#ghost of mine au

[sasukimimochi]

Hello ❤ヾ(•ω•`)o I'm going to include a hyperlink that will take you to a temporary chapter of GOM in this post, explaining what the upload change will be for the next month and a half! Ignoring this though, I wanted to show off a character I created to use in TWPT/GOM!

Please read about the update schedule stuff here.

I don't generally like using OC's, but I needed someone to pose as Jiang Cheng's head disciple.

I know, these are pretty rough design starts haha! His hair is only wavy/curly if he braids it up at night, otherwise its straight! His design though isn't all that important so I probably won't draw him again for a while unless I need him in a picture.

I really hope these meanings are correct, I did a lot of careful consideration when picking out these names:

!!EDIT!! due to "xiaogu" being something else than i thought i changed his courtesy name to save him some face. I did a bunch of research and linked it with the names!

朱 - Zhu (Family Name)

朱 - Zhu - vermilion, cinnabar

恺璇 - Kaixuan (birth)

恺 (kǎi) - enjoy, be contented, joyful 璇 (xuán) - beautiful jade; star

霄顾 - Xiaoyi (courtesy)

晓 (xiǎo) - dawn, daybreak; clear, explicit 毅 (yì) - resolute, decisive, firm, persist, to attend to

I have more information for him, but I'm not sure how much I'm putting in TWPT yet so imma hold onto it (´･ω･`)!

I hope you guys like him tho!!

Check out my other MDZS stuff here! ❤

[radiance1]

"You fight against a god!" Said the eldritch, nearly undecipherable being that's body twinkled with stars that the JL/YJ (Your choice) had found themselves fighting against after having been sucked into a world not their own. "Do you truly believe yourselves capable of-"

A green sticky note appeared in front of the figure's... Face? They honestly didn't know, seeing as they couldn't tell where exactly this being began and ended.

"Oh- Oh uh." The figure said as its voice lost that booming, echoing quality as it started to shrink. "I gotta, like. Uh." Said the boy that took the being's place, sticky note in hand as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. "Sorry, can we, uh. Continue this later? I gotta walk my dog-"

A moment later, a loud bark broke the new atmosphere, and the child beamed. "Cujo!" He said, holding out his arms as the dog barreled into him. "Okay so I'll just, uh. I'll be right back, okay? Just stay there!" He said, before falling through a portal and leaving.

"So does this mean we technically won-"

[bunnysnared]

"meat is meat. i can butcher it all the same."

[cw knives, blood, implied violence/murder, dark!au] happy spooky szn everyone!! here is a sketch of a butcher!ghost au that @bressynonym has cooked up that i am obsessed with... have a fun and safe halloween everyone!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

im begging you to make more shapeshifter!141 tormenting witch!reader pleek

since you said pleek :)

65 / 1.1k / part 2 of shapeshifter familiars!141 tormenting witch!reader

...

You pour two warm cups of cloudy sloe ale—one for you and one for Price. You're the only one who feigns enough interest to sip it.

Price laces his hands together and leans forward. "I didn't come for blood."

None of them did, apparently. You curl your hands around your tin cup. He wasn't supposed to come at all. He visits when the moon is full. That was the deal. "I understand that."

Price’s gaze flicks to a bit of drying blood on your hand, and you feel his displeasure at the sight. "Then you also understand my irritation when I learn I've been kept in the dark."

"About what?"

"A number of disturbing reports from the townsfolk."

"Hm." Tension rolls through your muscles before you force them to soften. "I wasn't aware you spent time in the village. Do you visit often?"

Price doesn't like your coyness. His voice loses some of its politeness. "The villagers have become too savvy. They forge protective charms. They invoke holy names. They line the thresholds of their homes with salt and rue." He leans forward. "Now, how would they know to do that?"

You swallow delicately around the lump in your throat. "Old folk tales, I imagine."

"Folk tales?" He chuckles. "They're not paying protection money to cupboard sprites. Old tales don't teach them how to bless trees and cut the lumber into cradles."

"Then I wouldn't know. The villagers don't speak to me on principle."

"Then you have no knowledge of this? You’ve accepted no coin from them in exchange for your talents?”

"You know I'm banned from trading in the village market. The guards would take my head off the moment they caught me inside the walls."

“Maybe so. But there are other ways of propagating information, aren’t there?” Price leans back, arms crossed. “Rumors spread.”

You scoff to sound braver than you are. "They've puzzled out how to keep you away from their daughters. It has nothing to do with me."

Price's blue eyes flicker. "We’ve been quite careful with our food source. Gone out of our way to be discreet. They shouldn't suspect us of being in the area, let alone come up with protections against our kind."

You tilt your head in a stiff shrug. "Maybe Soap let one get away."

"Soap is brash. Not sloppy." Steel creeps into his voice. "He's more likely to bite his tongue off than spill our secrets."

You go to sip your ale again, but Price's fingers latch around your wrist as you raise it.

"Careful with that." His grip tightens as he forces your hand back down to the table. "You'll inebriate yourself if you're careless."

You slowly release the mug. After a long beat, he releases your wrist.

He doesn't say anything else, but you can't meet his eyes. The cold metal of his rings still burns against your skin.

He studies you in silence. The dry glint in his eye tells you he doesn't need to pry for what you're hiding from him. He knows already. But a deal is a deal, and you're under his protection. "Regardless of the reason, our feeding options are suddenly limited. If you insist on keeping my boys half-starved, we'll travel outside our territory to offset your stinginess."

"Fine. We’ll suspend our contract."

"Certainly not."

Your jaw sets. "A temporary suspension of our terms would serve all parties' needs well enough, would it not? You seek your fill elsewhere."

"I will seek it where my needs are most pressing."

"I don't have the means to leave my hut. I assure you I'll keep to myself until you get back."

Price smiles, and your heart sinks. "Another witch might. You?” He hums. “Besides, you know how they get when they're deprived."

You’re hyperaware of Ghost's shadow falling over you. His rough hands cover the back of your chair. It creaks in his grip. You squelch the instinct to cover your blind spot and, fisting one in your skirt under the table to steady your nerves, keep your back to him. You also ignore the gleam of two other sets of eyes behind Price, hovering in the pitch-blackness of your kitchen.

“That’s kind of you,” you say finally, “but there’s no need to be overprotective.”

Price stands. He pours the last sip of your ale out onto the soft dirt floor. You hadn’t even seen him pick it up. "We'll come for you tomorrow night, witch. You'll travel with us."

Your head spins. No, no, this isn't how it was supposed to go. You covered your tracks. You planned perfectly. He can't just uproot you—can't just kidnap you like this.

"No, I—" You stand before you realize it. All four shapeshifters turn back to glance at you. Price looms halfway out the front door. You steady yourself with a white-knuckled grip on the table. "I'm not leaving my home."

Price takes in the defiant look on your face and the tense, brittle set of your body. "No? Hmmm." He rubs his beard. "We're in a tight spot, then. Ghost, what do you think?"

The scars on Ghost's tight scowl gleam in the candlelight. "I think she owes us a meal, and we expect to eat. One way or the other."

Gaz scoffs. "There’s a proper solution."

Soap grins. "We could just take her, you know. Suspend the contract and make her come with us."  His eyes light up. "We could have a lot of fun on the road."

"Not if there's a fight," Gaz says, eyeing you. "She can make real trouble if she wants to."

"No' if she knows what's good for her."

"That's enough," Price says. He looks back at you. "Lads are in a mood. They've been feeding from the villages as a stop gap, and they're not nearly full. Their tempers are short, their stomachs are growling, and they have energy to burn. You understand?” His gaze steadies on your neck. “We'll be back tomorrow night. You'd better be ready to go or else ready to give them a full meal."

Soap’s grin sharpens. The implication is obvious. Payment is payment. If you don't give them what they want, they'll take it by other means.

They turn to go. Ghost is the last to step over your threshold. "Blood won't be enough," he says. Then he's off, a black dog bounding into the night.

...

← part 1 / more Price / more Ghost / more Soap / more Gaz / masterlist

[surelysilly]

*shuffles cards in hands* yeah

[invadergrabass]

I destroyed the bonds of friendship and respect between the only people left who'd even look me in the eyes...!

[chirpycloudyrobin]

Masterlist || START || Next

im just thinking abt an au where wwx actually did die at the burial mounds but him surviving long enough there and even pioneering a new branch of cultivation to do so was enough to punt his ghost straight up to wrath rank. however he is unaware that hes actually dead since hes too focused on his goal to absolutely decimate wen chao to pay attention to his bodily functions/needs or lack thereof.

everyone else gets this feeling that something is off with wwx but they figure its just heebie jeebies from the demonic cultivation. it's only until wwx went back to the burial mounds with the wen remnants that it sinks in that hes dead. but then he realises that if this gets out, the cultivation world will be hunting for his head more viciously so he keeps this very tightly under wraps. all this secret keeping and exhaustion and starvation just makes wwx a teensy bit more volatile but at least he has his own little family to keep him sane.

until shit starts to go downhill. and it just keeps on going. until everyone is gone and hes the only one left standing and he needs to destroy the stupid fucking seal and keep the others from discovering where he hid a-yuan so he takes his chances and pours his everything into destroying the seal. except this time hes a little more powerful than he wouldve been if he was mortal and he levels part of the burial mounds before he went. and thus was the last of wwx.

or was it ?

the world believes wwx to be dead ("good riddance") but actually hes still kicking and in a more incorporeal form. he had to retreat somewhere deep in the burial mounds to recover and thus was unable to see that lwj had come back and taken a severely feverish a-yuan with him. wwx thinks everyone is dead and gone and everything was all for naught so he stews in his mistakes and tries to repent while stitching himself back together.

sometime after, he ends up in mount tonglu which was reopened because the aftershocks of the destruction of the stygian tiger seal were strong enough to disturb mount tonglu's magma chamber of resentment basically. so for ~12 years wwx was in there fighting his way thru which was why he didnt answer to lwj's calls

wwx survives as the last standing ghost after the slaughter and stews in the kiln for another month and a half or so. this would be around the time mxy is preparing to summon wwx's ghost for the summoning.

so imagine wwx just came out of the thing as a newly minted supreme/ghost king and hes immediately yanked to where mxy is. wwx's soul isnt stuffed into mxy's newly-emptied physical body since hes a ghost king this time around. still, he helps mxy but in the shadows bc hes still not keen on getting yoinked just when he returned to the mortal world.

everything proceeds as canon, with wwx sharing mxy's body via possession at some points for the comedy gold and the bit (because he would !! let the man be silly)

after that he absolutely yanks mxy outta there after lwj arrives (just after he spends like 5 minutes staring at lwj's beauty of course) and decides hes gonna adopt this sad little wet cat and teach him the actual proper ways of cultivation and steer him away from demonic cultivation bc tbh it's just not worth it esp since mxy has a golden core and who knows how demonic cultivation will affect a golden core-

anyways

wwx decides to do a silly little makeover so he wouldnt be recognised by any of his old acquaintances. his new appearance ends up a weird lil mix between himself and mxy, enough to claim that theyre distant cousins and normal rogue cultivators just starting out. wwx plans on taking his new charge around the country and away from the sects after he learned the godawful way the lanling jin have treated mxy

"single parenthood will be hard, but this father will make sure you get the best life on the road, my sweet little loquat." "you barely look older than me to be my father, wei-qianbei" "shush let me have this"

their traveling is off to a good start. but then dafan mountain happens and holy shit wen ning is still alive(?? technically ??) and holy shit why the fuck is everyone from wwx's previous life gathering here and holy shit did he just insult his shijie's son and-

why the fuck are they going with the gusu lan cultivators

what the fuck just happened

what

anyways

wwx introduces himself as a golden core-less distant mo cousin ("had an unfortunate run-in with the core melting hand back then") who used to be a rogue cultivator back in the day and is now dabbling with the art of talisman making and definitely isnt practicing demonic cultivation no siree

somehow he and mxy end up separated as lwj and wwx go to investigate the severed arm together and mxy ends up going w the juniors with a lil encouragement from wwx

"youll have a better time socialising with people your age, little loquat" "wei-qianbei plz ,,, u just want to go w hanguang-jun alone dont u" "lmao hahahahah who said that"

wwx is absolutely having the time of his life roleplaying a damsel in distress while being completely oblivious to the bone chilling fear he induces in their undead opponents. he invents silly little talismans to help hanguang-jun in battle. hes a little perplexed at how much shit lwj is letting him get away with.

hes also 90% sure lwj has figured out that hes a ghost and hes sweating like a sinner in church deep inside

i havent thought of much past this but heres some more tidbits of info that i thought about

at some point wwx is made aware of his infamy as the "Devil Flute Upon Graves". his self destruction at the burial mounds wiped out most of the vengeful ghosts in that area and, as mentioned before, shook mount tonglu w enough resentful energy to bust it open

wwx has an army of ghostly corvids that are essentially made of condensed resentful energy. they are also sort of empathetically connected to him ??? so theyre also chatty, yappy things who are extra fond of lwj and the junior ducklings

actually wwx's entire being post-supreme promotion is just condensed resentful/yin energy and being in his presence should be dangerous for regular ppl and cultivators alike but (a) he has mastered the art of keeping the effects contained within himself and (b) existing within the same space as lwj and doing their everyday means that their yin and yang energy are constantly balancing each other out to the point where it just naturally and passively happens. lwj literally dampens wwx's natural heebie jeebie vibes bc of good dick

because hes made up of yin energy, this does mean that it's ridiculously easy for him to switch back and forth between a male and female form. he usually ends up walking around in an androgynous form that leans towards a healthier, happier looking yiling laozu

VERY IMPORTANT ADDITION: yes ofc wwx gives lwj his ashes. it's in the form of an ornament. idk where to hang it tho. maybe wangji-guqin ? or his belt ? still debating on it for sure

the burial mounds are regarded in the ghost realm as his territory now and the ghost realm and heavenly court wait w baited breath to see what this new ghost king would do

the answer is he gallivants all over the damn continent with his new cultivator husband and their gaggle of children. wwx really dgaf about anything else really, he just wants to be Wife and Teacher

the wen remnants are given a second chance at life by wwx himself after the second siege of the burial mounds and they now live a happy afterlife at wwx's new ghost town where their old settlement used to be

he and hua cheng get along by virtue of being former street kids who just want to hang out w their godly spouses and their conversations together are just praise after praise for said godly spouses

wwx's birbs do eat hua cheng's butterflies and it's a frequent point of contention. no harm is done to the butterflies tho, the birbs just spit them out whole bc they taste absolutely nasty/poisonous

wwx 🤝 xie lian : little to no self-preservation instincts. they just want to help people okay !!

after the entire guanyin temple ordeal wwx ends up with a worshipped godly aspect whose primary place of worship is in yiling, who still remember the yiling laozu who just wanted to help his little family survive to the next day. to them, wwx became the god of innovation, ingenuity, and protection

he also becomes the patron god of street children ??? he just finds himself helping street kiddos and taking in vengeful ghost children because it was what he needed back when he was a kid okay ??? hes just using his powers for good, thats all

mxy is taken in by the gusu lan clan where he ends up become a promising candidate as a talisman master, thanks to wwx's encouragement and guidance

also !! it turns out more than a couple of other ppl ascended into the heavenly court, namely:

- jiang yanli ascended as the new water master, while jin zixuan became a martial god. shes a goddess of abundance, the home, and reconciliation. hes a god of wealth, fortune, and justice - nie mingjue also ascended to become a martial god after his spirit was laid to rest. he was supposed to ascend naturally but jin guangyao's bullshit derailed his fate. - wen qing ascended to become a medical master/goddess of medicine and sacrifice tho shes also kind of infamous for her friendship with devil flute upon graves. but nobody can say shit cz if they do say shit then they wld also be saying shit abt hualian and they dont want to deal with two calamities up their ass

thats all i can yap abt rn but i might add more we dunno

[fuctacles]

Dude, That's My Ghost!

A @steddieexchange fic for @hellfireloserclub !! I hope you like it. The whole first chapter is up on Ao3.

E | ~9k | no cw | Soulmates AU, Supernatural Elements, Magical Bonds, Ghost Sex, No UD, Magical Bonds | more tags on Ao3! | beta read by @blasvemous <3

Disappearing Act

The Universe is an amazing creation. In its vastness, it gives you a Soulmate, so you don't feel alone despite your brief and meaningless existence. It may not be perfect, but it's thoughtful, and that's more than you can say about its inhabitants.

And yet, in this benevolent Universe, there is Steve Harrington.

"Ah."

He's standing in front of a guy, their hands outstretched and bare, their Soul-marks visible. At least what's left of them. 

Steve watches in horror as the swarm of bats moves around his skin in panic, vanishing one by one as if sucked into his body. They've been with him for years and now they're just... gone.

When he looks up at the man he's just met, the nail bat on his forearm has vanished as well. He looks more surprised than terrified, though, twisting his arm curiously.

"Well..." He purses his lips. "I'm sorry, mate." He shrugs. "It was nice meeting you."

And before Steve can grab him, or collect himself at all, the man disappears into the crowd. He doesn't feel anymore the tether that helped him find the man in the first place. It's all gone. The Soul-mark, the connection, his Soulmate. Who was clearly right in front of him just a minute ago.

What the fuck had just happened?

Nobody has an answer for him. As far as he knows, it has never happened before, ever. Steve Harrington must be just a special kind of fucked up, hated by the universe. Destined to be unloved. Even though for a brief moment, he wasn't. For a second, he felt whole, with his Soulmate right in front of him, within reach of his hand, but as soon as their palms touched... it disappeared.

There are people without them, but no one whose mark would vanish, like a candy yanked out of a kid's hand. And every day Steve wonders, why him? In a world where everyone was leaving him, where having someone tied to him was his only hope, the only chance for love, why him?

He had left that music festival, where he met the man supposedly destined for him, right after, to grieve his loss in the solitude of his apartment. It felt like a piece of his soul had been torn out and something inside him ached, open and bleeding, with no way to patch it up.

The taped boxes of Robin's stuff were like an additional kick in the gut. She was leaving him soon too, off to live with her soulmate, which she gets to have. He loves it for her, of course he does, but it was easier to do knowing there was someone out there for him as well.

To not think about it, he finally focused on what he's been putting away ever since Robin said she was moving in with Vickie. Looking for a new place, a one-person apartment for himself, and nobody else. It takes over a month, but when he finds it, he finds it. He knows it's the place he wants to call home.

It's shit. 

A small apartment carved from an unused attic space, perfect for a desperate single student. The bathroom barely fits a shower and a toilet and doesn't have any space left for a sink. He has to wash his hands in the kitchen, or the space that he's supposed to call one. It's a little far from college but in a pinch, he could cash in on Robin's promise that he's always welcome at her new place, which is just a short walk away from their school.

It's perfect.

Even if Robin asks him once if he's punishing himself for something that's not his fault, like a really weird interpretation of a martyr. But he just opens his tiny window and lets her listen to the birds from the park below. All she can hear from her windows are the honking cars and yells of the students trying to get the best parking spot. And that's a point for the 'you rule' column as far as he's concerned.

The place has one more perk she doesn't know of and he's not sure which column it would classify in.

Because he's sharing it with a ghost.

It's almost alarming how quickly he accepts it. One day he's listening to music to unwind, and the next he finds a note on his desk telling him his taste in music is shit.

"Hello?" he asks to the room as a whole. Nobody could hide there. There simply wasn't enough space.

His eyes widen when his pen moves.

You won't see me, it writes. Can you play a rock station?

Steve only blinks.

"Uh, sure," he says, staring at the pen. "Do you know the frequency?"

He gets a few numbers in response and reaches for the dials of the radio to set it up. Soon, a song he doesn't recognize fills out the cramped space.

"This okay?"

Yes. Thank you so much.

Thoughtfully, Steve pulls out a notebook and opens it on a blank page.

"Are you a ghost?" he asks, staring at the faint blue lines.

What's a ghost, Steve? appears the message, slightly crooked despite the clear guidelines. The handwriting somehow fits the vibe of the music playing from the radio. 

"How do you know my name?" he frowns at the words.

It's all over your books?

"Fair," Steve huffs, sitting heavily by his desk. "I don't know, a dead person?" he answers the previous question.

Well, I didn't die. So. Not a ghost I guess.

"Then what?"

What's left when your body is taken away from you?

Steve's frown deepens. What is this, an impromptu quiz test?

"Uh, a soul?"

Then that's what I am, probably.

"So where's your body?" Steve asks, perplexed.

Some asshole demon took it.

"A demon?" he asks flatly, raising his eyebrows.

You're talking to a floating pen and the demon is what's unbelievable?

"Well, I'm sorry I'd rather not believe demons exist!" Steve scoffs, throwing his arms up.

Sorry to break it to you buddy but they do. And I've learned it the hard way.

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmurs.

Don't be sassy with me, I'll break all your mugs.

"We're not summoning a demon."

"Okay, sheesh. No need for violence." Steve rolls his eyes. "So, what happened?"

"We're not summoning a demon because they don't exist," Jeff elaborates.

"How about some make-believe, hm?" Eddie puts his hands on his hips, clearly disappointed in his bandmates. "A bonding activity to boost morale?"

"You know what would boost morale?" Gareth points his drumstick at him. "Band practice."

"Fine!" Eddie throws his hands in the air. "I'll do it myself, but don't cry later when I'll be the only one blessed by the metal gods!"

"We won't," Doug assures him dryly.

"So it's gods or demons after all? Can't pick a side?"

Eddie flips them off with both hands before grabbing his guitar. He knows they are right, though. Only practice and improvement can give them a chance at the next battle of the bands. They were already so close to winning this year and were slowly becoming recognizable in the city. Getting there was slow but reachable, which was not how Eddie usually does things.

That's why, even if it's just for the peace of his own mind, a spiritual placebo, if you will, he grabs himself a beer and pulls out his D&D notes. He did way too much research on demons for his last campaign not to have some fun with it.

The instructions are cheesy, but it's exactly what he needs—something in good fun and on theme, even if it was supposed to be a group activity. He copies all the symbols, and chants, and draws blood. With his eyes squeezed shut, he makes his wish.

"Whoever is listening, help my band make it big."

The old wooden beams creak with their age. Nothing happens.

He opens his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and realizes he's relieved. Summoning an infernal being to his little attic apartment didn't sound as thrilling as he had been selling to his friends earlier that day. To be honest, he just wanted to do some weird metal shit with his band that they could later talk about in interviews. "We sold our souls for this album," would be a bonkers headline for the front page.

"That can be arranged."

Eddie shrieks.

He grabs tighter the knife he's still holding from his blood sacrifice and turns around. There on his bed, criss-crossed and relaxed, sits a creature of nightmares.

"What the fuck?!" Eddie's voice doesn't sound as deep and intimidating as he'd like it to.

"You summoned me," the intruder deadpans.

"Oh. Oh, right." It doesn't make him any less terrified. "Uh, what do you want?" he stammers, hoping to get the demon out of his space as soon as possible. He wants to call the boys, would love to hear Gareth's annoying voice right about now, actually.

"For your wish? I want in."

Eddie frowns.

"In?"

And then I held up my guitar and told him to hop in but he hopped into my body instead and here we are.

"You ever heard of a cursed instrument?"

Steve stares at the string of words. And stares. And stares.

I know I'm stupid you don't have to tell me.

"Oh thank god, because I didn't want to make you feel even worse."

He looks around the place and slowly points at the bed.

"So, that demon, was sitting on the same bed I slept in last night?'

Not on these covers, obviously, but yes.

"Holy shit." Steve feels himself shudder with cold dread. He knows all of this might be a lie, since there is no way for him to fact-check it, but the idea is disturbing enough. "And the summoning circle?" He looks down at the floorboards below his socked feet.

It was about here, but I guess the bastard cleaned it. Took all my shit with him too.

"So he's just living your life now?"

I'd guess so.

"Have you looked for him?"

Buddy the first thing I remember since then is waking up to you moving in

Steve frowns.

"What?"

Shit. What year is it?

"1986," he answers, his frown deepening.

Thank gods. Summer?

"September. The new semester just started. What the fuck, man, when did this happen?"

Spring break. Just a few months ago, apparently.

"That's half a year!" Steve points out. "And you were what, just, unconscious this whole time?"

Yeah. Maybe you helped, I don't know. Was someone else living here?

He shakes his head.

"I was told the previous tenant left without a word and they haven't even noticed at first."

Can't imagine a demon knowing the intricacies of renting an apartment.

It's normal for about two days, as far as living with a ghost can be. But it all spirals one night when Steve feels something touch him when he's trying to fall asleep.

Wait. What about my deposit?!

He jerks back in alarm and pulls back the covers but sees no stray items left there. Takes another look around, checking if something fell from the mattress, but sees nothing. He settles down against his pillow.

"Eddie?" he asks quietly.

He almost faints when the radio cracks to life. The dials switch and rotate and through the white noise of static, come bits of songs and voices until one breaks through.

"...what?..."

"This isn't happening..." Steve mutters to himself, eyes wide. "You could talk this whole time?!"

"...had no idea...you just...annoy me so much...had to speak up..."

"What the fuck, man?!"

"...let me sleep..."

"You sleep?!" He's fully awake now himself. "Why? What for?"

"...maybe you...drain my energy...with George Michael..."

"Fuck away from George Michael!" his voice cracks, now on the edge of hysterics.

"...you fuck away...was here first..."

"Yeah, and you fucked it up!"

Right after he says it, something falls on his chest, pinning him to the mattress.

"...low blow Steve..."

Steve blinks at the nothingness around him. On top of him. He feels no weight, no touch, but something isn't letting him move. His confused senses make his brain overheat.

"You can touch me?"

He feels the sting of a slap on his cheek, but he's too confused to feel pain.

"Ow?" is all he manages to say.

"...yup..."

The thing on top of him shifts, now off his chest but pinning him from the waist down, like someone is straddling him. He reaches up with his hands, searching for an invisible person.

"...don't...it feels wrong..."

"Sorry." He retracts his hand. Blinking rapidly as if it could give him an insight to the soul realm, he searches for any sign of thighs splayed over his body. "This is weird."

"...no shit..."

His palm, still raised, feels something soft and tingly, and his fingers spread like someone is slotting theirs in between. Steve feels something tighten in his chest, a longing he's been trying to bury deep inside.

"...can we...go back to sleep?..."

Steve lets out a short, surprised laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I don't think I've ever felt more awake than right now." Then, he frowns. "Have you been sleeping with me all this time?"

"...yeah?...there's only one bed..."

"Unbelievable," he murmurs to himself. The first time he shares a bed with a guy and it's a fucking ghost. Soul. Whatever.

"...you want me to...sleep on the floor?..."

"No," Steve groans, falling back against his pillow. "Just get off me and go to sleep."

Eddie doesn't leave, but he lets go of his hand. Something presses against his abdomen.

"...how about...I get you off?..."

"What?"

There's a pressure against his groin, someone's phantom butt cheeks grinding down on him. So much has been happening, that he hasn't even realized he woke up half-hard.

"No, it's alright—"

"...you sure?...you'll sleep like a baby..."

Steve lets out a surprised snort.

"That so, nurse Eddie?"

"...roleplay?...already?...you change mind quickly..."

"I was joking." Steve rolls his eyes, but Eddie grinds against him again.

"...I would make...a great nurse...I'm very caring...attentive..."

"That so?" Steve quirks his eyebrow, simultaneously telling his brain that he's not going to seek care and attention from the ghost in his apartment.

Though, on the other hand, he doesn't have a Soulmate anyway.

He just wishes there was a waist he could grab onto, a body he could feel, a smile he could see. But as Eddie brings him to completion, he realizes this is all he might be getting from life.

read more

thirst squad tags: @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94

[sasukimimochi]

Part 1 (you are here) Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 ...

Overall Warnings: grotesque written imagery, body horror, blood, possession(?) sort of (more like integrating), voices, loss of self (since this isn't really MCD), Darker WWX (he's not classic wwx), violence

- Part 1

· ✦ Beneath the Skin ✦ ·

Resentment tore through his flesh, leaving trails of embers beneath the ghostly skin and veins. He was already in such grave pain, the volume of his screams couldn’t get any louder but only more desperate. He choked on the searing grip, feeling something wriggling like maggots into every opening of his qiqiao. He gagged and heaved, fruitlessly attempting to expel the smell of death and dirt from his lungs.

We will take over for you.

You’re tired, right? Let us in.

We can destroy the Wens for you.

Every. single. one.

He didn’t want to lose himself. To defeat the Wens though, it was needed.

His body was no longer useful. If he let this entity take over though, it could mean anything and his life would be over. He closed his eyes tightly, not able to see past the black and red sludge dribbling from his face and eyes anyway. On one condition…!

And what would that be?

You never harm the innocent or my people! I would sooner bite my tongue and die!! He seethed, teeth bared in fury.

…Fine. There are many who are guilty in the world, so there is no shortage.

It would be a waste for you to lose your life now.

You’re much more fun alive.

Wei Wuxian’s mind became a haze as he let go.

Slowly, his body righted itself, blood red eyes staring out past the sharpened hills and bodies of cultivators.

It felt…odd. 

Within his skin, he was no longer himself.

[ghostsray]

am i crazy or is this a reference to the portal!danny phantom au

[bunnysnared]

I FINISHEDDDD!!! its just the chibi lineup [i plan to do a regular full body one and many other short comics etc!] but its the easiest way for me to finalize their designs out!!

this au is my passion project my life's work my blood my thrumming heartbeat LOL i have all the lore worked out, it lives in my mind rent-free 24/7.. i am happy 2 finally share my designs ‧º·( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥)⸝♡

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.8k / 24 / soap soulmate au, part 4

...

Price takes a seat opposite you. Ghost stands behind him, massive arms crossed. Price folds his hands together.

"Tea?" he asks.

You say nothing.

"Ghost, go get us some tea."

Ghost leaves. Price examines you, drumming his fingers against the table. He acts friendly. But he's not playing. You have no doubt he'll extract the information he needs by any means necessary. You need to make sure he doesn't figure out which of your buttons to press.

"You're Soap's girl," he says.

You say nothing. His stare presses in on you as heavily as the silence, pushing your back into your seat.

"Who is he to you?"

You shift, uncomfortable in your chair. "A stranger." You roll your shoulders as if trying to shrug off the implications. "An enemy, ostensibly."

Price leans closer. "You kiss your enemies often?"

Not until Johnny walked into your patrol path. 

"Left quite the impression on Soap. You made a bit of a mark on Ghost, too. Not that it’s hard." Price leans back, giving you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "He’s got a soft spot for Soap, hm? So he doesn't want you hurt. Doesn't want Soap put out."

You remain silent, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He studies you, utterly calm. He's trying to read you. It's obvious he has some kind of game plan, and now he thinks you have one, too.

"Weren't quite planning to walk into someone like him, were you? Things happened, didn't they? Things you had to work through."

"No."

"Really. 'Cause with the way you're acting, I'd wager you had different plans for yourself. Now you're all twisted up in this. Plans got ruined because he came along. Maybe you've got your own plans, hm? Got a whole life back home. A career, clearly. Nice little house. Maybe you've got a boyfriend already."

"What do you want?" you grit out.

"Access, love," he says, like this whole interrogation is just a pleasant chat. That new base of yours, the one Graves commandeered. How do you like it?"

"Barely seen it."

"I imagine you're rather busy lately, then. Lot on your mind. Shepherd must have you working hard." You notice a muscle twitching in his jaw. He has an iron grip on his temper. "But you saw enough of it to get a good look around, hm? The layout, the security, the systems. Tell me about it."

"I don't know anything."

"Nothing?" He leans forward again. He doesn't seem to like that answer. "The security cameras. The guards. The patrols. The sensors." His voice is low. "You don't know anything about those?"

"Didn't ask."

"Hm." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug as the expression on his face hardens further. "You didn't ask." He repeats. "Didn't ask. Didn't ask..." Then he pauses, staring through you. He leans back again. "No, of course not. You follow orders. You do your job. Can't fault you for that." He speaks with a cool tone, but there's a tightness in the lines of his jaw as he says it. "And now you're here and your buddies are gone. Just you. The only target left." He lets the silence stretch out. "Do you think Graves'll come for you?"

"No."

"Hm. Why not?"

"I'm a nobody."

"Hmmmmm." His smile doesn't change, but the lines around his eyes shift as if he finds that amusing. "And you're perfectly content with that? With knowing that when you walk into that base every day, you'll just be another body for Graves to throw onto the heap?”

You hold his gaze. "Yes."

"You don't think you're worth more than that?"

You say nothing.

The smile is still there, but his eyes narrow. He's judging you. Judging your worth. You hold his gaze. He seems to recognize something in you--that you're telling the truth. You know what you are. You're a mercenary. You're expendable.

"You must have a low opinion of yourself." He sighs, crossing his arms and settling a little further into his chair. "You've accepted you're not walking out of this base, then."

You nod.

Price examines you, eyes narrow and intense. Peeling you apart. You're certainly not an idiot. Smart enough to know you're expendable; loyal enough to take orders, keep your mouth shut, and follow through without asking questions. Not the type of soldier he prefers, but in the right hands, you'd be lethal.

Tough to crack, too. He rubs his chin. Hard to threaten someone who doesn't have anything to lose.

Two sharp knocks on the door herald Ghost, who slips back inside and closes the door. He's not carrying tea.

"Might want to pick up the pace," Ghost says. "Soap's back."

You stiffen, as much as you try not to show it.

Price's gaze flicks over to you, noting the tensing of your shoulders. "He knows?"

"Affirmative, sir. Someone outside must've seen her mark and tipped him off."

At that moment, there's a banging on the door. Johnny's voice echoes from the other side. "LT!"

Hearing it is a punch to the gut.

Soap keeps knocking. "Ghost, get yer lyin' arse out here!"

Price looks at Ghost and nods toward the door. "Go on, then, handle it."

Ghost curses under his breath and slips outside.

"Hell's fuckin' bells, LT, what's goin' on?"

Ghost's reply is too low and muffled to catch.

"Busy with what?" Soap snaps. "I know she's here. I need to see her."

Ghost's reply this time sounds harsher.

"Like hell I'm not. That's my goddamned soulmate, aye? My girl. I've got a right to see her. You'll not keep me from the one person in the whole bloody world that's mine."

"Captain's interrogating her." Ghost's tone is low and loud now, a warning. "You don't get special privileges with her."

Soap lets loose a string of colorful curses. You can make out roughly half of them through his accent. "What does Price think she's got that's so bloody important I don't get to know about it?"

"She's a Shadow, Johnny. Chrissake."

"Aye, an' she's in that room goin' it alone. She needs me."

Your heart twists in your chest, and it forces out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It's eating at your resolve. Just hearing him speak about you is making you want things you shouldn't. He sounds like he wants to protect you. Like you're worth something to him. You try to shake it out of your head. You're a prisoner here. This isn't a love story. He doesn’t love you. He doesn't know you.

Then you look up, and your blood goes cold. Price is staring at you, and he's smirking.

His eyes move over you, dissecting you piece by piece, and you feel your expression revealing too much. He saw your mask slip. He saw what you're concealing.

"I'll be damned." His smirk grows. "I thought Shadows were all cold-blooded bastards."

Your mouth twitches like it wants to bare teeth. "Go to hell."

"Ghost," he calls mildly at the closed door, "get in here. And bring Soap, would you?"

No no no no. Panic washes over you. You pull at your cuffs, feeling yourself lapse into a freeze response. Not Johnny. You can't face him. You try desperately to get a grip on your body's reaction, to remember your training.

You turn your head away from the door and fix your eyes on the opposite corner of the room. Among the many rifles and launchers racked on the walls, you find a pistol and you concentrate on it as hard as you can. You study the polish smudged near the mouth of the barrel. The scarred grip.

Behind you, the door opens.

Soap is across the room in moments. He kneels next to you, his hands falling to your arm, to your shoulder, your neck. His thumb brushes across one of the many cuts on your cheek.

You feel outside of yourself. Soap seems too fixated on your state of being to notice.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ. What did you rat bastards do to my girl?" he growls.

"She did this to herself," Ghost says. He puts his hand on Soap's shoulder. "And we need her restrained while we question her--"

"Back off," Soap warns, brushing his hand away. "Am not dealin' with you right now."

Price cuts in, voice firm. "Soap, cool off. Now."

Soap's temper flashes hot. His jaw clenches. His muscles tense. But he takes a deep, steadying breath. "Aye, Captain," Soap says. He straightens up, his hands falling away from your face. But it's clear his blood is still simmering. "Permission to remove her cuffs."

"Negative," Price says. Soap starts to say something, but Price cuts him off. "No. She's unpredictable. You know that as well as we do. We can't afford to trust her until we understand what Graves' orders are."

Soap curls and uncurls his fists, evidence of the sheer will he's exerting to keep his feet planted where they are. "And what do you expect me to do? Just leave her here? Not say a word to her?"

That smirk curls Price's lips again. "Quite the opposite. I'd like you to do the talking for us."

Price stands and gestures to Ghost again, and Ghost guides Soap by the shoulder over to him. Soap resists on principle for a moment before his mind catches up and he walks stiffly to the other side of the table.

“She has information we need," Price says. "Alejandro, remember? Once that's squared away, we'll need no hostage. You understand me?"

There's a beat of silence.

"You want me to interrogate her," Soap says.

"I want access," Price replies.

"And once I have the information?"

"Then she’s all yours. You can do whatever you like. Let her go. Hell, drive her to the airport if you want. But until then" --Price's hand lands on Soap's shoulder and pushes him down into the interrogator's seat across from you-- "she doesn't leave this room. You understand?"

You feel Soap's eyes on you.

"Fine. I'll do it. But it's gotta be me and her. No one else. You let me do my job the way I know it needs to be done."

"Hm." Price glances at you. You're still concentrating on the pistol on the far wall. "That's just fine. Ghost, let's give 'em some time alone."

Ghost follows Price out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Sir?" Ghost's voice is low and uncertain.

"Trust me, Soap is the leverage we needed. He'll do just fine.”

Ghost is quiet for a moment. "If he keeps his head on straight."

Price hums in agreement, his smile genuine now. "If he keeps his head on straight."

...

← previous part / [part 4] / next part →

more Soap / masterlist tag

[alchemyfreak321]

Takes after his Captain he does!

[bignostalgias]

and turn the white snow red as strawberries in the summertime

[eddie-redcliffe]

Stede was tired of spending another evening at the Badmintons', always surrounded by the same posh nobs, so he decided to explore what had been the hot topic during dinner; the neighbouring house where weird things were happening... But those stories weren't true, they were just trying to scare Stede, right?

[starry-bi-sky]

Names, Marbles, and Fae-vors - More Lore on my Changeling Danny Au

In my last post I talked about the Infinite Realms and the three different planes existing inside it - the Long Far, Home to the Ancients and Celestial Beings. The Fey Wilds, Home of the Fey and other such Mythological Constructs. And the Ghost Zone, Home to the Mortal Spirits. - as well as three of the different ways beings inside the Infinite Realms can travel between planes; the Lake Portals, the Cave Tunnels, and the Starflare Currents. The Lake Portals and the Cave Tunnels don't have an official term for them yet, but I'll come up with something :).

In this post we'll be talking about some of the abilities of the fey! Specifically the things they're most popularly known for: their name stealing and etiquette thing.

For those who are not as well-versed in Fey Lore, or need a refresher, (and because I just want to yap infodump), one of the first rules you learn when interacting with the Fey is that you never, ever, say "thank you" or "I'm sorry" to them! Which is crazy, because they're really big on etiquette and being polite to each other, which is why one of their epithets is "the Good Neighbor/s". So why should you not say two phrases most commonly used when being polite to someone?

There are two big reasons for this, and the reason I'll be focusing on for this au is because, to the Fey, saying "Thank You" is acknowledgement of a debt that's owed to them. It turns the action or gift into something transactional, and results in a verbal contract that the receiver must then repay later down the line -- and whatever point in time, and with whatever the Fey they are indebted to sees fit. Whether that be food, valuables, or your firstborn child.

The other big reason is because some Fey just think it's rude, and view "thank you" as something that dilutes their act of kindness, and/or implies that they are there to serve you. One of the best summarizations I've seen for fey is that they're bros; they're doing this because they think you're friends -- or something similar to the sort. It's deeply insulting to do all these nice things for a friend, only for that friend to reveal that they don't view you the same way at all.

It's for similar reasons that you also shouldn't say, "I'm sorry" either, except instead of repaying a gift, you are now making reparations for a wrong you have done. A misdeed must be repaid in full, now how are you going to make it up to them? And also because well, I imagine that if saying "thank you" is seen as rude, "I'm sorry" is the exact same way because it dilutes the act.

If you're in a situation where you must say "thank you" or "i'm sorry" there are ways to get around it. "I'm grateful", "you're too kind", "I apologize", or "I feel regret" are just some examples I saw used.

NOW! How is this used in my Changeling AU? The Fey work by these same rules, the only difference is that I've added a physical aspect to it! If Fey are capable of stealing the abstract and turning the incorporeal corporeal, then lets run with it!

"Thank Yous" and "I'm Sorrys" are debts, and Fey can magically bound you into a verbal contract with that alone. However, it's not uncommon -- and actually pretty standard -- for Fey to weave the excess magic of that debt into something physical. They create these delicate-looking, iridescent threads that they then weave into their hair for decoration. And in some areas of the Fey Wilds, use it as a way to show off wealth and/or their own wit.

Ever heard of Fairy Hair? Yeah, same concept.

Debt Threads, as I am temporarily calling them, are thin and airy, and not that much thicker than gossamer. Since it's a debt that is intended to eventually be paid back, it's not practical -- nor is it seen as such -- to use the threads for anything more than temporary cosmetics. As a result, they're usually used for decorating the hair, but some crafty fey use their threads to decorate other appendages, or as form of makeup. Despite their dainty appearance, the threads are actually very sturdy and can only be unweaved by the Fey that created it.

You can, technically, take back your debt thread. However, the threads are made using excess magic of the debt, and not made of the magic of the debt itself, which is why it's so thin and airy. So if you do manage to get it, congrats! All you've got is some pretty string and a pissed off feyrie whose hair you probably just yanked out.

Danny's managed to accrue a few "debts" before he realizes he's a fey, mostly from his friends and sister -- although there are a few from his parents, and some from the other student body from when he was unknowingly and instinctually doing Fey Bullshit. As a result, he starts forcing Sam and Tucker and Jazz to stop thanking him for things, and typically makes them repay him through petty, menial stuff. Like getting him food, or buying him a small but relatively inexpensive trinket he's been eyeing for a while. Never usually anything super important - it's his own way of apologizing for indebting them to him in the first place.

As for his parents... well, he'll hold onto those debts for now. Having a way to magically get them off his back with no questions asked is a boon he's pretty willing to keep close to his chest, and no amount of persuasion will convince him otherwise. Sorry Jazz, Fey side wins out on this one. As for some of the students he's got, Danny manages to psych himself up and release some of them from their contracts without repayment -- even if it makes his bones itch.

AND NOW THE NAMES! You never give a Fey your name because they say everything literally. "Can I have your name?" is a literal question -- they are asking for your name, and thus ownership over you. The other thing is that Names have power, if a fey knows your Full Name they can make you do things for them -- however it goes both ways so you could do the same thing if you learn a Fey's name.

Knowing a Name and owning a Name are two different things, with owning a Name being, naturally, more dangerous as you are basically submitting yourself to permanent indentured servitude, among other things. Knowing a Name can be risky because it results in being more susceptible to fey charms, enchantments, and requests.

But! I digress! Just like how Thank Yous and I'm Sorrys can be turned into a physical object, so can Names! This is not obligatory, nor is it recommended to do often because unlike debt threads, these can be taken back, but it happens!

Names can be trapped in these little, colorful glass-like orbs -- marbles, they're marbles/pearls. They can be trapped in what are basically magic marbles, and just like debt threads, be used for decoration. They're more versatile though, and are used for different things since unlike debt threads, the pearls are meant to be permanent! They make beautiful jewelry, since the pearls come in various different colors depending on the person it once belonged to, and the intent behind its creation.

The marbles have a hard outer shell, with the cores having a fluid, shimmery appearance. Look up liquid core dice, and Name Marbles have a similar appearance, just more... ethereal, with different shades of the same color swirling inside. Not two pearls look the same, and even ones that have similar colors or appearances have subtle differences in them that are imperceptible to the mortal eye. Some pearls look like the deepest trenches of the ocean, blacks and dark blues swirling around each other as flecks of bioluminescence float inside. While others look like a lilac winter sunset, with hand-held purples bleeding into pink and gold.

Convincing Danny to return the Names he's gotten is harder than convincing him to absolve the debts. It takes a lot more psyching up on his part to actually do it, and more verbal coaxing and negotiating on his friends' part. Because on an instinctual fey level, those names are rightfully his. For all intents and purposes, he was given those names freely and without reservation, and so to be told that he has to return what were essentially gifts to him is... deeply distressing.

Lots of cognitive dissonance there. His human-raised brain and morals know why he needs to give them back, and he feels bad for owning them. But his new changeling-baby fey-brain is deeply upset at the prospect, and is a liittle bit stronger than the once-human part of him. He rapidly becomes overwhelmed when trying to convince himself to return the Names. He does, eventually, end up doing it, but he's unwillingly upset the whole time.