#like add a legacy appearance option or smth

[prism-forgone]

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rant in tags and my feedback comment slash expose slash opinion piece here x

[front-facing-pokemon]

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

HEY HI HELLO ANOTHER REQOESY IM SORRY

okay so um how bout the reader and a few others (or maybe not a few others whatever you think is best) decide to be idiots and go to this abandoned mansion or smth and foul legacy’s the ghost/demon???

and then instead of him tracking u down and taking ur life it appears that he’s friendly?????

random anon

me: this is so cute!!! i love it :D my brain: mhm, now what you're gonna do is add angst me: why- my brain: do it, buddy. me: *sigh* ok,,,

aha. i'm sorry not sorry >:)c also??? i really didn't know what to title this i'm sorry </3

~ * ~ Haunted Mansion HCs

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, little bit of Angst at the end

Warnings for rainstorms, thunder, lightning, fear, mold, decay

~ * ~

-Just your luck -The one day you have business outside of the Harbor, and it starts raining -It’s just dumping buckets on you and unfortunately you’re also in the middle of NOWHERE -Well no, you’re in Liyue, but nowhere near anywhere decent enough to stay -You wander around for a while, quietly dreading the approaching darkness of night, before you spot something in the distance -It’s a house, you see as you approach, tucked away between the trees and mountains -Perhaps once it would’ve been grand, but its large size was offset by the fact that the foundation of it was all but rotting away, the wooden beams soft and crumbling and the tiles on the roof chipped and washed out in color -Unfortunately, it’s the only option you have, and you reluctantly make your way to the door and pull it open, the wood crackling and crunching under your insistent tugs -It smells like mold and wet dust when you finally wrench the door open (the handle yanking off in your hand) and you grimace with disgust -But it’s relatively dry, or at least dryer than outside, and you venture deeper inside to investigate -Every room has the same dilapidated interior as the main hall, framed with tattered cloth and smelling strongly of mothballs -You gently push a door open, giving way to a once-luxurious bed and dresser, now damp and rotting. A bedroom -The mattress on the bed frame is worn but serviceable, and you sit down with a small poof, clouds of dust flurrying about -Lightning flashes outside and you jump with fright, wondering if the Archon of Inazuma had temporarily invaded Liyue just to scare you out of your wits -Rubbing your arms, you raise from the bed and pace around the room to take your mind off the storm outside, eyes falling on the old set of drawers in the room -Usually you’d feel bad for snooping… Actually, that’s a lie. You like snooping, especially when there aren’t any consequences, and you open the mysterious drawers with delight -It’s full of old clothes- what you expected. But atop the threadbare piles of fabric lays a softly gleaming object, all purple and silver, humming with an odd, out-of-place energy -You reach out to touch it and it shines with a flash, sending sparks of painful electricity across your skin as you yelp and yank your hand away, still staring at the object in wonder -Your raptured attention is quickly shattered when a loud creaking noise outside of the room makes itself apparent and you snap your head around, goosebumps dancing on your arms -A low, rumbling growl filters through the thinning walls and wood, a story Zhongli told you coming to mind, about “The House of Eleventh Hour”- a cursed domain inhabited by a “Star-Torn Beast” that had gone mad with loneliness -Heavy footsteps plod down the hallway towards your room, a room with one window a story into the air and solid stone underneath, which would surely kill you if you jumped and landed in a heap, bones snapped into pieces -You press yourself against the wall, hugging your legs in an attempt to seem smaller and disappear into the peeling paint behind you -A light beams into the room, the footsteps drawing nearer and nearer as you squeeze your eyes shut until they stop right in front of you -There’s a clunking sound, almost like armor shifting, then silence -And a rumble. A light, gentle rumble, almost sounding concerned as a claw slowly traces over your cheekbone. The clawed hand reaches under your chin, tilting it carefully upwards, and you crack open your eyes, blinking -A creature looms over you, its singular luminescent eye glowing in the darkness, illuminating the horns that frame its face and head. It’s kneeling on the ground, yet still towers over you as it lightly squishes your cheek -You’re shaking, both from fear and the cold, and the beast whines quietly, moving you take you in its arms and only hesitating when you lean away, petrified -It trills worriedly, looking around the room before pulling something from the drawer- a picture, a photograph of a young man with ginger hair and deep blue eyes -You take it

from the creature’s claws, and it gestures to the photo before tapping itself in the chest with a hum -Me. -Tracing the man’s faded features lightly, you look back up at the beast, eyes wide, and it- he- nods -There’s a moment of stillness as you lose yourself in thought, then he reaches out again, slowly, and gathers you in his arms -He rests his chin on top of your head, letting out a lazy rumble of approval when you tentatively hover your hands over the considerable amount of soft fluff around his neck -You sink your fingers into the fluff, combing the soft fur and snuggling your face into it. The creature hums and drapes himself over you -A light buzz runs through his body- he’s purring!! You can feel the sensation in your bones, gentle and comforting, pulling you away from the storm and blanketing you in soft sound -The rain taps on the window, but it’s the only remnant of the world outside, the remaining space filled by your new friend’s purrs and coos as he nestles closer to you -He’s lulling you to sleep, perhaps unintentionally, kneading at your sore shoulders and back and bumping his forehead to yours. Who knew the so-called “Star-Torn Beast” could be so sweet and affectionate? -As you doze off, the last thing you feel is a clawed hand cradling your cheek like a glass sculpture -But it’s the cold grass that wakes you, dew clinging to your eyelashes and hair as you shiver with chill -You sit up, rubbing your eyes. The mansion is gone, leaving you surrounded by rain and stone, no giant purring moth-creature in sight -Getting to your feet you still shake from the sudden cold, legs prickling from being asleep for so long, and you clap your hands together to warm them -Your brows furrow in confusion, involuntary tears pricking at your eyes (to your disdain) -Was it all imaginary? -You shake your head quickly to clear it- the storm should be easing up soon, and you can’t afford to waste anymore time -To further ward off the biting cold, you shove your hands in your pockets, only to feel and hear something crinkle in one of them -You grasp the oddly flat object by a corner and tug it out- a small slip of paper that you unfold twice and thrice until it lays in your palm -A faded photograph. A young man with ginger hair and deep blue eyes