading their way into the shallows. He sighed, and they were promptly dragged back by his red sash, struggling furiously.

"Let go of me!" They screamed, muddy water splashing beneath their sneakers. "W-Why? I don't get it! Why are YOU stopping me? You, of all gods! The child who hacked himself to pieces, and tried to kill his asshole dad——"

"And got a burning pagoda dropped on him for his troubles." He said flatly. "Need I remind you that it all took place a thousand years ago, and I'm no longer out for his blood?"

"Oh, so they'd beaten it out of you! Good for you, I guess." They snapped. "But not me. Why would you even care if a freak like me died or not?"

"gin-na, you just admit you are gonna become a vengeful spirit. And I literally have 'subduing demons and harmful spirits' in my job description. So maybe, maybe, I'm gonna have a problem with that?"

"Even if they totally have it coming?" They retorted. The first two buttons of their collars had come loose in the struggle, exposing the ugly patch of bruised purple around their neck, as well as implications of worse things. "I thought gods were all for karmic justice."

"Especially if they have it coming," he said. "Which is why I'm stopping you. It's not gonna work."

"What does that even mean?"

"Ugh. Look. Suppose I let you drown, without alerting any ghostly officials. Suppose that you come back, haunt your parents night and day, and don't get yourself exorcised. Suppose that you inflict on them the same torment you were subjected to, and drive them to madness or some other gruesome ends." He said. "Then what? What are you gonna do afterwards?"

"I'll just...move on, I guess."

"To do that, you 'll have to cross the Naihe Bridge. And the Underworld officials won't let you off the hook that easily, not after you've accumulated all this negative karma by haunting the living." He shook his head. "I heard they take 'Hell is other people' quite literally, and punish people who hated each other by throwing both parties into the same Minor Hell, giving them a pile of lethal weapons, and resurrecting whichever side that gets killed. Over and over again."

He leaned closer. "Is that what you really want? Getting stuck in the same pit with your parents for centuries to come? Mind you, even if you get tired of the violence, you are not allowed to quit until the Underworld officials let you."

Came to think of it, that was the War of the Investiture in a nutshell. No one was allowed to quit, not even in death.

"...No," they mumbled, after a long silence. "But it's still tempting. At least I'll get to do something to them."

"Well, here's a thing you can do to them."

"What?"

"Live."

"That's it? Seriously?" They stared at him in disbelief. "Because I own it to them? Because my very existence is a mistake or something?"

"No. Because you own it to yourself," he said, "and it is only a mistake if you believe so, and if they think you are a mistake, there's no better way to prove them wrong and rub it in their faces than keep existing. Think of it like this——you ain't gonna help them get rid of you, are you?"

"Well, if you put it that way..." they paused. "But I'll still be depriving them of their favorite punching bag, at least."

"Is that what you think you are?"

"It's what I have been for the past few years."

"Yeah, sorry, but hell no. You can be way, way more than that." He grinned. "Why be a punching bag, when you can be their worst nightmare instead?"

"I thought you don't want me to haunt my parents?"

"Oh, no. You are gonna drive them nuts in a whole different manner: by growing into a successful, well-adjusted adult they no longer have any power over," his grin widened, "And watch them age into bitter, miserable old farts who'll die alone and forgotten, knowing that the moment they die, they'll be dragged straight into one of the Hells in chains, suffer for untold eons, and probably spend their next life as ants."

"That is...satisfying, not gonna lie." They bit into their lips. "But until then, I'll still be stuck with them. Thanks for the reassurance, though."

"Does that mean if I let go of you now, you aren't gonna dash into the river?"

Upon receiving a nod, he whistled, and his sash loosened around the teen, floating back onto his shoulders. They staggered back; he prepared himself, watching out for tensed muscles and all the little tells of someone who was going to make a run for it. Thankfully, he spotted none, as they retreaded their steps back onto dry land, one muddy footprint at a time.

He wasn't entirely convinced that they wouldn't change their mind later, but it was a good start. And he had just the idea to make it an even better start.

His fingers started twisting in a mudra, weaving together threads of pink and golden light into the shape of his signature seal. No, he definitely didn't enjoy the kid's quiet gasp of wonder, as a lotus-patterned token fell out of thin air and right into his hands. It wasn't like he was a show-off or anything, unlike that ape.

"Here. Take this. Go to—" He paused and cursed himself. Dammit, he kept forgetting that mortals couldn't just sense temples and their giant beacons of faith. "Do you know there's a temple over there?" He pointed east, "Like, in that direction?"

"You mean Taizi Gong? Yeah." They nodded. "Grandma used to take me there."

"If you ever need a meal, or a place to stay the night, just show this token to the staff, and they'll help you out." He narrowed his eyes, and said the next sentence very slowly. "Also, if your life is ever in serious danger, like, no-time-to-call-the-cops danger, just hold it tight, say my name, and point it at whatever is threatening you. Do. Not. Use. It. Lightly. Understood?"

He intentionally let out a bit of his killer aura, as he uttered the last few words. Not hard to muster, considering the circumstances that first drove him to develop this token system. It was always awful when he was too late in his interventions, but he swore to the Three Pure Ones, if anyone ever triggered the spell with a prank call, when he arrived at the scene, they'd wish they got caught in the explosions instead.

They paled and nodded in quick succession, then started to turn away. Before remembering something, and coming to a halt mid-step.

"I...I don't even know how to thank you." They shook their head. "If it was too early for that. If 'Thanks' is even enough. But if you are right and I do find my way out of this mess, I'm building you a temple, Third Prince."

...

A temple. Build me a temple, mother. Build me a temple, mother, for I'm cold without a body, hungry without a stomach. He remembered himself crying out, once. Build me a temple so I can be back at your side again, isn't that what you want? What you said you would give up everything for, as you picked up my pieces and buried them in a shallow grave?

Build me a temple, or you'll never know peace again.

The most frustrating part wasn't how much he sounded like the sorts of ghosts he'd beat up later, a lot, as Marshal of the Central Altar. It was the lack of context. As in, there was no memory of the before and after. Just words echoing in a vaccum, with neither pain nor sensations attached.

It was the same whenever he helped a mortal. It was the feeling he got when, twenty years later, he stood in front of a temple gate, watching the person in a suit cut the red ribbons during its opening ceremony, and thought, I've done something like this before, long ago, inside my first temple.

But I can't remember what it was, or for whom.

He knew that was how ghosts became gods. Three souls attracted by the fragrance of incense, seven spirits nourished by the ashes of burnt offerings. Ten shades of a person, molded back together into something more than the sum of its parts, by countless mud-stained, callused hands, clasped together in prayer.

He'd watched it happen before, on the coasts of Fujian. Little Lin Mo Niang, disappearing beneath the waves, only to rise out of the tides later as Mazu, guiding fisherfolks and sailors to shore with her gentle red light, just like she did in life.

Or maybe he had more in common with Guan Yu. The fugitive, the warrior with the might of a thousand man, the loyal companion. Who, despite his promise in the peach garden, did not die on the same day as his sworn brothers. Specifically, how his vengeance and fury used to hang over Jingzhou like a plague, how his name was once whispered in fear, before it became the synonym of loyalty, brotherhood and martial virtue.

Perhaps ghosts became gods when mortals poured pieces of themselves into them, filling up the holes in their psyche. Making them more human than they ever were, and could be.

Thanks to Li Jing's destruction of his idol, he'd never know.

That——that was what sent him onto his roaring rampage of revenge, right after reviving in his lotus body. After everything else had been bled dry, rage was all he had. Like thick black tar, sticking to the bottom of a broken jar.

...

"What stopped you?" He asked, without really knowing why.

"My legs. Literally. They don't work anymore. And I'm...gonna die anyways, it's not really worth the effort..." Her breath hitched in her throat, yet she still managed to squeeze out the last few words, "Then my mom came back."

"I...I'm still a little mad that she left in the first place, like, long before this. But she had a nice singing voice, when she wasn't crying, and," she sighed, "didn't start arguing with dad again. She said I had a new little brother, and showed me the photos...and I was just like, hey, he looks like a raisin, and they laughed, and I haven't heard either of them laugh in a long, long time..."

She was starting to look dazed, stuck in that liminal space between dream and awakeness.

"And I, I wouldn't mind hurting a lil' longer, if it means I get to have more moments like that."

What if you don't? A part of him wanted to ask. What if those moments are no more than baits on a straight hook, carrots on a stick, making it so that you are willing to hurt longer and longer until it's not even fleeting happiness you seek, just the mere promise of release?

But that was the bitterest, crueler part, and it could fuck right off.

"I'm sure they are glad to have you, too." In the end, that was all he managed to say, in a whisper she might or might not have heard, and only got a small yawn in return.

"Well, you sound like you're about to doze off. So I won't keep you up any longer," he said. "Any last questions, before I go?"

"What do you...look like?"

"Huh?"

"When I die, I'll get to...see things again, right?" She asked. "And you can't be the only kid here. Just...wanna...go over and say hello, before the ghost cops come."

"Oh, I'm very recognizable. You don't see a lot of folks with twin hair buns nowadays." He laughed softly. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll be right here, inside this very room."

"Thanks," she nodded. "G-G'night, ghost friend."

"Farewell, and sleep tight."

...

When did you stop being fun? Sun Wukong asked him, once.

When you started being nothing but jokes, he wanted to scream back. When you shut yourself in your cave for five hundred years to take a depression nap, while I drain just as much power answering the prayers of mortals as I get from their worship, and my true body is stuck guarding the fire that burn away worlds. When Yang Jian had stopped giving a crap about everything that happened outside of his precious Sichuan, me included.

When I grow the fuck up, monkey. We all do, sooner or later, yet you never seem to.

But then he remembered the look on Sun Wukong's face, as the mountain came down. A look he had seen on the faces of so many souls, as they were called up the Terrace of the Investiture.

It was Ao Guang clutching onto his son's tendons with trembling, scaly hands. It was his mother kneeling in the dirt, begging for his life and unlife. It was him handing Huang Tianhua's head back to Huang Feihu. The eldest of Zhao Gongming's three sisters, muttering a quiet "Sorry, brother" before she was swept away by Lao Tzu's scroll. Guang Chengzi looking Yin Jiao in the eyes, as they dragged his plow up the hill.

It was a monk postponing his Buddhahood in favor of the path of the Bodhisattva, swearing a vow that, for every life, he should learn the meaning of compassion anew, and teach it to others.

A pig who was once a marshal, too weighed down by his desires to attain enlightenment, who nonetheless went on to live a good life, full of good food and few regrets.

A soldier made into a monster after one simple mistake, who decided he was better than that, and, with quiet determination, followed his brother and master into samsara as their guardian.

It was a white dragon, destined to set things aflame and be consumed by flames, yet burning brightly all the same, a goofy grin on his face.

So he just gritted his teeth and kept on fighting. It was what he was made for, what he always did.

And it wasn't enough.

...

But when was anything ever enough? When did Fate or Destiny ever pat anyone on the head, and tell them they did a good job, and they'd be free of suffering, just like that?

When were there ever easy answers, for mortals and gods alike?

Azure Lion thought there would be one, that the right person on the throne could magically make it all better, and he shattered trying to make himself into that person.

One step at a time. One answer at a time. A promise kept, a visit made. That was how you do it.

After all, the great lump of molten colors Nüwa used to seal the cracks in the sky——they were but little pebbles too, once upon a time.

...

"Told you I'll be here." That was the first thing he said, as he unsummoned his wheels and sat down in midair, cross-legged.

"Oh. Well. I," The translucent girl let out a small laugh. She tried to scratch her head, before realizing she couldn't anymore. "I certainly wasn't imagining this, when you said 'twin hair buns'."

"Do you have reasons to, though?" He asked. "People usually don't see the Third Lotus Prince on their deathbeds."

"No. But it's pretty obvious in hindsight, with the warmth and all these little hints." She shook her head. "Dangit. Now I just feel kinda dumb. Still, it's good to see you again, sir...Third Prince?"

"Nezha would do. I suppose I make much better company than the ghost cops, right?"

Behind the hospital screen, the man wearing a tall black hat grumbled something about people not appreciating their jobs, before being cut off by a "Ha! Checkmate, Lao Fan!"

"Yeah. It's a little distracting when you were dying, and two guys were just having a chess game five feet away," she said. "The cheerful one is a better player, though."

"Only because you keep giving him tips!" The man snarked back. "How does it feel like to cheat via a dying kid, Xiao Xie? I bet you feel real proud of yourself right now."

"How does it feel like to lose to a dying kid?" His colleague laughed, sticking his tongue out way further than any living humans were capable of, or comfortable with. "She gave you tips too, you just aren't good enough to use them well. And she's good. Real good. This one thinks she may just be a chess champion in her next life!"

"Thank you, Mister Xie. I learned it from my grandpa."

It was such a blessing that these two didn't exist yet, at the time of his death. As grim and thankless as their duties were, Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu were also the most annoying pair of ghosts he ever met, the former taking nothing seriously and the latter taking everything way too seriously.

"Hey. You two, shut up and show some respect." He snapped, before turning to the girl. "I'm sorry you have to endure their presence."

"That's right, Xiao Xie! Even the Third Lotus Prince tires of you and your constant jesting!"

"This one thinks if we pay our proper respect to everyone that has ever died, we'll have no time to actually do our job." Xie chuckled. "Besides, he is clearly talking about the one who is constantly yelling, and incapable of losing gracefully. But alright, this one shall do as you command."

"...Let's go talk somewhere else." He sighed. "These two clowns are giving me a headache."

She giggled a little, as the screen parted with a wave of his hand, revealing the two psychopomps sitting on the nearby bed. "Their hats do look like clown hats."

"The clowns can hear you, you know?" Fan snarked, before picking up his baton and making a gesture in their direction. "Whatever. Begone. And remember our deal: you have four hours. Not a second more, not a second less. Understood?"

"Did you just admit to being a clown too?" Xie grinned. "This one does think a red nose will suit you well."

"Sometimes I seriously wonder why I ever agreed to become your sworn brother, Xiao Xie."

He led the girl out of the room, just as medical personnels started coming in, carefully concealing his presence from the mortals' eyes. The girl made a face when her hand passed through the doorframe, but quickly recovered.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you like." He replied. "Your home, your old school, that really cool arcade or amusement park you never get a chance to visit...and you don't have to choose one. Distance is not a factor at all," with a blaze of pink fire, his wheels were back under his boots again, "when I'm the god of speedy drivers. So take your time."

"Hmmm. I think," she said, after a long silence, "I wanna go see my mom, and my little brother first. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Let's be on our way, then."

"Alright. Leeeego!"

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanfiction #nezha #lmk nezha #journey to the west #investiture of the gods

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yujeong · 6 months

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A WIP self-callout post based on this meme—thank you so much @wretchedamaranth 🥺 It's always fun for me to talk about my WIPs (even when I'm not doing much progress with them haha *cries*) WIP I'm actually working on: Ahh.. to be perfectly honest, none. I mostly write down ideas and snippets that come to me about the gazillion fics I want to write. I hope that one day, I'll be able to focus on a specific one, and finish it. WIP I keep open in the background so I don't feel guilty: My VP somno fic. Obviously. It haunts my dreams at this point. Imaginary project: Hmm, I don't know how to answer that, because by imaginary, I assume it's an idea you haven't started writing yet, which doesn't apply to me because I've written notes and snippets about every idea I have. I'll just say every other VP smut idea I have besides the somno one, I guess. In my mind, they've mostly been written. On paper though, eehh... Passion project: My Kim&Pete series 😭 I love it so fucking much, these idiots mean so much to meeeeee. I want my brain to cooperate so I can finally start working on the second installment again, and then go to the third one, which will take place during the 1-month time skip we got in canon. So many wonderful angsty scenarios waiting to be written 🥹 WIP from 3 months ago: My Ep13 Pete-centric missing scene fic 😇 This one will be very short and I decided to start writing it on a whim - as I do with most of my ideas tbh - so, if I truly get down to it, I can have at least the first draft finished pretty soon. I love the idea a lot, so I hope I'll manage to do that. Side WIP: My TeeWhite fic about how White came to agree to go to the trip with Tee 🥳 I love the potential of this idea a lot, but I've set a rule on myself that I'll post at least one of my VP ideas before continuing to work on this one, so it'll take a few more months before it's posted. As you can see, I'm a canon type of girl. I love it when a show intrigues me so much that I want to explore its world and characters, so these are the kinds of fics I mostly write. No pressure tagging @xpi-x-elx, @mightymightygnomepriest, @fleet-off, @suzteel, @lu-sn, @thisautistic, @vegaseatsass and anyone else who might want to do this ❤️

#I wasn't kidding when I said I have trouble writing this year #I believe this post showcases that clearly lol #Thank you for the tag my friend you're the one who's gonna suffer from all of this in the end #I'll try to not drive you insane hahah #ask game #yu is writing

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mintytealfox · 7 months

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Shadows house angst time! Hehehehe

So, Shadow! Norton and Shadow! Alice get invited into the adults wing, but since they're adult now you know what that means..... Unification process that Doll! Norton and Doll! Alice will 100% not survive!

So in the end, Shadow! Alice and Shadow! Norton will be racked up with guilt over essentially killing not only their care taker, but also their best friend and "other half", and essentially becoming each other's therapy session! Hooray!

ANOOONNNNN ANONNN NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

WHY AHVE YOU DONE THIS YOU HAVe DESTROYED MEEEEEE 🤣🤣🤣🤣 -CRYING IN THIS HOUSE TONIGGHHHTTTT-

Gosh DANG IT LOL this is so saaaaaaaad ;;

Now I am imagining ghost Norton and Alice just watching like Alice: 'I feel like we should have called this a long time ago' Norton: 'yea...' Alice: 'that's too bad' Norton: 'well, I've decided, he can feel bad all he wants. I am going to haunt him; that idiot took my body'

#you have made me sad anon lol #🤣🤣🤣 SHAME SHAME JK JK #now I want to draw ghost norton #👀👀👀👀#norton campbell #alice deross #nortalice #ask #asks #minty answers #minty speaks

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purrtyhatemachine · 2 years

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OK time to rate all the songs on grace then. from fav fav to least fav (but still fav) hehe

OMG how could you make me do this this is HARD

Ok here we go 🤓☝️ maybe these are basic answers? But idc (also…it definitely changes from time to time)

1. Lover, You Should’ve Come Over. THIS SONG BREAKS ME its gotta be one of my favorite songs ever. The lyrics, the instrumentals, the SOUL. Im with you jeff </3

2. Last Goodbye. KISS MEEE PLEEASE KISS MEEEEEE!!!!!!! SO FUCKING GOOD ARE U KIDDING

3. Forget Her. Including this because even though it’s not on the original release of the album, it IS on the spotify version. (i wish it was on the CD i have :( ) God I love the blues-iness? Of this song and the BRIDGEE THE BRIDGE

4. Mojo Pin. again, the BRIDGE

5. Grace. I think this one and Mojo Pin are about tied! But i guess i rank this one lower bc i overplayed it soo much last year

6. So Real. so beautiful…almost haunting?

7. Lilac Wine. u knowww i wasnt a big fan at first bc im usually not much of a “slow” music person. But it’s suchh a pretty song, and now i love it <3

8. Eternal Life. Love, but I love the road version even more

9. Hallelujah. Of course I love it, but it’s a bit overplayed lol

10. Dream Brother. A beautiful song!!! I’m not really sure why I rank it so low, I guess i just love the other songs a lot

11. Corpus Christi Carol. This is another one that i didnt rlly like at first…its definitely grown on me, his voice is lovely, but it’s very different from the other songs

I’m curious to know your ranking as well!!!

#god i LOVE HIM #if grace has 1 fan its me #if grace has 0 fans im dead #jeff buckley #grace #music #THE. ALBUM. EVER #grace 1994 #ask

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fabbyf1 · 1 year

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POWERBOTTOM LANDO?! Give it to meeeeee! I need to know more, tell us the details girl

HAHAHAHAHA Why did I know this was going to be the first question.

I'm dabbling with the idea of writing a short lil, dirty lil, filthy lil Carlando oneshot. Please don't look me directly in the eyes, okay? This is actually @oicawas's fault. As most of my slutty tendencies are.

HERE'S A LITTLE SNIPPET... please remember that this is very much a WIP and not at all edited to perfection yet. (that's @takenquicklys's job, anyway. not at all my problem.)

The best and worst part about Lando Norris was his mouth.

Carlos loved everything about his mouth.

He loved listening to Lando talk in his stupid British accent, the way he mispronounced words and stumbled over himself in interviews. He loved making Lando laugh, that high pitch squeal whenever he really got going.

But Lando also used his mouth for evil.

Because sometimes, he would turn to Carlos in the middle of a crowded room and say the most out-of-pocket things he had ever heard.

Things that would stick with him and haunt his dreams.

Things he’d think about late at night when he had a hand down his pants.

At first, Carlos thought it was just his innocence coming through. Maybe he didn’t realize how very not normal it was to say dirty things like that to your bro in public. He knew that Lando could be shy and introverted sometimes and that he didn’t grow up having many friends. Maybe he just didn’t realize the etiquette. Maybe he didn’t realize that you shouldn’t turn to your bro dude in the middle of a debrief and whisper things like, “Do you like eating ass?”

lmfao thoughts?????

#WIP #snippet

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gingerpeachtea · 3 months

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you immediately got what i was going for thank you that head turn has been haunting me since i first saw it

NOW IT’S HAUNTING MEEEEEE god he couldn’t even look at her HE COULDNT EVEN LOOK AT HERRRR AND SHE MADE HIM LOOK ANYWAY. FUCKKKKKKK MY LIFEEEEE

#asks

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sillyhubris · 4 years

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I have the url strawberry-tart saved and im thinking about changing it for a bit but blueberry pie is so iconic i’ve had this url for so long... gays what do you think

#personal #really i just need whoever has blueberrypie on a hidden blog or something to give it to MEeeeee grabby hands #tumblr user blueberrypie stick em up #there isnt even a blog when u go to that url. my life will never be complete i will haunt this plane as a ghost because of it #UPDATE user strawberrytart posted some anime gifs in 2017 and hasnt been active since then. give it to meeeeeee

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heavensarch · 6 years

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starcfchaos replied to your post: ooooookay , soooooo , hypothetically speaking...

omg you should def do it. cough cassandra will want to fight her cough

chinhands well i definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that

#⁽ Σ ⁾ τελείωσε ⋮ ooc .#starcfchaos #give this to meeeeee #they can even interact in the astral chaos if you want #cassandra can either slowly come to suspect something shifty is going on #or maybe the longer cassandra is with sophie in the astral chaos the more she senses there's something more to this #i mean ?? lady who looks like soph ?? who has crystal powers that eerily looks like what's encasing sophie's body ??#or maybe when cassie is asleep elysium is like haunting her dreams #trying to make the connection between the sisters weaker aka elysium *wants* cass to ditch sophie's body #either way elysium's going to be passive aggressive awful to cass because in another life cass destroys the spirit sword #and that is no bueno to elysium #no bueno at all #talk hcs with me on discord vi #long tags for ts

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coffin-flop · 3 years

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Season two of itysl really just hits differently

#in a GOOD way #i think its bc i didnt think ANYTHINg would surprise me the was s1 did bc id already seen s1 ya know #but these skits are still just as insane and so funny god i needed this show in my life #im so happy my whole personal life and twitter is obsessed w itsyl #also this season is INSANELY relatable which i hate hahahahahah #fuckinf hot dog guy when lunch gets moved is MEEEEEE if a call goes 5 mins into lunch i go INSANE #and the guy who curses at the haunted house is ME :( Hahahah

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fyregrl · 2 years

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Little bits I love about The Owl House:

Luz beckoning Eda closer to tell her Hooty was trying to help her ask out Amity.

Eda leaning in and sort of shielding Luz with her (new) wing to keep it private.

Luz wearing Eda’s old varsity jacket.

Luz kissing King goodnight.

King asking Luz to kiss Francois (his stuffed bunny/second in command) goodnight too.

King carrying Francois on his head like a lil kid ‘cause he is one.

King literally being eight years old at the beginning of the series I’m not kidding look it up he is nine years old at most.

Eda making a list of chores.

Luz’s Spanish terms of endearment.

Amity learning Spanish from a cook book.

King learning Spanish from Luz.

“THE CAKE IS MEEEEEE!”

King’s little ‘weh’ noise.

Gus’s bucket list including ‘grow a haunted beard’.

Eda carrying King in a baby sling.

“I’m an otter! With a dark side!”

Hunter making a face and going ‘uuuuhhhhhhhhh.....’ when Eda says his friend wants to talk to him.

Hunter’s reaction when he realizes it’s Flapjack, ending their exchange with “Stay safe. I love you too.”

Willow, Hooty, and Gus listening to whale noises and k-pop at the same time while Luz is delirious and panicking upstairs.

Eda referring to Luz as her ‘student slash child’

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, stay tuned and feel free to add on : )

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #eda clawthorne #owl lady #king clawthorne #toh hunter

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jlf23tumble · 3 years

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Hi! Do you want to share a list of fics that haunt you? Any pairing! Thank you.

Ohhhh, this is a great ask that I kind of have to rein myself in on because "haunting" can mean angst but also sometimes mean a good time? Meaning you think about it regardless? Anyway, I'll give 21 or so in different categories from off the top of my empty head, thots only, and as usual, a lot of my fave faves are gone, daddy, gone. My other caveat here is that I am DEFINITELY a writer's fan, you can bank on me telling you to obsessively go read anything that, say, Phoenix or Blake have ever written, I can't even choose, tbh, so just do yourself a favor, pick a fandom any of the authors below have written in, and go to town, they're all gems, I say. To keep it fun and spicy, I won't break it down other than by fandom, fuck around and find out, I (also) say!

Let's start with a cheat: gifts for meeeeee! They're all so good, even the ones no longer here, I think about 'em all with a smile

One Direction

Time Passed

Constant Debauchery

Tuxedo Dress-Up

Fertile Ground

call me anything you like, but my name is

hush.

Man From UNCLE

By the Throat

Dog Years

let's start fires for heaven's sake

Mine and Apart

And me underneath

The Untamed

hurricane

Merlin

overwrite this constant void

Star Wars

Burnout

Columbo

In a week (i'll be home with you)

Southern-ish Gothic

A Cornstalk Fiddle

The Young Loves, the True Loves

Snakes and Stones

Cars

As Sweet as Blood Red Jam

Sweet Smell of Success

smoke gets in your eyes

Cobra Kai

Made One Way

#fic rec #one direction #and others!!#the way i could dive DEEP into the unicorns #and other things #but i'm just gonna keep it on a leash #these ones i either thought about a LOT after i read them #or randomly think about them from time to time with angst or smiles #i could go OFF with another hundred probably pretty easily #but none of us have time for that level of scrolling

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echo-hiraeth · 4 years

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Phasmophobia - Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

Summary: Marcus is dating a streamer and finally gets to join in on the fun. Though he isn’t exactly prepared for what’s about to go down.

Warnings: Use of profanity, mentions of the paranormal, mainly fluff

Masterlist

Dating a heroic would bring an array of changes for most people, but being a successful streamer had made you somewhat familiar with the public eye. Not that you were anywhere near as famous as he was, but you were well-off, a couple million followers under your wing. The public was well aware of your successful relationship and Marcus Moreno making showing off his new fiancée was hot news for about a week.

Since the announcement you’d been getting spammed with requests to bring him on for your stream and you finally caved. One of the people that kept nagging about it was Marcus himself, he loved watching you and wanted nothing more than to be a part of it. So eventually, you’d agreed, declaring to your following that he’d be joining you for a special Halloween stream to play some horror games with you.

Tonight was the night and Marcus had been nervously pacing around all day, picking out a new outfit every ten minutes. “Oh my God will you just sit down and eat your dinner!”, you interrupted him.

He walked over to where you were sitting, plopping down on the chair with a heavy sigh. “What if I suck? What if they don’t like me?”

“I like you, I love you even, isn’t that enough?”, you asked, touching your foot to his under the table.

He stuffed a fork full of spaghetti in his mouth. “I mean yeah, but this is important to me! This is my big debut as your sidekick.”

You started laughing, nearly choking on your food. “Okay, okay, well, I’ll go set up and do my make-up, why don’t you get ready?”

You went over your set-up once again, making sure the two computers were running smoothly before walking into your shared bathroom. The make-up you wore for your streams was simple, just some bb-cream, mascara and light eyeliner, but for today, seeing how it was Halloween-themed you’d do some more. You had prepared a little outfit, with the top that Marcus enjoyed so much. You put on a deep crimson lipstick and executed the perfect smoky-eye with different shades of brown.

Unknown to your fiancé, you’d set up some surprises for him, one of those including new options for your followers to spend their channel points on. One of these included a “kiss” and “hug” choice. You’d filled Marcus in on the schedule, some “just chatting” followed up by a couple rounds of “Phasmophobia”. The new and immensely popular game was based on a ghost hunting concept. You had invited two of your streamer friends to join the both of you, which they gladly accepted.

“Honey?”, you called out, immediately hearing the footsteps trail up the stairs. “Are you almost done?”

“Hey, this look okay?”, he asked, gesturing towards his little button-up shirt.

You huffed out a breathy laugh, giving him a set of nods. “You could’ve just worn a t-shirt, baby, no need to get all dolled up.”

“Says you”, he cooed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Do you really have to wear that top?”

“Yes! It is a very necessary requirement, now go get settled, we start in five minutes.”

He was so nervous that it was showstoppingly adorable. The way he softly asked you if he looked okay, if his equipment was good to go, it was plain endearing. After checking another last time you finally pressed the “go live” button. The chat was immediately filled with eager followers, telling you hello and asking a plethora of questions. Marcus introduced himself and the view count jumped up by hundreds, if not thousands in mere seconds.

“So you guys, Marcus was so kind to join us today! Let’s give him some love in the chat, because he’ll need it”, you announced, putting an arm around him.

He quirked a brow at you. “What do you mean?”

“Weeeeeell, let’s just say that I quickly tried out the game for myself last night and that it’s definitely not your cup of tea.”

“Are you calling me a wimp?”, he asked, eyes narrowed.

You smiled into the camera before facing him again. “Perhaps.”

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Your “just chatting” was really more of a q&a session, keeping you there for just under an hour. Most of the questions were about the two of you, seeing how neither of you really had been interviewed as of late due to the ongoing pandemic. You were happy to answer most of them, refraining from the ones that were a tad bit too personal for both of your liking. The channel points had been well spent tonight, landing Marcus kiss after kiss after kiss, to a point where you decided to disable the option for a bit.

“Alright, Marcus will retreat to his own little corner and we can get started on some games”, you stated, switching your overlay around. The main screen was your game capture though you also had both your and Marcus’ cameras on display, along with the chat box and a subscription goal.

“What’s the game again?” he asked.

“Phasmophobia. The premise of the game is basically that you and your friends go to this haunted location where you’re supposed to investigate what kind of ghost it is. But the ghost can enter a ‘hunting’ mode and grab your butt, which is absolutely terrifying”, you explained, setting up your game and inviting your friends to join in.

The first few games were just all of you messing about while trying to figure out the controls and such. Until you heard a scream coming from Marcus. You spun around in your chair, doubling over in laughter as he was screaming at his screen, getting chased by some ghost in the game.

“Back off demon bitch! UNHAND MEEEEEE”, he yelled, slamming the keys on his keyboard. “Honey, open the door! I’m not playing around, open the damn door! Open the do-“, he cut himself off with another high-pitched scream, throwing his headphones off.

You nearly fell off your chair, quickly looking at your own stream to see him get caught and die in-game just in time. “Marcus nooooo!”

“I died? No way, what the hell am I supposed to do now?”, he asked with a pout.

You were wiping at your eyes, seeing how you started tearing up a bit from laughter. “Oh my God, somebody clip that PLEASE! I need to see that again”, you giggled.

He stood up from his chair, coming over to your to wrap his arms around you. “I thought you were going to protect me.”

“I’m sorry baby, do you want to sit with me for a bit?”, you suggested, pressing a kiss to his upper arm.

“You’re right, this isn’t the game for me, my old heart can’t take it”, he mumbled, dragging his chair over to sit down next to you.

“We’ll invite someone else to take your spot, until then you and I can work it out together”, you offered, finishing with a peck to his pouty lips.

“I like the sound of that”, he confessed, slipping an arm around your waist. “My fiancée is a badass after all.”

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #pedro pascal #imagine #we can be heroes

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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Out of the House

Series summary: Ever the paranormal enthusiast Remus is excited when he finds an abandoned house creepy enough to have ghosts in it with no chance of being caught trespassing. He quickly finds himself in over his head however when his fantasies come true, fighting to solve a mystery with the only possible outcome being losing someone he comes to love.

Platonic dukexiety focus

This series was created for dukexiety week 2021. I’m posting after but here is the list of prompts!

Chapter 1: I’ll be Here by Day

Chapter Summary: When Remus gets them kicked out of the library, he takes Logan and Janus with him to an old, abandoned house as a new study location. This don’t go to plan as Remus is confronted with something he didn’t think was possible.

Pairings: Platonic Dukexiety (Remus & Virgil), background Lociet (Logan x Janus)

Day 1 Prompt: Myths/Supernatural

Warnings: mild swearing, mild sexual innuendos, injury mention, paranormal events. If there are others please let me know!

WC: 2873

AO3 link

Main masterlist

“Do you mind?” Remus grinned as his platforms were slowly but surely nudged off the chair, Logan's nose scrunched in disgust as ze examined the dirt on zir pencil. “Highly unsanitary.”

“It’ll help your immune system.” Long fingers reached over to flick at the pages of whatever book Logan had had zir nose buried in for the better part of an hour. He snapped them back with a yelp however as his knuckles were rapped hard with the pointy end of the No. 2.

“That's if you eat it Remus, and such sentiments are usually reserved for children to placate parents when they can’t keep their spawn from shoving every little thing into their mouths-”

“Well if you wanted to lick my boots Logan you just had to ask.” Remus waggled tiks eyebrows suggestively, grinning wide as the other turned beat red.

“I AM NOT-”

“Logan, honey, volume. And Remus stop being gross we invited you here to study not air our desperation.” Janus’ quiet drawl diffused the situation immediately as both parties screwed their mouths to the side and looked away. Remus heard the librarian huff and stalk away with furious clicks of his heels, no doubt miffed at the missed chance to kick them out for the third time that week.

“Jannie Jan. J-anus. Jan-ass. Jan-assist me with this b-”

“Afternoon Remus. New piercing already?”

Nodding excitedly, Remus leaned over Logan’s books, ignoring the put upon sigh behind him and staring at the redhead with wide eyes. Janus smirked as he watched the other’s eyebrows jump up and down, the fluorescent bulbs of the library catching the two studs placed right at the end of the left brow that morning.

“Looks nice. I like the green.”

“Remus if you keep doing those yourself you’re going to get an infection. Please, I’ve told you so many times I know the tattoo artist down the street, I can get you discount piercings.”

Remus craned his neck nearly all the way around, a manic grin thrown over tiks shoulder as Logan stared at him in horror. “Awe you like meeeeee.”

Shooting Janus the “it’s your turn look” while being bumped repeatedly in the shoulder by Remus’ swaying hips Logan pressed zir mouth into a thin line as the return eyebrow raise of “you owe me for last time” was shot right back. Rolling zir eyes Logan shoved back with zir shoulder sending Remus right back in the chair.

“You.” Logan hissed. “Are going to get us kicked out again. I quite enjoy this library, so take this and for the love of god stay relatively quiet!”

So saying a silicone sword on a string was pressed into Remus’ hands, who inspected the obnoxiously green object for a moment before shrugging and shoving it into his mouth. “Long and thick, I like it.”

The undignified snort Janus didn’t quite manage to cover followed by a shriek as his shins were kicked from under the table was enough to teleport the librarian over to them. Glaring down his nose at the two properly chastised of the group and the one currently grinning like an idiot he pointed aggressively towards the door in a way that dared them to argue.

“Out.”

“Yes ma’am.” Logan and Janus muttered as they collected their things. Remus jumped up with a salute that received an icy glare stern enough to freeze if Remus had actually been paying attention- as it was tik merely swung his pack up and over tiks shoulder nearly hitting the man in the process. A final self satisfied huff and a slammed door later found all three of them kicking pebbles on the sidewalk, put out and annoyed but certainly not surprised.

“Remus, I care for you a great deal but at the moment I would like to yeet you into the road.” Logan turned to Janus slightly. “Usage?”

Ignoring Remus’ giggling, Janus nodded. “It’s correct.”

“We could go to your flat?” Logan asked hopefully, wilting as Janus shook his head.

“Roommates are having their own study session and between Remus’...” Janus paused and watched as the other tried to snap a bug into his book, nearly snapping his nose as tik tripped in the process. “...Remus and my more distracting noises I don’t think we’d be welcome back just yet.”

“They could just wear headphones.” Logan muttered, clearly annoyed.

“Yes well, not everyone understands vocal stims and I don’t want to get into another argument with them about it. I rather enjoy my flat and if I could continue to live in it that would be lovely.”

“I know a place!” Remus jumped suddenly between them. “I found it last week looking for-”

“Remus we are not studying in a graveyard or a morgue or a house you think is haunted. I understand your love of ghosts but-”

“This one’s really nice I promise!” Remus interrupted, giving Logan puppy eyes that had zir rolling zir eyes yet again. “It’s in that weird in between of broken down enough that no one wants it but not enough that the government or whatever wants to step in yet...so I think technically no one owns it?”

“Is that how that works?” Janus turned to Logan curiously.

Logan opened zir mouth to argue, finger already in the “in fact it isn’t” position before pausing to consider. “I- I’d like to say no but I don’t know enough about property rights in this state to argue.”

“In this state?” Janus’ question was ignored in favor of Logan blocking Remus’ book from slamming into zir nose.

“It’s safe?” Janus asked instead.

“Yeah! Well-” Remus mumbled around tiks chewelry, tugging the book out of Logan’s grip and stuffing it uncaringly into tiks bag. “Just don’t go on the second floor I guess...stairs look a bit not great. But! It doesn’t have a basement so the first floor is safe! And most of the windows are broken so it doesn’t smell or anything.”

“....and we’re taking those as good points and moving on. Logan?”

Pinching the bridge of zir nose and pushing zir blue tinted hair out of zir face, Logan eyed the man currently bouncing up and down in excitement and nearly jostling the papers out of tiks open backpack. Smiling fondly ze shrugged. “If it's quiet I don’t see why-”

“Yes! Come on, I know a shortcut!”

Janus and Logan watched as Remus took off at a sprint, using the momentum to throw his pack over the fence and picking up half the papers that flew out of it before hopping it tikself. Scooping most of his things back up he continued running across the residentials backyards and turning out of sight around the far corner.

Holding his hand out Janus smiled wryly. “I know which house he’s talking about, it isn’t far. Sidewalk or yards?”

“The sidewalk is better- I can’t hold your hand trying to hop a fence.” So saying Logan slipped zir hand into the others’, but not before smugly observing his reddening cheeks.

“Sap.”

“No, a flirt?” Holding in his laughter, Janus tugged Logan along, walking faster than normal in the hopes that the wind would cool his face.

-----

“Ta-da!” Remus twirled in the entryway, flinging his bag to the side of the hall as tik did. Sneezing in the resulting dust he quickly shuffled back further into the house. The space had probably been a living room before the previous owners moved, though as it stood now it seemed even the house had forgotten what it once was. Old, warped floorboards held only water damage as memories, groaning and giving slightly when anyone stepped on them. As it was they protested heavily as Remus uncaringly rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for the others to actually step inside.

“You’re sure this is safe?” Logan cautioned as ze stepped gingerly around a pile of plaster that had long since crumbled off the wall by the door.

“Oh absolutely! Nothing’s fallen on me yet that wasn't already on the floor when I got here.” Tik paused as tik glanced towards the stairs- rickety, broken things that looked like blowing a fan in their direction would collapse them- and winced. “Just...don’t use the stairs. I put my foot through the first one by accident trying to explore the other day.”

“Of course you did.” Janus sniffed, looking them up and down before he stopped to squint at the top. It looked like they led to a hallway that turned a corner to the rest of the second floor, a small window letting in a meager amount of sunlight through the dirty glass. The hallway and resulting corner was shrouded in half shadow that made shapes dance around the edges and goosebumps race up and down his arms. Only half paying attention to whatever Remus and Logan were currently arguing about, he took a step closer to the staircase, back tensing even if he couldn’t make anything out that could be triggering such a response.

Squinting harder he tilted his head trying to get a better angle from his vantage point at the very bottom of the steps. The shadows seemed to shift every so slightly right at the turn of the wall that would lead into the hallway, making him blink and step back in surprise. Hackles raised in earnest now he frantically searched up and down the stairway and everywhere he could see of the upper landing but there was no more movement in any direction. The top of the steps however was brighter now, as if the dirty panes had only been a trick of dust in his eyes. Now it was simply slightly smeared glass- nevertheless letting sunlight through cheerily and letting it shine halfway down the steps- hardly a trace of shadow to be found in what he could have sworn was a dingy landing only moments before.

“Hey Jannie Jan you good? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“...Remus, you’re sure this house is empty? You never heard anything or saw any- I don’t know empty wrappers or anything?” Stepping fully away from the stairs Janus turned towards Remus and gripped the straps of his backpack tight enough to bruise his fingers.

“No, why? I mean- no one else is here. I’ve spent a few days exploring this place and hanging out, there’s just the first floor which is pretty clean other than well,” he gestured around at the wallpaper, plaster and dust littering the floor, along with the broken glass shoved carefully back underneath the windows. “And the second floor I already said I couldn’t get to and I doubt anyone else could even if they wanted to. I never heard anything other than what I think is a mouse or squirrel or something in the wall over there.”

“That doesn’t completely eradicate the possibility of squatters in the building but considering the state of the place I’d say it’s very unlikely.” Logan nodded at Remus before turning back to peer at Janus curiously. “I would assume that was what you were implying, Janus. Are you alright?”

Janus screwed his mouth to the side, considering just dropping the subject or lying to save face somewhat. Just as he was about to snark out something about watching too many of Remus’ cheesy ghost hunting shows, a wave of dread so solid it left him breathless slammed into him. Ice filled his veins and his legs tensed as every reflex in his body told him in no uncertain terms to run before it was too late.

“I want to leave.”

“What, why?” Remus quickly jogged over to where Janus was reaching for the door handle, Logan hot on his heels.

“I don’t want to get arrested for trespassing! And this place-” He turned around and glanced to the stairs again. “It doesn’t feel right. I’d rather brave my roommates.”

“Are you scared?” Remus asked incredulously.

“No!” Whirling around the other man locked eyes with Logan. “You agree with me right?”

Logan twisted h=zir fingers for a moment, not looking at either of them. “It does feel odd I suppose.”

“Then that’s that then! Stay in your creepy house if you want Remus, we’re leaving.” So saying Janus grabbed up Logan’s hand and bag, practically dragging zir out the door.

Remus stood inside the doorway for a moment before tiks shoulders slumped and tik turned back inside. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy to fix them getting kicked out of the library...again. The house was creepy sure but it had been abandoned for who knows how long and was falling in on itself, what had they expected?

Idly he kicked at a loose nail and sent it skittering across the floor towards the stairs. Tik hadn’t ever felt scared in this house- not even when his weight snapped the first step and he thought he’d be stuck in the house until tiks body rotted through the hole he’d made. A less favorable thought sure but not one tik wasn’t familiar enough with to hold it against the house. Huffing he flopped down against the far wall and drug tiks bag over to tik, fishing around for his phone so he could apologize to Janus and Logan and hope they weren’t too mad at tik...again.

He nearly dropped his phone when something bounced off the back of it, clattering to the floor between tiks feet. He leaned forward to see...a nail? Raising his eyebrow tik looked up to the stairs while flicking the nail towards them, searching for the one he had kicked but seeing nothing other than dust. The one tik flicked bounced off the bottom step and spun for a minute before stopping suddenly just a few inches away. Remus slowly lowered his phone and watched it curiously, the hairs on his arms standing in alarm but refusing to eat tikself actually be scared. It was a nail- an old rusty one at that- and the house was old with its windows smashed through. The air currents were probably playing around with-

There was a slight pain in his outer ear and tik flinched to the side to see what bug had bit him. Instead he saw a nail embedded into the wall, still quivering slightly with the force it had apparently been shot with. Swallowing nervously tik glanced back to the stairs searching frantically for the one he had seen not five seconds ago only to see nothing but dust once again.

“Okay.” He exhaled shakily and stood up, pocketing his phone and grabbing up tiks bag. “Yeah, okay. So- ghost right? Listen, I love being nailed as much as the next person but-”

He was cut off with small, unassuming jingling sounds, almost sounding like hail hitting the outside of a window. The sun was still shining brightly however, despite the rapidly declining temperature inside and he began to look around in earnest to make out what the sound was. Tik had always told himself that if tik ever had an experience like this he’d be sure to catch it in camera- and none of the shaky handed blurry footage shit everyone else tried to pass off thank you very much Logan- but at the moment his phone was forgotten in a white-knuckled grip. He watched as bits of glass slid over the worn floors with enough force to gouge the wood, jingling merrily on their way to a rapidly darkening staircase with shadows dripping like black mold from the second floor above.

Tik could do nothing but stand frozen even as every instinct and shred of common sense he had ever had screamed at tik to turn and run while he still could. The glass whirled around a shape in the middle of the stairs, a ball of shadow descending step by step that seemed to stare through him though tik couldn’t see any indication the thing had eyes. His vision tunneled and distantly he was aware tiks breathing had picked up- mildly concerning considering the microscopic pieces of glass ripping through the air- everything narrowing down to this one moment. This one entity that without a shred of doubt in Remus’ mind he knew wanted him dead.

“G̸̮̗̘͔͔̖̕E̴̛͚̣͖͇̗͙̺̭̔̈́̂̀̈́̔̕͠͝͝T̵̨̜̹̲̬̦͕͇͒̓͒̀͑ ̵͕͖̳̱͎͕̝̥̐̉͗̃Ǒ̵̡͎̥̣̳̙̜̜͓̠̲͍̿̐͐̎́̓̽̊͘͘͜͝͠Ṷ̶̢̟̠͙̯̱̝̠̹̪͚̠̽̇̄́͌̔̀̌͠͝T̸͎͐̆̐!̵͉́̅̋̑͑̈̀̈́̄!̷̰̈́̀̑̾͌̊”

The force of the distorted voice rattled the walls and sent plaster raining down onto Remus, who finally felt his legs twitch just as tik felt the first pinpricks of glass against his face. Wasting not a second more he turned on tiks heel and tripped tiks way through the entry hall and out the door, hearing it slam shut behind him as he hopped the fence and took off down the road faster than tik had ever run in his life. Shocked gasps rushed past his lips as tik just kept pumping his legs and let tikself be led on autopilot all the way to his apartment, bursting through the door and slamming it behind him. Heavy breaths filled the short hall and he slumped to the floor, mildly surprised when his phone thunked to the floor in front of tik.

“Holy shit.” He whispered, tiks head thumping heavily into the door behind him.

“Holy fucking shit.”

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#false writes #dukexiety #lociet #remus sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #ghost au #platonic dukexiety #tw swearing #tw minor injury #tw injury #tw paranormal #out of the house #ooth

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