#ghost au
alright so we stumbled across this idea while derping to eachother and it actually sounded really fun so let me know if you guys would read this or not so i know if i should write it!
- so you’re basically a ghost because you’ve been killed by got7’s rudeness
- yup you’re actually /dead/
- you woke up one day and your soul just left your body because they were just too much to handle
- especially bambam these days wtf
- not chill dude
- so you decide to take revenge duh who do these little shits think they are?
- you’re invisible
- but you can touch living people and objects in the real world
- you’re still invisible
- IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES
- okay but first you need to go to the ghost realm
- there are rules okay
- lol jk
- do whatever the fuck you want you’re a ghost
- Yoongi greets you at the gates because he’s heaven’s receptionist
- ‘welcome to AfterLife™, what can i do for you?’
- ‘uhm idk maybe explain wtf happened to me?’
- *sigh* ‘another dead fangirl? Shit they keep coming out of nowhere. Come with me.’
- Yoongi takes you with him on a tour through the ghost realm and teaches you the ways of haunting
- like what to do and what not to do
- ofcourse you can do whatever you want but just don’t be a lame ghost okay
- ‘writing messages on the wall with blood is so cliché’
- ‘keep knocking shit off of shelves and throw things across the room though that shit’s classic’
- ‘doesn’t matter really humans shit themselves at the smallest things’
- You spend some time together and he becomes your best ghost friend
- until you meet another ghost fangirl
- she’s also killed by got7
- you seeee where i’m goiiiing?
- ofcourse you do
- payback time bitch
- let’s mess with these boys
- have a little fun with them
- pull their pants down at random moments
- ‘Who the fuck pulled down my pants??’
- ‘Wait you too?? so it wasn’t you?!’
- imagine their faces
- priceless
- BamBam and Jackson share a room right
- ‘Bam stop fucking around with the lights already! It’s not fucking funny!’
- And then BamBam just comes into the room after getting a glass of water
- also ghost blowjobs
- alot of them
- you’re sucking their dick in the morning and they can feel it but they can’t see anyone lol
- they don’t stop you though those rude ass pervs
- you just generally make them confused af and they start going crazy bc wtf is going on?!
- it’s gonna be a hella funny, wild ride guys
- like just watch the video of them getting startled by a prank just do it
- they’re such big babies
- the other members of bts will appear as well at some point
there’s so much more though but here is some brainstorming! let me know what you think about it :)
-Admin E.
Past, Present, Future
So anyways the nonexistent, unnamed ghost au now exists and is named (don’t be surprised if it changes at some point.)
Summary:
To say David Jacobs was unhappy about moving to a new state three months into his senior year would be an understatement. He knew he should be happy that his dad had found a new job, but he couldn’t help but wish he’d gotten a job that didn’t require him to share a room with his twelve-year-old little brother.
David used to think the hardest part of senior year would be working on his college applications, not learning how to coexist with a middle schooler.
As it turns out, the actual hardest part would be none of the above.
The biggest problem in David’s life was the fact that his new house was haunted by three teenage ghosts. And he’s the only one who can see them.
To think he used to be worried about finding a date to prom.
~~*~~
David Jacobs discovers three ghosts living in his new house and now has to figure out how to help them cross over. Oh, and did he mention one of the ghosts just happens to be very *very* attractive?
Read it on AO3!
ghost au where Keith is obsessed with horror movies and Lance is… interested
idk guys, I just like supernatural stuff :)
New fic rec!
Yuuei Survival Guide
by Lowlywriter
Izuku can see ghosts! He makes friends with one named Oboro when he starts at UA. This is probably my favorite of the ‘Izuku sees ghosts’ au’s.
I don’t think its been hinted yet if this is a fic where Kurogiri is or is not also Oboro, so I guess we’ll see. Luckily the author usually updates realitivly often, which is always a plus!
This fic also has Dadzawa and Dadmic, which instantly makes it ten times better. Sorry Inko, but you’re a bad mother in this one, too.
Theres maybe a liiitttttle bit of All Might bashing? If you squint. I imagine it’s just there because it’s seems difficult to make a fic where Izuku both has All Might as a mentor and yet gets put in Aizawa’s custody instead, without bashing All Might at least a little. He still comes off as being in character though, so there’s that.
I’m really anticipating when Izuku finally comes clean to Aizawa and Hizashi about seeing ghosts, and of course specifically Oboro…
⚠️ Nothing major I can think of to warn for, except ghosts maybe. Oh wait also homelessness, child neglect, and abandonment, that too.
Plot: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Writing: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Izuku steps towards the other teen, holding his hand out to shake, “I’m Midoriya Izuku by the way. We haven’t officially met yet, right? I don’t remember seeing you at the Entrance Exam?”
The blue-haired boy pauses, studies his hand uncertainly before shrugging. “Shirakumo Oboro,” he introduces in return, hand phasing right through Izuku’s when he goes to return the handshake. Shirakumo doesn’t seem surprised by it, but Izuku whips his hand back when the intense chill climbs up his arm.
or,
Izuku tries to pretend eveything is okay even though his homelife is crumbling around him, there’s an insanely powerful Quirk that’s not entirely his coursing through his veins, he suddenly knows his childhood hero, All Might, and to top it all off, he seems to have befriend a pastel blue-haired ghost that has way too much insider knowledge on Izuku’s new homeroom teacher, and English teacher. He’s really just trying to survive Yuuei…
This one is only a chapter long and makes no promises about updates, but the premise is so great and honestly even after only a chapter it’s competing for my favorite ghost quirk Izuku, so I’m recing it, five stars. And sense they’re both ghost quirk Izuku I’m tacking it onto my previous ghost fic rec.
Sometime Before Dawn
Plot: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Writing: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
⚠️Warning for death, grief, and just a lil bit of gore.⚠️
Izuku’s got a secret.
He’s a quirkless UA gen-ed student by day and professional consultant for the dead by night. He writes his chem homework before breaking into houses, finding lost rings, uncovering long-buried family secrets— anything to help the ghosts he can see on a daily basis peacefully pass on. All for a price, of course.
He’s doing fine all on his own. He stays under the radar, hidden in the shadows, content with leaving the rest of the world alone if it means going about his own business.
But when something breaks into his school and pro hero Eraserhead is presumed dead, Izuku is the only one who can see him, much less help. He’s thrust straight into the path of a villain who can bend the rules of life and death itself, uncertain of who he can trust, evading capture from both the bad— and the good— guys. All while being followed around by a sleep-deprived ghost, of course.
Day 6 - Spectral-
Something of my contribution to 17 Ghost-AU
Connor crying at Conrads grave and the latter being unable to comfort him
Post link
Normally I do three sketches on one page for the ghost au, however kaito is extra and his full body sketch took up the whole page
Still ghost Kaito has joined his classmates now! I put him off because I do not like drawing his hair
- If you look at Kokichi’s design you’ll notice he’s wearing Kaito’s jacket, this is Kaito’s actual jacket while the one Kaito is wearing is made purely of his ability to control “stardust” and his inability to let go of his hero status
- So once you get his breakdown at the end of his fight, it’ll disappear he can still control the “stardust” making up his jacket afterwards, it just kinda loosely follows behind him instead
- Kaito is a mid point boss fight, you have to beat him before you can fight maki and himiko
- he’s designated himself as the protector of the others so he’ll show up in particularly dangerous areas of the school, like ones that might collapse, and help you (more specifically kaede) get through them safely, during these segments, if you know the secret paths to where kokichi likes to hide and have kaito with you, rather than being able to increase Kokichi’s friendship level Kokichi will just immediately make up some excuse to leave, however you can come back to these places later after beating kaito and talk normally
- Kaito will always leave once he knows your safe, saying he needs to go check on one ghost or the other, of course he always leaves with a heroic speech and smile
- as you help more ghosts he’ll talk to you more during the dangerous terrain segments, which is where you can start to push him to his fight, you can ask him about his actual feelings and the like to make him snap, he’ll insist that he’s fine over and over while his smile gets too big and very strained before attacking you while insisting you’re the enemy trying to tear down the hero and he must defeat you
- once you beat him he’ll have his breakdown, where he’ll reveal his incessant need to be the hero comes not just from his up bringing to “be a man” and suppress all feelings, but also because he feels he failed to protect anyone during the game, that so many looked up to him and he failed them so he didn’t deserve to be sad now. He has a second chance so he has to help those he didn’t last time and be everyone’s hero, if he show’s weakness in his eyes he’s letting them down again
- If you choose to befriend him, you’ll help him see that most of his classmates don’t want or need heroes, after all they all screwed up one way or another they find solace in each other through that, and that they all want Kaito. For everything he is, even his weaknesses because they care about and like *him* not the facade he puts up
sketch request for @chloefraazers, who wanted the ghost kiss from my ghost Nil fic I’ll Believe in Anything!
Next
…
“Howdy doodie, ghostly gaggle, how goes it?” Remus asked, reappearing in their commons, keeping his voice a low almost whisper, despite his buzzing energy, careful of disturbing Virgil.
He’d been laid across the couch, his head in Roman’s lap, who was absently playing with his hair, a slight frown on his face as he gazed at Virgil’s too pale, too still form. He was a bit surprised, to see Patton and Janus were gone from the room, he figured they’d be hovering like a pair of mother hens, though he wasn’t as surprised to find Logan missing, no doubt he was trying to figure out what exactly the living occupants of the house had done to their little shadow.
“Hey, Rems.” Roman murmured noncomitally in response, not breaking his focus on Virgil for a single moment, and he frowned, slipping onto the armrest behind Roman, perching atop it, wrapping his arms around Roman, resting his head on his shoulder.
“It isn’t your fault, Ro.” Roman huffed, shaking his head.
“But it is! I drove him away, I’m the one who said those hurtful things, I was scared, and so I scared him, and Janus was right, who am I, to make him more afraid of himself than he already is?” Roman’s voice cracked, and Remus could feel the remorse and guilt practically radiating off of Roman.
“But you didn’t mean it, Ro. I know you didn’t. I say shit all the time I don’t really mean, and you still forgive me for it. This isn’t any different.”
“It is so. I’ve known you for over a century. Nothing you could say would drive me away, but I keep thinking…”
“A dangerous pastime, I know.” Remus quoted, making Roman huff again, a tinge of laughter to it, that he counted as a win, along with the small flicker of a smile.
“What if you had said that, about me, when you first were drawn here? How different, would it have been? I was so far gone, already. If you’d treated me as I treated him, I don’t think I would have come back from it.” Remus hummed, thinking.
It was true, that by the time he’d wandered to the property, drawn like a moth to a flame by the unstable energy, the swirling miasma of hate and negativity and power, Roman had been barely recognizable as a human soul. He’d burned so bright and angry, instead of becoming a wraith, he was more likely to become a banshee, to howl to the winds, to rampage and scream and tear until the sound sent the place crumbling down around him. The edges of corruption were there, sinking into his spirit, and Roman was right that the wrong move would have sent him over. It was one of the very few times Remus had been patient in his life, weathering the worst of Roman’s rage, the worst of the power directed his way, at his invasion of the space, until Roman had worn himself out enough he was nearly lucid, enough to understand that Remus didn’t mean any harm, anyways.
“I don’t think so.” He said, ponderingly, Roman stiffening in surprise. He slid off the arm of the couch, idly standing and tapping his chin as he thought. “I don’t think that would have broken you. I think it would have made you mad. Angry. Angry at me, which would have been just as effective, as the more… gentle approach I took.”
“Remus, me being angry was the whole problem!” Remus shook his head fervently.
“No no no, you being angry at your family was the problem. You resenting being stuck in a place you hated was the problem. You were directing all your emotion at something intangible, at a memory of a thing that didn’t exist anymore. I think if I’d given you something to hate in the now, given you me, to really, truly rage at, it would have brought you to the present. It would have made you realize what was past is past, and there’s nothing to be done about it. I think we would have gotten to the same place, just down a different road.” He looked up, nearly laughing at the slightly awestruck expression on Roman’s face, before shrugging and smirking. “Or you would have lost your marbles entirely, who’s to say?” Roman snorted, freezing as Virgil shifted, though he didn’t wake, merely rolled over onto his side. “He’s a lot like you. There’s so much emotion, bottled up in there. Loathing and sadness and fear, of course, but under it… under it all is rage, Roman. I don’t think he even realizes it’s there, but he’s burning with it. I think that’s what he’s really afraid of, all of that anger, that he’s directing at himself, until it implodes.”
“He needs to acknowledge it’s there at all. That he has a right, to his anger. He’s been forced to hide everything for so long, Rems, it’s no wonder it’s all trying to escape, that he doesn’t know how to handle it, doesn’t even recognize it.”
“He’ll get there. It’s all still so new to him, Ro, he needs time. You’ve had a century to deal with your baggage. He’s had a few months, most of which he spent hiding. The best you can do is apologize, and make sure you’re here for him. Now, stop worrying so much, and try and relax. The kid is empathic as hell, your stress is making him stress.” With that, Remus vanished, leaving Roman alone with his thoughts, and Virgil, who did have a slight crease to his forehead, a slight downturn to his lips.
“he’s right, you know. You’ll get there. And I can’t wait to see it.”
…
“Remus! What-“ Logan cut himself off, eyes wide as he looked upon the scene. He’d been a bit worried about Remus’s silence, since the summoning, that always meant he was up to something, but this… this is not what he expected.
Thomas was on the floor of the basement, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he drew in chalk, having marked out the rough outline of a circle, a few sigils already in place, Remus hovering over his shoulder.
“Alright, now, copy this one.” Remus drew a shape in the air with practiced ease, the glowing thing pulsing for a moment, before slowly fading away. Thomas leaned back over, copying the pattern. “So this one is basically another protection one. Not that the ghosts here are intending to hurt you, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’ll keep any power from the circle from rebounding back on you, if it snaps.”
“It can do that?”
“Yuppers, and it isn’t always pretty. These things are powerful, kid, and so are the spirits you summon. If the circle is too weak, it won’t be able to contain them, too strong, and it’ll sap everything from them. You got lucky, the first time, in that the power rebounded onto Virgil, instead of you.”
“Remus! What are you doing?” He hissed finally, Remus turning his head one hundred eighty degrees to face him. grinning.
“Oh heya, teach! Just tutoring my newest student!”
“You shouldn’t be telling him any of this! This is dangerous! He could hurt himself, he could summon someone he doesn’t mean to, you should be discouraging this!” Remus snorted.
“You know I’m always one to entertain a bad idea.”
“What!? You think this is a bad idea?!” Thomas asked, looking between Remus and the space he seems to be staring at, where he’s sure another ghost is. If he squinted, he could almost see the outline of something, like a heat haze over asphalt, the wavy distortion of… something. He heard Remus continuing to bicker, but slowly, another voice started to trickle in, though it was distant, like an old radio broadcast, crackling and popping with static.
“-puts all of us at risk!” He hissed sharply, pressing a hand to his temple at the rebounding voice, echoing through his mind, and for a moment, the form was crystal clear, a sharp featured man, dressed a bit old fashioned, like something out of his grandparent’s photographs, eyes flashing and fists clenched in anger. For a moment, the being’s eyes glanced to his, widening minutely as he met them, looked right at him, then he blinked, and it was gone.
Logan reeled backwards, hand clutching at his chest, words knocked out of him. He’d seen the recognition, the startled, amazed look, on Thomas’s face, reflected on his own.
“he saw me.” He whispered, shocked into stillness, eyes darting to Remus. “how… it’s not finished, he didn’t… how did he see me?”
“He’s got raw talent, Logan, that’s what I was trying to tell you. Not just anyone can use a Ouija board and actually have it connect with the spirit realm, and that ramshackle shitty ass summoning circle? That shouldn’t have done a thing, it was so poorly constructed. At most, it should have attracted me to its energy, but instead it summoned Virgil, the one with the most power and the least desire to be seen. That’s power, innate power. I’m not surprised, that with more exposure to us, he’s starting to see you guys, hear you. I wouldn’t be surprised if those abilities kept growing. You’re in for the ride, kid, whether you like it or not.” Remus added, winking at Thomas, who was still slightly stricken, staring at where he’d seen the ghost.
“Which one was that? Or, were you? Not… not one of the ones, who used the board, and definitely not Virgil.” Remus looked at Logan, brow raised.
“Up to you, if you wanna share.” Logan inhaled deeply, just to center himself, before focusing on projecting outward just slightly. If Remus was right, that slight increase in power should be enough for Thomas to hear him, though not see him.
“I am Logan. It is… a surprise, to be meeting you in this manner. I can’t imagine having Remus as a teacher has been too enlightening.” He watched with interest as the man winced again, staring right at him, though there was no recognition this time. Fascinating, so Thomas could sense where his words were coming from, even without manifestation of a physical form.
“I mean, it was either learn or get tormented until I died, soooo…” He glared at Remus, who shrugged, kicking up his feet and floating reclined in the air.
“What? If he’s got the knack for it, it’s better he knows what he’s doing with it, otherwise he’s just a danger to everyone. If they kept fooling around how they were, they were gonna summon something a lot more powerful and a lot less friendly than they, or we, could handle.”
“I… suppose I cannot argue with that logic. But, from now on, I will be helping with and observing these lessons. I don’t trust you not to intentionally mislead him into something dangerous.” Logan countered, eyes narrowed.
“Ugh, fiiiine. I wasn’t gonna do anything too bad, anyway. Just a minor imp! Just for fun!”
“What!?” Thomas screeched again, Remus enjoying the slightly horrified look on his face far too much to care about the face palm occurring on Logan’s end.
“He is a poltergeist. He literally feeds on chaos. Any opportunity to cause it will not be passed up. And as much as he wants to protect us, he also wants to have some fun, often at the expense of the living members of the household. There’s a reason this property was so cheap. It goes on the market every few years.”
“The shortest stay was six months! A lot flies died for that victory. RIP squadron alpha. RIP.”
“I… ok. Not even gonna ask. Thanks, Logan. I’m… imma go process this. Somewhere. Anywhere.” Remus shrugged, following Thomas up the basement steps.
“Suit yourself! You know where to find me!” With a twirl, Remus vanished, leaving behind the faint scent of sulpher, just for fun. Logan rolled his eyes and wordlessly followed, his own mind still spinning.
Thomas could hear him. He could see him.
He wasn’t sure, exactly, what that made him feel.
…
He was trying.
He really, really was, trying.
But he couldn’t get Roman’s words out of his head.
And he’d heard the others, talking to the air, talking to him, they probably thought he didn’t, but he’d always been good at lurking in shadows, in pretending to not exist, he wasn’t surprised, he was able to mask his presence well enough no one could sense him near.
He’d heard Patton and Janus’s pleas. He’d heard Logan’s well reasoned arguments. He’d heard Roman’s apologies. He knew Roman was blaming himself, that it was tearing all of them up inside, but the thing was, Roman was right.
There were too many things, that could go wrong. Too many ways he could hurt them, too many ways he could destroy them, and he refused, he refused to drag them into his self-destructive spiral.
So, he stuck to the shadows, where no one could find him. He hid in the corners and under the couches and under the beds. He didn’t use his room, not since then they’d know where he was, and he stayed away as much as he could. He was exhausted and unfocused and half even deader than he already was, but he couldn’t let himself rest or he’d fizzle into view.
The closest he’d gotten was that night, with Patton. Everyone else had already been in their own rooms, and he felt guilty, Patton was staying out there for him, after all, and the least he could do is make sure he was comfortable. And now Patton’s words were rattling around in his skull, too, fighting against Roman’s, and he felt torn in two entirely different directions.
Maybe that’s why he found himself here, lurking in the shadows of Patton’s room, melted into the ones in the corner of the room. He heard the door open, and he took a deep breath as Patton came in, flopping face first onto the bed, slightly alarmed to hear sniffling emerging from the pillow his face was shoved into.
Slowly, he emerged from the wall, his inky, tarlike form slowly forming into something more solid, something that almost felt right, though it had been so long since he’d been anything other than a blob of darkness or a splotch of shadow. But as his form settles, it feels more and more… right.
“Pa… Patton?” He asked, voice rusty and hoarse, barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. Patton gasped, shooting upwards, and all at once Patton’s eyes were on him.
“Virgil!” he flinched back at the volume, form already destabilizing, it was harder to hold now, that he hadn’t in months. “sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m glad to see you, kiddo. We’ve been worried.” He said softer, wanting to lunge, pull Virgil into a hug, but knowing he’d run if he did.
“so-rry. I-“ he flinched, a strange feeling coming over him, an almost nausea, almost vertigo, and he found himself on the ground, gasping as cold washed over him.
“Virgil!” he could tell Patton had yelled his name several times, but he couldn’t seem to hear right, the world was blurring and going fuzzy. Not just the world, he was blurring, his form bleeding away like a water color painting. He felt Patton’s hand on his arm, trying to say something, then the world shifted out from under him, Patton’s hand swiping through empty air as he vanished.
…
He stumbled hard, shoulder ramming into the wall, as he heaved in several deep breaths, trying to keep from full out panicking.
He felt weird. Solid. His body had weight, his form wasn’t flickering, he was leaning against the wall, but it wasn’t their wall. The house, he was in the house.
His breath sped again, remembering, shaking, crying, pulling at his hair as he screamed into a pillow, His words echoing in his head, he hasn’t been back here, not in the living room, since then, since he’d done it. He could feel the shadows darkening, starting to move of their own accord, starting to whisper.
“What the fwuh?” His eyes snapped open at the question, frantically taking in the scene.
Staring at him were two guys, both wearing twin expressions of shock and fear. Around his feet was a star in a circle outlined in chalk, a candle at each nexus.
“Summoning circle? What amateur fucking shit is this? Watched full metal alchemist a few too many times?” He choked out, biting sarcasm masking his fear and panic, trying to get the shifting tendrils of shadow slowly climbing the wall under control, succeeding in at least halting their growth.
“We… we were trying to summon Patton.” The shorter one said. He huffed, vision spinning.
“Well good job, dipshit, you summoned the literal opposite of that ray of sunshine. Now get me out of here!” He demanded, teeth grit against the strange cold seeping into his bones, the dark tiredness starting to fill him.
“Um. We don’t actually know how.” The taller one admitted sheepishly.
“Who are you, anyway? We only knew Patton and Roman.”
“Uh, no. You don’t get to interrogate me after practically kidnapping me.”
“Kidnapping… you showed up!” the short one, who seemed to have an attitude.
“oh yes, because I looove getting dragged to the physical plane of existence and talking to two idiots who think the funnest thing to do is harass people who probably don’t want to have memories of their recent demise brought back to the surface!” He shouted, breathing picking up again, hands clenched into fists, shadows wavering and breaking over the room, though he kept it in enough it didn’t attack, claws and glowing eyes and teeth ready to bite.
“You’re… Virgil, aren’t you?” He flinched back at that, shaking harder. “Oh shit, dude, I’m-”
“What? Sorry? Yeah, me too, now let me out!” he snarled, eyes flashing dark voids of shadow, his shadows writhing, and he found he had the anger to control them, and he hissed as one swiped through the chalk, releasing him from its hold as he struggled to stay standing, the circle giving him a truly physical form, draining his own energy to do so.
“We aren’t fucking toys. We’re people. We all died horrifically, at our hand or at others’. So next time, leave me the hell alone.” He snapped, his shadows encasing him as the solidness faded from his limbs, as his form fell to shreds, as the last of his energy was sucked from him, realizing the circle draining him dry, the crackling electric backlash of breaking the spell hit him full force, sending him reeling.
…
He fell, unceremoniously, crashing down from the ceiling and landing hard on the floor, crying out at the pain that shot through him, his vision flickering. He felt cold, icily cold, exhausted, drained, empty, barely, barely there.
“-il…-ear me? Virgil!” Roman’s panicked voice cut through his haze, though he found he couldn’t answer, couldn’t even nod. He was so purely exhausted, he was barely staying together at all. “Oh, love… it’s ok, I’ve got you.” He felt Janus lifting him up, and realized he must have landed in the living room. He thought he should be worried about that, for some reason, but his mind was already hazing over with fog. “Logan! Patton!” He called, the spirits appearing after a moment, any reprimand at being disturbed vanishing as Logan took in the state of Virgil, unconscious and form flickering, not the usual black, but a soft, faded gray. The same kind of gray that he’d seen on the others, on himself, when the wraith was draining them of their soul’s essence. Something had very badly damaged Virgil.
“What happened?” he demanded, trying to be steady, to keep Patton beside him from panicking.
“I don’t know. He… he showed up, in my room, then vanished, like he got pulled away, I tried to hold on, but I fell right through him!”
“Then he fell from the ceiling and crashed to the ground.” Roman finished, lacking his usual bravado.
“Lo, is he-“
“No, he’s not fading. Whatever started the drain has stopped, he’s stable, if very weak. An attempt at summoning, if I had to guess. Likely, they didn’t use anything to power the spell itself, so it used Virgil himself. He’s lucky he was able to break out, as he must have, for it to hit him this hard. Otherwise…” Logan trailed off, unwilling to finish that sentence, knowing from the silence the others knew his meaning.
“He was going to talk to me.” Patton said softly, tucking back a strand of Virgil’s hair, who didn’t seem to register the motion at all, lying still and pale as stone.
“He still may. He just needs to rest and recuperate, Patton. He will be all right.” Logan reassured, resting a hand on Patton’s shoulder for a moment, before turning away, trying to hide his fondness behind a frown. “Though we should figure out what exactly they did, and stop them from doing it again.”
No one noticed the green eyes glowing in the corner, alight with anger, at the state of his friend, because Virgil was a friend, whether he liked it or not. It was long past time the humans take notice of him, after all, and this would be a much needed… learning opportunity.
…
“well that could have gone better.” Thomas muttered, shivering slightly. The darkly moving shadows had vanished along with the ghost, the circle now smudged beyond recognition, the icy cold temperature of the room slowly returning to normal.
“No kidding. How’d you know that one’s name?” Joan asked, still staring at the spot he’d vanished.
“He… the real estate agent. He had to tell me, the previous tenant, Virgil… died, here. To suicide.” Joan let out a low breath, collapsing back onto the couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to their chest.
“shit. No wonder he wasn’t happy to be here.”
“It looked like it was hurting him.” Thomas murmured, remembering how Virgil was clinging to the wall, barely staying upright.
“That’s what happens when you do your research through google search, you silly billies.” They both stared at the glowing green eyes floating above them, the slow Cheshire grin forming out of nothingness to accompany it. “Someone gets hurt.” The voice growled, and suddenly it wasn’t a single pair of eyes, it was thousands, a towering mass of writhing tentacles and blindingly black light, a cavernous maw and a million gnashing, reeking tooth beaked mouths screaming.
They both gasped for air as the vision vanished just as quick as it came, a few mere seconds, a glance at the clock revealed, though it had felt like they had been trapped with that Lovecraftian creation for hours. Thomas could still feel the vibrations of the clacking beaks, hear the echoes of distant screams, and he could tell from Joan’s horrified expression, they had seen it too.
“I’m not exactly a fan, of people hurting my friends. Especially when they can’t do much in way of defense or… retaliation-“
“We didn’t mean to!” Thomas blurted, before the sinister presence could throw them into another nightmare. “We didn’t… we didn’t mean to hurt anyone. We just… Patton seemed lonely. So we were trying to find a way to actually see him, and… and we obviously didn’t do it right. And I’m sorry, for hurting him… Virgil.” He finished, a frown on his lips, thinking of the pain on the ghost’s face. “Is he… is he ok?” He asked, heart pounding a thousand beats a second, terror racing through him.
“Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting. The human has a conscience.” The voice echoed from every direction, bouncing around the room in the most disorienting pattern, one moment directly in his ear, the next all the way in the kitchen, the next above them near the ceiling, those green eyes and grin always in the corner of their eyes, always vanishing as soon as they turned to look.
“And what about you, short stack? Got anything to say for yourself, before I decide what to do with the two of you?” Joan gulped, holding the pillow tighter, knuckles white.
“Uh. He was right. Virgil. It’s not… we shouldn’t treat this like a game. You’re people. Not entertainment. But we do really want to get to know you all… to help, if we can. Even though we’re generally pretty shitty at showing it, that’s what we were trying to do. Help.” They managed, wincing as a dark chuckle rang through the room.
“Help, huh?” They yelped as they felt something cold wrap around their ankles, suddenly yanking them off the couch, dragging them across the floor, across the kitchen, to the basement door. Blinking their vision clear, adrenaline racing, they both practically held their breath as they watched a shimmering outline form, cringing as it was filled in with bones, then veins and arteries, pulsating flesh and decaying organs, finally a layer of skin growing over it all, putting a face to that Cheshire grin, the electric green eyes, as the being towered over them, smile wild and manic, eyes ablaze, a morningstar resting over his shoulder, his outfit some weird mix of sparkling satin and menacing velvet. They both flinched back as he leaned down, examining them, before extending a hand.
“Seems like you two can use all the help you can get. Now, if you’re gonna go full in on this, you gotta learn the basics, and if you abuse what I teach you…”
They shivered, seeing crimson blood splash across their hands, teeth ripping into their jugulars, shadowy creatures clawing them to shreds, screaming though no one else could hear, unable to move their bodies as inch by inch, their skin was stripped from their flesh, ants eating them from the inside out.
“And it’ll be twice as bad if you harm any of them ever again. There won’t be anywhere you can hide, that I won’t find you, and believe me, it’ll be a pleasure.” Their vision cleared, the images wiped away like fog on a bathroom mirror, forgotten nearly instantly, though the feeling of dread and terror lingered. “So. You in, or are you pussies?” Joan snorted despite themselves, earning an eye roll from Thomas, and a slight upturn of the lips from the being, though he still glared daggers at them. Thomas took a deep breath, accepting the outstretched hand, surprised as he made contact, and it helped pull him to his feet, solid, though it didn’t feel quite… real. Joan followed suit a moment later.
“Ok. I want to learn.” He answered solemnly, Joan nodding in agreement, gaze serious in a way it rarely was.
“Me too. If we’re gonna be the crazy ghost house people, we might as well really go for it.”
“It’s been a while, since I had such willing students. Oh, this’ll be fun!” He clapped, eyes swirling, teeth slightly too sharp.
“So… when do we start?” Joan asked, and Remus tsked.
“Patience. I have to get back before they wonder where I’ve went, and you have to start living like a normal person and not staying up until two scrolling tumblr!”
“What does that have to do with ghost summoning?”
“Nothing, just good life advice. Take from me, who’s never actually been alive!” Thomas and Joan exchanged a puzzled look.
“Aren’t you a ghost?” He cackled, a wild, howling sound, that sent shivers down their spines, as he wiped away tears from his eyes, floating on his back in midair.
“Oh, sweet summer children, you naive innocent fools, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise it would be so very easy to break you. No, no, no, I’m not a ghost at all. I am a poltergeist!” He declared, suddenly close to Thomas’s face, gently booping his nose, those swirling eyes far too close for comfort as they stared into his. “And you may call me Remus.”
…
“No, Joan… Listen, I’ll call you back, no, it’s fine, I’ve just started unpacking, you can come by later…” Logan watched warily as the new human shuffled boxes around, speaking ceaselessly to someone on his phone, occasionally laughing, reassuring the person that he was fine, the drive had gone well, making idle chatter.
It hadn’t been all that long. Merely three months, but he wasn’t all that surprised the house went so fast, to a first-time owner, as well, judging by the looks of the young man. No doubt at an insanely low price, thanks to the laws dictating they disclose any deaths on the property, Virgil’s having been so recent, as well. He was sure Virgil was lurking somewhere, watching all of this, or perhaps he was hiding somewhere.
They’d caught glimpses of him, here and there. Nothing much, just a flicker of shadows, a tinge of darkness, always out of the corner of the eye, always gone before they could say a single word, and it was driving all of them a bit mad.
Patton and Janus had tried everything, to get him to come out, to get him to come back, but to no avail. They still often spoke out loud, when doing things, now, holding conversations with the air, just in case Virgil was nearby, listening, reassuring him that they were there, if he needed anything, wanted anything, they were there for him. To his frustration, Logan had also started doing it, not noticing until someone called him out on it.
And Roman. Roman was worse off than the rest of them. He was miserable, he was apologizing endlessly, trying at every turn to seek him out, but if anything, that seemed to drive Virgil farther away, the sense of his presence dwindling, the paint on his door fading and chipping off, a sign that he hadn’t been in it at all, maybe since the last time they’d all seen him, which meant he wasn’t getting the rest he needed, either.
With a sigh, Logan shook himself out of his thoughts, swapping back over to the spirit plane.
“Well?” Roman asked, laying upside down on the couch.
“Young adult, thirty, brown hair, brown eyes, named Thomas. Seems nice enough.” He reported. “Didn’t seem to notice me at all, no mentions of cold spots, hearing my voice when I spoke, seems just as oblivious as the rest of them.” He commented, noticing the tenseness fading out of Patton and Janus’s shoulders, Remus’s grin growing feral.
“Good. I like a challenge.” He sighed, ignoring Remus’s commentary.
“And… any sign?” Patton asked hesitantly. He shook his head, eyes clouding with worry for a moment.
“No. I would have expected… something, but there was no hint of his presence. I don’t know… I hate not knowing things.” He muttered, falling onto the far end of the couch.
“I know, Lo, but we’ll figure this out.” Patton answered, though his own voice was tinged with disappointment.
There were some cases, rare cases, where humans could see ghosts, speak to them, as if they were just normal, still alive people. None of them had ever met someone like that, the most they got were amateur ghost hunters, in years the house sat empty, when it had still been an old plantation house, and even they weren’t very perceptive. Some humans were more sensitive, catching glimpses of things, picking up on words here or there, cold spots, hot spots, that was more common. They’d have to wait and see, if this one could pick up on any of that.
…
In hindsight, they maybe should have been more worried, when the human, Thomas’s, friend showed up, with a bottle of wine, a cactus as a housewarming gift, and a Ouija board.
But most of that stuff was just hocus pocus, as Logan said, which set Roman off, quoting what was apparently a Disney movie.
“Roman, I am begging you to shut up.” Janus moaned. “I am trying to watch these idiots.” Roman scowled, but ceased, watching the two humans laugh as they lit candles around the board, turning off the lights, to add to the atmosphere.
“What do they think candles are gonna do?” Remus asked, continuously blowing out the small flame as they tried to light the final one.
“Probably supposed to symbolize a portal to the afterlife, or something similarly ridiculous.” Logan scoffed, still watching their actions with interest.
“Ok, who should we try and talk to?” Thomas asked.
“Uhhh, Abraham Lincoln!” Joan responded, earning a startled laugh from Thomas.
“What? Why was that your go to?”
“I don’t know, it was the first famous dead person that came to mind! What was your plan, then?” Joan asked indignantly, though they were smirking too. Thomas shrugged.
“Um. Hey. Anyone here who’s friendly and not, like, gonna go all Amityville horror on us, feel free to communicate with us, using this board.”
“Dude, they’re ghosts. How are they gonna know what Amityville horror is? Since when do ghosts watch movies?”
“I don’t know! You were trying to talk to good ‘ol Abe, I feel like you don’t have room to lecture here.” They both froze as the planchet moved. Not much, not far, but it had definitely moved.
“Did that just…”
“Hoooolly shiiit.” Joan whispered, wide eyes meeting Thomas’s. Neither of them had even had their hands near the board, much less touching the planchet.
In the ghostly realm, everyone’s eyes locked on Roman, who stood frozen, mouth agape, staring at the planchet he’d bumped against while leaning in to examine the board, as easily moved as anything he summoned himself.
“Oops?” He said, shushing Logan as the two humans started speaking again.
“Ok, um, ok, that’s normal! We probably just bumped the table! Um, is… is anyone here, with us?” Thomas asked. Immediately the planchet started moving again, landing on ‘yes’.
“ROMAN! What do you think you’re doing?!” Janus hissed, and he wrung his hands.
“I-I don’t know! They asked! It seemed rude not to answer? I haven’t exactly been in this situation before, Jan!” He fired back, their own panicking mirroring the panic going on between Thomas and Joan.
“What do we have to lose?” Patton asked softly, getting everyone’s attention.
“I am unclear what you mean, Patton.” Logan said, gaze turning to him, where he sat, biting his lip, fiddling with his cardigan.
“I mean… by answering them. What do we have to lose? We’re all stuck here, anyway. It’s not like they can hurt us. And… we live here too! Shouldn’t we get to know our new roommates?” He asked, voice getting higher in pitch with each word, until he squeaked out his question.
“Who are you?” Came the question from the humans, from the board, and Roman hesitated, looking back at everybody, asking what he should do, the question evident in his eyes.
“Fine. Go ahead. Patton’s right, I suppose, there’s not much they can do, besides leave. But I will not be involved in this.” Janus sighed from the couch, retreating to his room, to avoid whatever action was coming next. Logan nodded.
“I second Janus’s sentiments. Pardon me.” With that, it was Roman, Patton and Remus, who tried to swipe the planchet, but failed, swiping right through it, letting out an annoyed squawk.
“What?! Why!?” He screeched, Roman grinning like an idiot.
“Their opening. They said…” He broke off laughing, “They said anyone who wasn’t gonna Amityville them, Ree you’re literally a poltergeist, that stupid line is keeping you from doing shit!” He laughed harder at Remus’s indignant expression, eyes flashing with ire.
“OH, they’re gonna regret that bullshit. Imma haunt them so hard it’s gonna feel like a-“
“Thank you, Remus, that’s enough!” Patton interrupted, not wanting to know the end of that sentence, and Remus vanished with a scowl and puff of black smoke. Roman rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the board, spelling out his name.
“R-o-m-a-n. Roman. Like, a Roman soldier? What would they be doing here?” Thomas asked.
“What would they be doing speaking English?” Joan piped in.
“Good lord, these two are slow.” Roman muttered, moving the planchet once more, Patton giggling at his remark.
“My name is Roman, you idiots.” He spelled out, “And I am not a roman.” The two humans stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into only slightly hysterical laughter.
“We just got called idiots… by a ghost! What even… how is this happening?” Thomas wheezed, trying to pull himself together, devolving into giggles every time he and Joan looked at each other.
“I mean, they’re not wrong!” Joan shot back, once they got their breathing back under control.
“How did you die?” Blurted Thomas, and Roman rolled his eyes.
“Oh my god, you can’t just ask people how they died!” Roman replied, enjoying the befuddlement on the two human’s faces.
“I’m… I might be wrong, but did it just make a mean girls reference?” Joan asked.
“Yes. And I use He/Him, thank you. If you must know, I was a civil war soldier. Fighting for the North, y’know, the right team? But my family were assholes and lived here so… here I am!” He answered.
“Oh, good. He’s anti-slavery and not a homophobe. Cool, cool, cool.”
“Is there anyone else, with you?” Joan asked, and Roman bit his lip, turning to Patton, who eagerly grabbed the planchet.
“Hey kiddos! I’m Patton!” His answer was met with instant bursts of laughter.
“Wow. Straight from civil war action to dad mode. Um. Hello, Patton. It’s… nice to meet the both of you? We’ve never really spoken to ghosts before. Uh, you guys…live here?” Thomas asked a bit nervously.
“Yuppers! But we’re all pretty friendly. Mostly. None of us are violent, or anything, though some can be a bit… startling at times.”
“That’s only a bit worrying. Oh god, now I’m gonna hear every noise and think it’s a ghost. Because it could be a literal ghost.” Thomas mumbles, shoving back his hair, Joan chuckling nervously.
“Yeah, good luck with that one, Thomas.” Joan answers, getting to their feet. “It’s late. I should probably be going.”
“What? No, uh uh, after this, you do not get to ditch me on my first night in a new house in a new town that you made me learn is actually haunted, though the ghosts do seem polite, no offense, guys, just a liiittle freaky.” Thomas said, gaze shifting to the board for a moment, and Patton laughed.
“He’s worried about us! That’s sweet!”
“He’s worried we’ll haunt his nightmares.” Roman muttered back, watching the humans argue back and forth, before finally agreeing.
“Alright. Uh, we’re gonna go to bed and try and sleep. So… talk to you later, I guess?”
“Yes please! This is fun!” Thomas chuckled a bit at that.
“I’m guessing that was Patton. Good night, Pat. Good night, Roman, who is not an actual Roman. Uhhh, you’re dismissed?”
“Are you a school teacher? ‘you’re dismissed. Get some style. Farewell, my fellow brother in arms, may your gay heart guide you true!” Roman replied, making them both break down into a giggling fit yet again, as they blew out the candles, setting aside the board as they got up to get ready to sleep, Patton and Roman returning to their own living room in the spirit world.
“Well, that was… interesting.” Roman said slowly.
“It was… a bit nice. Talking. To other live people.” Patton said softly, and Roman stopped, pulling Patton into a hug, which he easily melted into.
“yeah. It was. But it did still take quite a bit of energy. We should get some rest, as well.”
“I’m gonna stay out here for a little bit. Just… just in case.” Roman sighed softly, but nodded, stepping away.
“Alright. Rest well, Pat.”
…
He had been asleep for a few hours, when he blinked open his eyes at a small movement. All he caught was a deep shadow, tucking a blanket tight around him.
“Virg?” He asked softly, the shadow freezing, the room dropping in temperature with his fear, and he moved to hide away. “s okay, bud. I love you kiddo, okay? Jus want you to know.” He mumbled, smiling as his eyes drifted closed, pulling the blanket tighter with a soft sigh. “you can come talk to me, anytime. I won tell. Promise.” He felt a soft pat against his hand, then the shadow slipped away, though Patton was sure he felt a little better than before.
…
“Patton?” They both looked up at the sound of the door opening, Janus slipping inside, surveying the scene. Virgil was still curled against Patton, eyes red and hands a bit shaky, though he seemed alright otherwise.
“H-hi.“ Virgil managed, voice hoarse, though his sobs had died out hours ago.
“Virgil. How are you feeling, love?” Janus asked, voice warm with relief and concern.
“better. I think.” He mumbled, fidgeting with his hoodie strings, dark eyes barely visible from the depths of his hood. “which isn’t really saying much, considering anything is probably better than where I was.”
“Any progress is progress, darling. It doesn’t have to be a huge revelation, to be important. Sometimes, you hear something so often it becomes a fact of life in your head, regardless of the truth of the matter. Sometimes you just need to hear the opposite enough times from enough people to start believing in your own worth again.” Janus said, leaning in the doorway. Virgil huffed, looking away.
“you’re all so much… smarter, than me. No wonder I stayed with Him. I’m so… just… stupid.”
“You’re not, love. You’re not the only one, who died because of an unhealthy, abusive, relationship. You’re not the only one who loved someone who wasn’t good for you. If I seem smarter, it’s only because I’ve had longer to comes to terms with it. I’ve had the others, to help break down all of what was taught to me. There’s nothing stupid about it, Virgil. People like that… they know what they’re doing, when they manipulate you, and they’re damn good at it. It isn’t your fault, darling, and you aren’t stupid for it. You’re just… human.” Janus smiled wryly, and something about his words struck so close to home that Virgil almost burst into tears again, barely containing them with a deep breath and hard swallow.
“Do you wanna go properly meet Roman and Logan?” Patton asked softly, and Virgil seemed to shrink in on himself more.
“He’d add Remus to the group of people you need to ‘properly meet’, but you’ve met him at about his best.” Janus added dryly, half smirking in victory as Virgil let out a small, shaky laugh.
“ok. If… if you’re sure they don’t h-hate me. For h-hurting them. Hurting you.”
“They don’t, honey.” Patton reassured, kissing the top of his head, before helping him to his feet, Virgil a little wobbly, though he waved away Patton’s concern.
…
Roman was pacing the living room once more, unable to cease his motion or risk flying apart at the seams. He knew, it wasn’t Virgil’s fault, but that darkness, that power… it scared him.
And now Patton was alone with him, alone with the being that had very nearly sapped him dry. He was so conflicted. On the one hand, he felt sorry for Virgil, he had watched him, after all, they had, seen how he struggled with depression and anxiety, and on top of that an abusive relationship. He knew Virgil didn’t mean any harm, was extremely strong to have pulled back from the brink.
But the protective side of him was screaming that Patton was in danger, they were all in danger, as long as Virgil stuck around. At least Janus had left, a few minutes ago, to check on them.
“Roman. Would you please cease?” Logan asked, looking up from his book, frowning slightly at the noise of his pacing.
“How can you be so calm about this?” He asked, rounding on Logan, who merely raised a brow.
“Virgil has agreed to let Patton, at least, help him manage his issues, and Janus has personal experience recovering from the kind of trauma Virgil has endured. I am confident that we will not have another issue. Why are you still panicking?” Logan’s tone made him want to scream, so frustratingly even, and he threw up his hands.
“Why wouldn’t I be? He nearly destroyed us, Logan, and he wasn’t even trying! We both know he’s prone to fits of panic! What if during one of them he snaps, and hurts all of us? What if he loses control? It wasn’t even fully formed, and it nearly-“
“Roman-“
“And he wasn’t even trying, Logan! What happens if he decides to use it? He has almost as much power as Remus, what if he decides he wants the place to himself, what if he decides he’s tired of us, what if he decides to hurt you, or Patton, or Janus? He could end us, Logan, and I refuse to let that happen. I won’t sit idly by and let him tear all of this apart. We have to… to do something! Something to make sure he can’t!”
“Roman.” Janus’s voice, sharp and cold as ice, and it cut him to his very core. His eyes widened and he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what he would find when he turned around. He desperately met Logan’s eyes, who shook his head, disapproval written across his face. Slowly, he turned, taking it in one at a time.
Janus, face cold and eerily impassive, eyes burning a hole through him, with how hard and sharp his gaze was. Patton, mouth open in a silent O, turning to Virgil, who was squeezing his hand as if his afterlife depended on it.
And Virgil. Virgil was shaking like a leaf, face pale and eyes wide, starting to fizzle into darkness at the edges of his being.
“Virgil I-“ He took a step forwards, eyes wide and pleading, trying to meet Virgil’s. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry- That’s not-“ Virgil shook his head, stumbling back a step for his one forwards, arms wrapping around his middle.
“it’s fine. It’s… I g-get it, I…”
“Virgil. Please. It is alright. He was just worried.” Virgil laughed at Logan’s words, a harsh, gasping thing, that shook his thin frame harder.
“Right. Worried. Ab-out me. H-hurting you. All of y-you. And you know what? He’s right! I c-can’t control myself, I p-anic, I-“
“Darling.” He looked up at Janus, who was reaching out a beseeching hand, asking him, begging him, with his eyes to take it.
The moment seemed suspended in time.
Logan was watching him carefully, calculating odds in his head, he could see it. Roman was struggling for words, trying to find something to say, stance defensive. Patton was looking closely at him, eyes echoing Janus’s sentiment, warm and soft and kind. Janus was almost desperate, almost… afraid.
He could see it. He could see it in each of their eyes. No matter what they said, no matter how much they wanted to help him, wanted to trust him, each of them were afraid of him. Afraid of what he could do. Afraid of what he would do. That’s the only reason Patton and Janus were reaching out, the only reason Roman had stepped between him and the wraith, the only reason Logan had gathered the others to come help, the only reason Remus had let them all in.
Fear.
He was all too acquainted with fear. And for the first time, he wondered, what exactly that fear would lead them to do to him, if he lost control once more. He had the suddenly sinking feeling that he knew, that Roman, at least, wouldn’t hesitate, and Logan wouldn’t be far behind. They would do what they had to, to keep their family safe, and if it destroyed him, then that was the cost. He found he couldn’t blame them. Not when Patton and Janus were so… good.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Then he was gone.
…
“No!” Janus cried out, lunging forwards, but he wasn’t fast enough, his hand closed on empty air, and he spun, punching the wall with a curse, head hanging low as he tried to fight back the upwelling of emotions, the desperate crushing defeat filling his chest. “dammit.” He whispered, spinning at a hand on his shoulder.
“Dammit, Roman! He was listening, he was understanding, he was letting us in, and who are you, who are you to make him more afraid of himself than he already was? You think he doesn’t know, what he’s capable of? You think he doesn’t know what’s at stake? And you… You!” He growled, stalking forwards, not sure what he was moving towards, perhaps punching Roman in the face, but Remus caught his arm before he got there, and he hissed at him, trying to pull out of his grip.
“Janny. Don’t. It won’t fix anything. It’s not what you want.” He nearly pulls away, snarling, surprised as he finds himself folding against Remus instead, angry tears slipping down his face.
“we had him. we were so close, we had him.” He whispered, voice hoarse and drawn, as he felt Remus hug him tight.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… God, I’m sorry.” Roman, voice cracking, looking helplessly between Patton and Logan, shame and self loathing welling in his chest.
“I know. I know, kiddo. I know you’re just worried about us, and I understand. But… but you have to give him a chance. We almost had a chance.” Patton whispers the last sentence, his own tears slipping down his face. He had a feeling Virgil wouldn’t be so easy to find this time, that he’d hide away well and truly.
But at least they’d gotten through to him. At least he was thinking on it, on his relationship being unhealthy, at least he’d gotten that far. He hoped it was enough.
…
Next
TW for past abuse, emotional manipulation
…
He slipped into awareness slowly. He was warm, comfortable, he felt… safe. The ever present haze of dread and fear and exhaustion was gone. He could hear voices, speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words. He realized he was hearing them through a door, and managed to crack open his eyes.
A room. Not his. A bed. Also not his. The blanket was a soft baby blue color, fluffy and warm. The walls were a light cream, the ceiling painted with clouds that seemed to move slowly across it, and the whole space gave off an aura of soothing calm. He sat up, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders, wondering if he should get up, when the door opened.
He flinched at the noise, curling in on himself, tense as he heard footsteps across the floor, recoiling slightly at a touch of his shoulders.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, feeling himself shaking. “I t-told you to stay a-away. I’m sorry I-“
“Shhh. It’s okay, baby.”
“It’s not! It’s not. I j-just want it to end, why can’t it just end? Why…” he trailed off, feeling Patton shift closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, which he let stay, leaning slightly into it.
“Because some part of you wants to keep going. Some part of you wants to believe in yourself. I’m so proud of you, kiddo. I know it was hard, to stop that darkness. But you did, and I’m so proud.”
“What was that? Th-that th-thing? It w-was me, w-wasn’t it? I’m J-just a m-monster.”
“No. Honey, no, you aren’t a monster. The people who made that darkness, who fed it, who nurtured it until you believed every word it said, they are the monsters. Not you. Everyone’s ok. Everyone’s alright. We just… we need to work on some things, so that doesn’t happen again.”
“what would have happened? If I h-had let it, what would it have done?” Patton hesitated, and Virgil looked up at him, dark eyes burning with something almost akin to pain. “please. I need to know. I… need to understand, I don’t know anything about this, b-being this, and I c-can’t…”
“Ok. Logan might be better at explaining this, but I’ll try. So, there are different types of spirits. We’re ghosts. We’re human souls that, for some reason or another, haven’t moved on. We’re sentient and, with effort, can influence the physical world. Remus is a poltergeist. He’s not human, never has been. He’s a result of wild energies all swirling together, a manifestation of the universe’s chaos come to life. He can influence things in the physical world more easily, and isn’t bound to this location. He can go wherever he likes. There are also ghosts that appear on a schedule, same routine every time they appear. A woman walking down the stairs, vanishing around a corner at the stroke of ten, that kind of thing. Those are memories, impressions made on a space by some kind of high impact event. They aren’t sentient or aware, it’s just like watching a home video, a snapshot of a different time. Then… then there are corrupted souls.” Virgil was uncurling slightly, looking at him curiously now, listening intently.
“Corrupted souls?”
“Darkness takes over. They lose who they are. All they know is that they’re hurt and angry and someone needs to pay for it. It doesn’t matter who. They can drain the energy of other ghosts, effectively erasing their existences, they grow uncontrollably, destroying everything in their paths, until they burn themselves out. Usually, it takes years, decades, even, for a spirit to become so lost, to give themselves over to that darkness completely. And usually only then when they don’t have any other spirits around to keep them company. It’s when they start going mad from being alone for so long. But you… we were seconds away from losing you to it, kiddo. That’s what has us scared. That you already had so much of that darkness instilled in you.” Virgil shuddered, pulling away, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself
“I was doing that, to you. T-to all of you. Wasn’t I? Draining you all. I almost… I could’ve…” panic climbed his throat, choking him once more, and he could barely hold himself together.
“But you didn’t. That’s what matters, kiddo. You didn’t let it. Coming back from that, stopping that, is incredibly hard, but you did. You did, and that’s all that matters.” Virgil shook his head, shoving back his hair.
“what if it happens again? What… what if I can’t stop it?” He whispered.
“that’s not gonna happen. But you have to let us in, Virgil. You have to let us help, and be there for you, ok? That’s all I want. Is to be able to be there for you.” Patton held his nonexistent breath, pleading, praying, begging for Virgil to say yes, to let him help, because otherwise…
Otherwise they would lose him. Sooner or later, they would lose him.
“please?” he asked again, quietly, watching as Virgil slowly nodded.
“ok.” Then Virgil folded against him with a soft wail, and Patton embraced him, rocking him softly until he cried himself out, falling back asleep.
…
He felt more… himself, when he woke up next. The panic and fear were gone, his chest loose and not tangled up in knots. He felt… almost relaxed. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt any kind of unstressed or untensed.
He realized part of that might be because he could feel someone massaging his scalp, a kind of gentle touch he hadn’t felt in years, the kind he could barely remember feeling at all. It made him want to fall back asleep, to stay here in this warm, soft, bliss.
“mmm… Patton?” He murmured sleepily, blinking his eyes open. Usually, this much touch would make him afraid, set him on edge, but it felt… safe, coming from Patton, who was curled around him like a mother cat with her kitten.
“Hey, kiddo. Feeling better?” Patton asked, not stopping his gentle scritching.
“yeah. I… I think so.” He mumbled, moving to sit up, pulling away from Patton a bit, pulling his knees to his chest, biting his lip.
“That’s good. I want to talk to you, about something. But I don’t want you to get upset, and run away again.” Virgil tensed, but didn’t move, shaking as he pushed back his hair. “Virgil. It’s nothing bad, nothing to do with you. It’s… you remember, what I said that made you run, when Janus found you?” He asked softly, Virgil wincing, curling a bit tighter.
“yeah.” He mumbled, not offering more, refusing to look up at Patton.
“Did you ever tell Him no?” That was not the question he was expecting, and he chewed on his lip. He didn’t know where Patton was taking this, just thinking about Him made him shake, but he somehow knew this was important.
“no. I never… I never could. He did so much for me. I had to, I… I owed him!” Patton hummed, nodding, not disagreeing.
“Okay. Did he ever tell you no?” He furrowed his brows, thinking.
“Well… yeah. I always asked for too much. I didn’t contribute, so I didn’t get a say, and that was… was fine, I guess.”
“Did he ever tell you yes?” Patton continued, forcing him to answer without any room for obfuscation.
“no.” He whispered.
“Okay. Did he let you go out with friends? Did he let you go out alone?”
“N-no. But that was to protect me. I’m always afraid, of getting jumped or something. He always wanted to know where I was, that I was safe.”
“Would he get mad, if he didn’t know?”
“yeah.”
“Did you know where he was, all of the time? Were you allowed to ask what he was doing, who he was with, who he was seeing, where he was spending time, anything at all?” Virgil hesitated again, clearly thinking, and Patton was hoping, praying this nonconfrontational approach would help Virgil start to understand.
“no.”
“Would he get mad, if you asked?” Virgil looked up at him, for the first time since the start of this, eyes confused and dark, as he nodded.
“so. Can I summarize? You were not allowed to refuse him anything. You were not allowed to anywhere without him. You were not allowed to see anyone without him. you were not allowed to have friends. You were not allowed to do things for yourself.” Virgil nodded again, foccused on Patton. “He was allowed to say no, said no to anything you asked for, for yourself. He was allowed to go out, and tell you nothing of where he’d been, or who he’d been with. He was allowed all the freedoms you were denied, and would get angry if you questioned him. Because that was asking why. And if you started asking why, you would see how unbalanced the scales were tipped. He would start to lose control. So he cut you off from friends, took away your hobbies, forced you to be completely dependent on him, until you believed his reasoning as to why, so you would stop asking that of yourself. That was manipulation. That was abuse.
Virgil, someone who loved you would never, not even jokingly, tell you to kill yourself. Not when they knew you were in a fragile enough mental state that you might actually do it. Someone who loved you wouldn’t have stopped you from doing the things you love. They would have enjoyed watching you do them, been happy because you were happy. Someone who loved you would have never said no without a reason. Would have some give and take, wouldn’t get furious to the point it scared you, for simply asking where they’d been that day. A person who loved you wouldn’t make you a prisoner of your own home, wouldn’t prey on your fears, wouldn’t take your freedom and self esteem away to make his own ego larger.
I know you might not believe me, at first. I know you might not believe me, ever, but just… just think about it, ok? Think about everything he demanded of you, then think of everything he ever denied you, and weigh them against each other. You’ll find the scales completely unbalanced. That is abuse. Manipulating you into hurting yourself? That is abuse. Okay?” He asked softly, surprised as Virgil barreled into him, easily accepting his hug, swaying him back and forth gently.
“ok.” Was the oh so quiet reply, too quiet, but Virgil hadn’t run, hadn’t left, was still there in his arms, shaking silently, and he rested his head atop Virgil’s, gently shushing him, rubbing his back, relief coursing through him. Virgil was thinking it over, at least, was willing to do that much, willing to listen, and hopefully, soon, he’d be willing to talk, as well. But it was a start. A very, very good start.
…
“Well, that coulda gone better.” Remus gasped out, trying to hide his shaking hands behind his back.
“What in the name of the universe did you do, Remus?” Logan asked, clearly shaken. Remus shrugged, smile trembling, eyes tired.
“I pushed him. Wanted to see what would happen. What was going on behind those deep, dark balls of gelatin in his eyeholes. Didn’t expect… that.” He muttered, flushing slightly as Logan hesitantly reached out, resting a hand on his.
“are you ok?” Remus hesitated, taking a moment to catalogue himself. The fear was already fading out, it was more the images that still flickered behind his eyes.
“Think so. Just gave me quite a good… scare.” He said, lingering on the last word. It felt odd, on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had really truly scared him. Only Virgil, it seemed, could shake him to his core, and it was maddening that he couldn’t predict it.
“It hurt. He’s hurting. I… there was so much buildup. That kind of power doesn’t come out of nowhere, Lo. His negativity is spiraling. Growing. Someone needs to get through to him, or he’s going to be completely consumed by his own darkness. He’ll turn into a shade or a shadow person, he’ll be completely lost.” Logan’s eyes widened and his face paled.
“We need to speak to Patton and Roman immediately. We need to make a plan, we need to figure something out, we need-“
“Easy, teach. If you start panicking, everyone’ll start panicking, and that’ll make me lose what little self control I have, and no wants to be a part of that shit show.” A small smile slipped across Logan’s face as he rolled his eyes, getting to his feet before reaching a hand out to help pull Remus up. Instead, Remus took his hand, and pulled Logan back down, vanishing in a swirl of neon green and midnight blue, reappearing moments later in the living room.
“remus.” Logan said, scoldingly.
“What? It was faster, wasn’t it?” The poltergeist replied, idly bending his fingers so they laid flat against the back of his hands, before popping them back into their sockets. “Soldier boy, Daddio, JayJay, get your asses up here!” Remus yelled, and Logan rolled his eyes, sitting down in a chair, hands steepled as he thought.
“Remus, we’ve talked about the swearing.” Patton scolded, appearing on the couch, a slight frown on his face.
“Oh yes, because he always follows instructions so well.” Janus drawled, appearing a moment later, tugging at his gloves.
“It’s so much more fun to be surprising!” Remus exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet, face flickering for a moment to reveal bone and muscle, dark blood and viscera. Patton shuddered, saved by Roman appearing between them, raising an eyebrow. Remus backed off quickly, scowling.
“Is it? The last surprise you got was less than pleasant.” Logan chimed in, Remus’s scowl deepening as he stalked across the room, climbing up the wall like a spider, extra tentacles emerging from his back and latching onto the ceiling, forming a swinging seat beneath him as he kicked his legs.
“Please don’t stain anything with your ectoplasm, it’s an absolute nightmare to get rid of.” Janus said, watching him idly swing, noting the strange green aura starting to swirl around him.
“What surprise? What’s wrong?” Patton asked, easily picking up on the tension radiating off of Remus, the soft fear from Logan, who hesitated.
“It’s Virgil.” Logan said quietly.
“Did he come out? Did he talk to you?” Roman asked, gaze flicking between Logan and Remus.
“Yes… and no… “
…
It was dark. It was so, so dark. And cold. So cold it burned. He was curled in on himself, swirling and sparking, folding and crashing like waves against the shore, thunder through his soul, he was falling apart, shattering into pieces, the dark eroding him piece by piece.
“Worthless.
Stupid.
Idiot.
Why do you care? Why should you? Just give in. Just let us take control. Just let us help.” The shadows whispered, circling him like panthers, fangs bared and claws sharp, ready to tear him to shreds.
“N-no. Y-you’ll hurt th-em.” He whispered, voice shaking.
“you already have. We can’t possibly do worse than you. Think about it. You pushed them all out. You hurt Remus. You scared Logan. Patton and Janus think you’re pathetic, and Roman just wants you gone. You don’t want this either. Just let us take control. You never have to feel. Never again. Don’t you want that, sweetheart?” He flinched at the soft caress of his cheek, so possessive, that term of endearment, the one He always used.
“don’t-“ He hissed at the sharp slap of his cheek, the shadows coalescing into His form, His face, leering down at him with disgust and disappointment.
“You don’t tell me what to do, Sweetheart. You’re mine. If you weren’t so stupid, maybe we wouldn’t need to have this conversation again.”
“Not him. You’re not… not real…” He gasped, frozen in place with fear as He leaned in, gripping his chin.
“I’m as real as you make me, Virgil. I have as much power as you feed me. And right now? I’m realer than you.” He whispered in Virgil’s ear, who shuddered at the cold grip on his chin, forcing him to look up into those voids of eyes. “let. Me. In.” Well. He’d never been able to refuse, had he?
He was weak, always had been. He’d never been able to say no. He never had. Because He was right. Always, always, right, and if Virgil had just been better, been good, maybe He wouldn’t have needed to remind him so often of his shortcomings. Of how much a failure he really was. The fingers gripped his chin tighter.
“Say. Yes. This will all be over.” He could feel the tears rolling down his face, even as he knew he couldn’t fight this. Wouldn’t fight this. So he opened his mouth to say yes.
“Get away from him, you fiend!” Instantly, the shadow was ripped away from him, numb surprise sparking through him for just at moment at Roman, sword drawn, stance determined, facing down the now swirling, rippling, monster of darkness.
“You’re nothing, compared to me. You think you can stand against me?” The shadows growled, their voice a screaming, howling wind storm.
“You aren’t real. You’re his fears come to life. You’re the reason he died. You’re the one who’s worthless.” Logan, stepping beside him, voice scathing, and the shadows howled louder, though they shrank just a tad.
“Kiddo.” He blinked, Patton stepping in front of him, obscuring his view of the room. “Kiddo, can you hear me?” He nodded, eyes trying to look past Patton, trying to see further into the maelstrom that was becoming his room. He could hear them whispering in his ear, still, the chorus of useless, worthless, waste, echoing in his ears.
“No. Listen to me darling. Not that thing, over there, to me. You need to come with us. You need to get out of here.” Janus, running a hand down his arm, just barely touching him enough he could feel it. “You can’t let the dark win, Virgil. Not again. It already stole your life. Don’t let it take you entirely.”
“I c-can’t. I-“ His fear spiked, and he heard Roman’s sword spark, go flying, Logan yelp, be thrown backwards, then the monstrous shadows were hovering over him, clawed hands biting into his shoulders, too many toothed mouth gaping open in a twisted grin.
“Miiiine.” It hissed, and Virgil gasped, ice flooding through him, vision blurring and fuzzing, mind going hazy, freezing over. “He’s mine. He made me. He built me. He is mine.”
“-il. Ki… ease…” the words barely slipped through the cotton filling his ears, the numbness filling his head. He knew more words were being spoken, but he couldn’t hear them.
He looked up sharply at the short gasps of pain. The monster held Patton and Janus in writhing tentacles of shadow, their ethereal forms flickering and fading. Logan was slumped against one of the bedposts, looking dazed, another tentacle around his ankle, another was wrapped around Roman’s wrists, pinning him against the wall, though he still snarled, fighting the grip.
“Virgil! Stop this!” Roman called, catching his eye, and he shook his head.
“I can’t… I c-can’t! I-I-I-“ He stuttered, voice cracking, terror making the beast grow bigger.
“kiddo. You can. You’re so… brave, sweetheart. So brave.”
That’s what broke him.
Patton. Calling him sweetheart. So different, from His cold, cruel voice. So warm, and loving and kind, even now, even in pain and with him being the one causing it, Patton was calling him brave, calling him…
Calling him…
Sweetheart.
It was like all the air was sucked out of the room. Like the calm before the storm. Like the eye of the hurricane. Then Virgil screamed.
Loud, piercing, glass breaking, light bending, earth shattering, gut wrenching, scream.
And the shadows recoiled, the sound breaking it apart, hissing and wailing and fighting, but the scream pierced it to its core and with a final hissing scream to rival Virgil’s own, it dissipated into thin air.
And Virgil crashed to the ground.
Happy Monday everyone :)
Anyone interested in some Aaron and Adam banter? here’s a snippet from my current WIP that I’m writing alongside Lucky Man. It’s an AU of the movie Ghost.
And uh…Aaron’s the ghost *dodges the flying fruit*
And I included a little reference that I hope @softhusbandsand@robandaaronsoulmates will appreciate ;)
“You know this is mad right? like absolutely mental?” Adam asks as he adjusts his too-tight tie. He glances at his reflection in a shop window. “And I look like a right idiot!”
“You look like someone who has a lot of money,” Aaron replies. “And I’ll teach you what you need to know. You’ll learn fast,”
“You sure you know what you’re doing? Did you say you used to be a writer or something? what do you know about banking?” Adam demands. They’re across the street from the bank now, traffic whizzing by and people hurrying to and fro, heading to work or shopping. Even with all the noise going on, Aaron can hear that Adam is breathing faster. The bank itself is a large, multistoried imposing building with a guard standing near the door and posters up in the window advertising all kinds of banking jargon like portfolios and investments.
“Yeah, no worries. I’ve been with Robert for five years, can’t ever get him to shut up about banking. Ya wouldn’t think there’d be that much to say about it but you’d be very wrong,” Aaron answers.
*****
“This is so mad, so so mad,” Adam mutters under his breath as they walk into the bank and past the stern looking guard. He gives Adam a look up and down but doesn’t say anything.
“Shut up,” Aaron replies. “At least try to look like you know what you’re doing!”
“For the last time mate, I’m a labourer not a banking whizz,” Adam fires back out of the corner of his mouth. “Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty fucking uppity for a ghost?”
“You’re the one who looks like he’s talking to himself,” Aaron says with a shrug. He gives Adam a little nudge in the ribs. Not enough to be noticed by anyone around them, but enough to remind him to get his game face on. “See where it says new accounts? head over there,”
“What?” Adam whispers peevishly. “I’m not giving them my money! You never said anything about having to-”
Aaron gives him another dig in the ribs, harder this time. Adam flinches slightly but luckily no-one spots it.
“Just do what I say!”
“Can I help you sir?” The man sitting behind the accounts desk asks. He offers Adam one of those false customer service smiles.
“Tell him you’re here to fill out a signature card for a new account,” Aaron says.
“I’m here to fill out a signature card for a new account,” Adam parrots to the guy. He’s started to sweat a little. He tugs on the collar of his shirt.
“Certainly Sir,” The man answers. “If I could just take your account number?”
“926-31043” Aaron says immediately. He can’t help but smile when Adam repeats it back and the guy nods and types it into his computer. Joe Tate is going to get everything that’s coming to him.
“Name on the account please?” The bank worker asks.
“Ben Tucker,”
“Ben Tucker,” Adam parrots back to the worker. “What kind of wanky name is that?” He mutters to Aaron. The bank worker looks at him oddly. Adam flashes his best winning smile. The worker however, doesn’t appear to be convinced.
“Didn’t they get you to sign one when you first opened the account Mr…ah…Tucker?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Tell him that Joe Tate opened it for you by phone and then asked you to come in today,” Aaron replies.
“Oh, Joe Tate opened it for me,” Adam says with an airy wave of his hand. “He told me to stop by today to get it sorted,”
“Ah, no problem Mr Tucker, one moment please,” The guy stands up and walks over to another desk.
Adam gets another dig in the ribs.
“Could you be less sus?” Aaron demands.
“Ow! could you be less of a twat?” Adam says defensively, rubbing his side. “I don’t have to do any of this y’know! I was happy as Larry until you came along with your demands and your bloody ‘Call Me Maybe’! You do realise that listening to that chorus for nearly two hours is enough to drive anyone insane?”
“And you’ll get another two hours of it if you don’t stop acting dodgy!” Aaron warns. “Look mate, I appreciate everything you’re doing for me ok? He’s coming back. Just sign your name on the bottom of the card,”
“Here we are Mr Tucker,” The man says as he slides a card across the desk. Aaron watches as Adam takes the card and the proffered pen and then signs ‘Ben Tucker’ with a slightly shaking hand.
“Now tell him to put it in the third floor file because you have a transaction to make,” He’s surprised by exactly how much of these processes he remembers. Still, Robert’s always talked about his work in extreme detail. It used to bore Aaron to tears but now he’d give anything to be sitting on the sofa with his husband, beer in hand, while he’s told about the finer details of investment banking.
He hears Adam repeat the phrase and the worker’s generic reply as he disappears through a nearby door to file the card correctly. He frowns as Adam slips the pen into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“What?” Adam looks affronted. “It’s a decent pen!”
I have no excuse other then my brain ran with this. Hope ya’ll enjoy! Peace!
“Mar, you can’t go to the Manor! You know as well as I do that’s its haunted! You’ll die!” Jon exclaimed during their daily video call. He loved his best friend, he really did, but sometimes she drove him crazy.
“Jon, for the last time, the Manor is NOT haunted. It’s old and in disarray, but it’s not haunted.” Marinette explained, not bothering to look up from her packing. After being friends with the Kansas native for years, Marinette had grown use to his antics.
“Oh yeah, then how do you explain all those first hand sightings, huh? The feeling of being watched? That overbearing, fearful presence? The feeling of having a sword pressed against your neck or the gun to the head? Mar, that thing is a demon hole! Psychics wont go near the place out of fear!” Jon yelled, causing Marinette’s speaks to crack from the volume.
“Jon,” she groaned, already feeling a headache forming as she turned to face her friend, pinching the bridge of her nose in the process. “And how many of those eye witnesses admitted to being drunk or on drugs, or had medical records of being mentally unstable? Ninety percent of them were! Plus they never went inside. They all said they felt it outside the Manor and that scared them off. As for the psychics, they were probably hired by Wayne Enterprises as a publicity stunt and to keep people from snooping around the Manor for the alleged will. Besides, Lila’s paying me three times my usual fee for these pictures.”
“Since when do you believe anything that comes out of that diva’s mouth? You know she’s a liar.”
“Since she very loudly asked me to in front of the majority of the school, making sure everyone heard it.” Marinette shot back.
“… Why the heck would she do that?” Jon asked after a few seconds of silence.
“That’s what I asked. Apparently, her great-great grandmother was a ‘dear friend of the Wayne’s’ and that ‘Bruce Wayne was in love with her and was going to ask her to marry him before the Great Fire.’ And that she wanted to ‘see where her great-great grandmother would’ve lived’. She would do it herself ‘since a dear friend of hers is a famous photographer who taught her all he knows, but in her condition she couldn’t possibly go near the haunted mansion. ‘But since I live in Arkham I’m best suited for the job.’” Marinette said, mimicking the Italian in an attempt to loosen her concerned but well meaning friend.
“Seriously? Just because you happen to live in the Arkham district your more suited to go poking around in a demon’s layer then she is? The she-devil? And does she even know how much you charge?” Jon asked, angry on his friends behalf. Just because she lived in the worst part of the city didn’t mean that she should be comfortable in the Manor.
“One, the Manor is not haunted. Two, she has no clue what I charge.”
“Oh man, is she ever gonna be in for a surprise! You charge what, $200 a session?” Jon asked, laughing at the mental image of Lila finding out how much she was going to be spending on a lie.
“That’s just the initial fee. After that it’s fifty an hour. It’s going to be at the very least eight, and triple the price, I’m gonna be making around two grand on this. More if she wants prints.” Marinette said, closing her camera pack before throwing it over her shoulder. “Listen, I gotto go. The earlier I get there, the more time I have to find the best shots. Plus, I always wanted an excuse to go explore the Manor.” She added, not even trying to stifle the snort of laughter at the horrified look on her best friend’s face. Honestly, she loved the guy, but he was almost too easy to tease. “I’ll be safe, Sunshine. Don’t worry.”
“Easy for you say,” He grumbled. “Just promise me you’ll call when you get back or if anything happens.”
“Will do. Talk to you later!” Marinette said, ending the call.
Slipping her shoes on, Marinette climbed out her window, making her way down the fire escape. Getting to the Manor took a little longer than she would’ve liked, but with her leaving at 6:00 on a Saturday morning, the city was pretty quiet. Two hours of bus hopping and an hour walk later, she found herself standing outside the giant, iron gates of Wayne Manor. Marinette couldn’t help but spend a few minutes just staring at the building. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The shear size of the stone manor made the young half Chinese girl feel small. In the daylight, the Manor looked imposing and she could only image how it appeared at dusk or in the dark. She couldn’t deny it had a mysterious, dangerous aura to it, but it also felt … inviting in a way.
Setting down her pack, Marinette pulled out her camera, intent on getting a few good pictures of the outside. Taking a deep breath, Marinette slipped through the bars. As she made her way up the path towards the stairs, Marinette couldn’t hold back the excitement seeping into her. Just seeing the ancient ivy growing up the walls, clinging to the stones, the, grimy and miraculously still intact windows, and the full grown trees that surrounded the manor brought a smile to her face.
Stopping before the door, Marinette paused for a second to just breath. Pushing the ancient oak door open, she was met with the smell of stale air and dust. As she stepped inside, the breath she didn’t know she was holding, released in a soft gasp of wonder. The main hall, dusty as it was, appeared to be untouched. Layers upon layers of dust covered the place, coating the furniture, paintings, and knick-knacks that decorated the entrance. Marinette wasn’t sure how long she just stood in the entry way, but just seeing how intact everything was shocking her. The Manor had been empty since 1884, when the entire Wayne family perished in the Great Fire that wiped our over half of Gotham, including most of the high class. To Marinette, it felt like stepping back in time. And if the entry way looked like this, she couldn’t wait to see the rest of the Manor.
For the next eight hours, the Manor was filled with the sounds of the clinking of cameras and the soft voice of a girl as she walked the grounds. She had stopped in what she could only assume was the main study. The room itself wasn’t one that Lila would’ve wanted included, ‘too boring’ would be her words and ‘why did you waste time in there, I’m paying you good money’. Marinette wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the room drew her in. Walking in, Marinette notice the disarray of the place. Old, yellowed paper with faded, but still legible writing, were scattered about the room, over flowing from the chaotic stacks piled on the huge oaken desk. Picking up one of the papers, Marinette couldn’t help but admire the handwriting. The elegance of the lettering was something she had never seen aside from pictures in textbooks. The gently looping of the letters drew her in, making her want to learn it. Pulling out her personal film camera, she took a few shots of the room before something on the desk caught her attention. An old bronzed picture frame with a photo of a family.
Reaching to pick it up, Marinette pulled her hand back before she could touch it. Only when she had taken a few pictures, on both camera, did she pick it up. Gently wiping the glass, Marinette found herself looking at a picture of the Wayne family, but not one she had ever seen before. In the picture the public had of them, they were all serious, like all old photographs, but in this one, they were all smiling, though she absent mindedly noted that the youngest smile looked more like a smirk. They looked … happy as they stared at the camera.
A crashed followed by a muffled curse shattered the moment, the noise causing Marinette to freeze. There was someone else in the Manor, and her back was to the door. As soon as that information filtered through, everything she had heard about the Manor came to the forefront of her mind. As footsteps that resounded through the empty halls drew closer, every rumor, every legend, every horror story that surrounded the place paralyzed her as a shiver went down her spine. Someone was watching her, and she was going to die.
Sometimes Marinette really wished she listened to Jon.
Main Story
- Bruce’s parents were murdered on June 26th after attending a showing of the Mark of Zorro at The Monarch Theater in Gotham City. After hearing gunshots, the police were called and the bodies of Thomas and Martha Wayne were found shot to death in Parkrow, their eight-year-old son, Bruce, was never seen again.
- Control over the well-being of Wayne Manor fell to Alfred Pennyworth, whom stayed within the manor in the hopes that Bruce would return home one day (thinking that Bruce got scared and ran away from the crime scene and only got hurt and is in a hospital or clinic somewhere in the city)
- After five years of no word from Bruce Wayne, he was officially declared legally dead, but Alfred didn’t give up hope that one day he would come back
- After about 10 or so years, Alfred wakes up to sounds within the manor and gets up to investigate. He comes across a young boy and a dark shadow guarding him. For some reason, he isn’t afraid of the shadow, or even angry that they are trespassing in the Manor.
- Eventually they come to the understanding that Bruce isn’t able to move on yet and somehow explains that he needs to find his body, this becomes the main objective of both Dick and Alfred and eventually Jason when Bruce finds him bloody in Crime Alley
- Their exploration mission turns into crime fighting when they find themselves too often in the middle of gang fights and muggings while searching the slums of Gotham for any clues (this is around the time that Tim would come in and be taken into the family)
- Their crime fighting also attracts attention from the Justice League and they come to recruit the Bat and birds, Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin join the Justice League with Bruce unable to since his entity is tied to Gotham and he can’t leave. He is happy for the boys to have more than him though.
Batman/ Bruce Wayne Details
- Shadow Cryptid
- Unable to verbally communicate with humans (could maybe communicate with Boston Brand/Deadman, but Boston is scared of him)
- Communicates emotions by changing shape of form and size of eyes
- Always crying
- Doesn’t blink (you get used to it)
- Main goal is to find his remains so he can move on
Ghost!Rowan moodboard by @the-lastcall! Inspired by their Monsterhearts campaign. Spooky and evocative :) Does he even know he’s a ghost?….
AUบ้านผีสิง ตอนต่อ เย้
ความเดิมตอนที่แล้ว…
คัตจัง เด็กมหาลัยที่บังเอิญไปเช่าห้องในบ้านผีสิงแบบงงๆ
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It’s been a while, but I finally got a new chapter out! I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Summary: Wolffe tries to build his lightsaber, “tries” being the operative word. Rex tries to figure out how to deal with Anakin after their startling conversation a few days prior.
Work Summary: The 501st suffered a devastating blow on Umbara with the loss of Captain Rex at the hands of Pong Krell.
Rex doesn’t understand why he’s still around after having died, but he realizes that he might be able to use this to the advantage of all of his brothers.
Or: Rex is a ghost, and he’s just as confused about it as everyone else is.
I collabed with @dead-outside! I finished their sketch and they finished mine! Both pieces (and this au’s aesthetic) were inspired by Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion. Max’s outfit, the color schemes, all that jazz! This part is inspired by the portraits in the Haunted Mansion stretching room! Go check out Dead’s part, it’s inspo was Madame Leota’s seance room!
An au made with a bunch of friends! Max is a vampire trapped in a mansion that’s haunted by the ghosts of the Warners.
Yakko haunts various paintings, and they’ll change a little every time. Max will wait by the painting when sunset rolls around, bc the ghosts are only active at night. This time, he happens to find a globe amaranth flower waiting on the mantle, along with his hat, cane, and cloak. There’s one less blossom in the painting too. And Yakko is positioned to look right at the spot that Max likes to sit
