#ghost! au

[sirensea14]

Ghost Cuphead if one of his pranks backfired/didn't work:

Help, i just woke up (a few minutes earlier) and then made this, bruh.

Ghost Au by @midnightfire830

[moviekitty]

A video of my BT OC Naomi/The Star and if she was in @professionallydeadinside's Ghost! AU of Bullet Train!

Original Audio:

[midnightfire830]

Can Cup see Angelo in a ghost form?

I’ve already asked TAP about this. And she says that ONLY the sick can see him. So no, Cup sadly can’t see Angelo.

Which really baffled him when Angelo made himself known. He felt absolutely no presence, couldn’t see anything at all. Nothing. It kinda freaked him out.

Thanks for the ask!!!!

[wardwolf]

Chapter 1 of When the Dead Won’t Stay Buried is now up!

[ethertae]

With my last breath (kth)

(I do not know, for the life of me, how to make headers, kdlsls)

With my last breath — Kim Taehyung

⇢ word count: 1.4 k 

⇢ summary: Kim Taehyung is dead. He has haunted this apartment for as long as he can remember, and while others have come and gone, you have stayed - or, you help Taehyung find out how he died and why (but that would come later)

⇢ genre: angst, and angst again; drabble? ghost! taehyung (+ smut in the future IF I ever do decide to continue, it will also be ft. Jeon Jungkook)

⇢ warnings: none. Except that poor taetae is a miserable ghost :(

When the sun broke out, he would bleed into the shadows. And, the moment you came home from work, exhausted or sad, he would sit next to you on the couch and hold your hand. The contact was bare and cold, it had you shivering – but he paid no mind to it, and nor did you.

That night, you had cried yourself to sleep, and Taehyung sat at the edge of the bed, wondering what had made you so upset. Eyes out the window and strained to the moon, he sighed. You were always alone, no one ever visited. The part of him that held onto life, hoped he hadn’t been – memories were lucid, and so was his death.

Taehyung never knew how he died, couldn’t remember. All moments that led to his death had been erased, the sole remainder being his name and age. Occupants of the apartment, he could only guess had been the one he died in, came and left – each more miserable than the last. You, however, were different.

The day you moved in was memorable. Taehyung watched with curious eyes as you told your friend how you were going to decorate his home – bright colors and cute knickknacks were what you had decided on. You somehow brought life to the dead apartment, and along with your reassuring smile came light. But, as the years went on, the headache-inducing smile Taehyung had grown to love, slowly faded.

He wondered if it was the apartment, or him – he didn’t remember anyone apart from you who had ever been happy living in his home. It seemed that even your happiness was fleeting.

He worried at the contrast between your navy blue sheets and the white of your knuckles. The crumpled material that laid beneath your fingers soiled with your tears, and the soft plushie with your cries. He wished to take away your pain, to make everything a little more bearable. It hadn’t been the first time you came home in such a state, and the more it happened, the more he worried.

Taehyung reached out and lightly grazed his fingertips against your calf, a calming motion were you to feel it. If he were to make his presence known, many things could happen. He had never manifested himself to a living person, and the consequences that may lead to such an action were things he would rather not experience.

So, instead of scaring you with the knowledge of his presence, he wrote notes that he would leave on your desk. That night, when you had cried yourself to sleep for the eighth time, Taehyung decided it was time to ease you in. Written in beautiful cursive, he would word small sentences onto your memo-pad.

It took you two days to notice the first one, and Taehyung watched with eager eyes as you picked up the piece of paper. What he hadn’t expected was for you to shake your head and crumple his heartfelt note. Hurt, but driven, he only continued to leave more, sad when you would have the same reaction for each-one.

After the 10th note, you sighed and clutched it to your chest, with your stare directed at him, “Thank you.”

He stumbled back, mouth agape and brows knit in confusion. At his reaction, you smiled – “huh, I guess I really am going insane.”

A lump formed in his throat at your almost sour expression, “wait. Y-you can see me?”

You scoffed, ”why wouldn’t I be able to? I made you up.”

Taehyung was about to correct you, but you continued, “I tried denying the fact that I kept on seeing you, that maybe if I pretended you didn’t exist, you would somehow disappear.”

As you spoke, it seemed your gaze was directed into the void. With the moon so bright, and the blinds wide open, it lit your eyes in darkish hues. Taehyung was desperately lost, and he tried finding the answers to his question by simply looking at you. So, when he couldn’t, he sat beside you on the bed and directed his own stare to the sky.

“How long have you been able to see me?”

“One year.”

“What’s your name?”

“Kim Taehyung.”

“Hm,” you chuckled, “I’m kind of impressed with myself for making that up.”

At that, Taehyung frowned.

“Just so you know, I’m not a figment of your imagination, nor the result of some mental illness – I’m real. My name is Kim Taehyung, and I died at 23 years old. I don’t know how you see me, but you’re not crazy, and I’m sorry you thought you were for so long.”

A beat or two passed, before you answered.

“So, I’ve been living with a ghost?”

“Seems like it.”

“You won’t try to murder me in my sleep will you?”

“If I wanted to, it would’ve been done by now.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“I don’t think so – “

What followed was silence, one where you were finally able to relax, with the knowledge that maybe you weren’t insane. You had seen his face around the house, and at first, you were terrified. Taehyung would lay next to you at night, sometimes pet your hair – all of it seemed too real. But, as time went on, the idea that you had created an imaginary companion to aid your in loneliness, became more persistent.

As the two of you sat, facing the open window, Taehyung stole a glance at you. The tear that rolled down your cheek should have alarmed him, the way you studied the sky with such sad eyes would have been enough of an excuse to take you in his arms. However, things were different now, and all he could do was watch. He never knew when you had stopped being happy; time had become a foreign concept to him. But, Taehyung recalled the moments he would start to see you frown, more than you would smile. The moments where your friends no longer visited, and all you would do on Sundays is watch reruns of your favorite shows.

“How did you die?”

The sound of your voice startled him, especially with how uncharacteristically soft it was.

“I don’t know, can’t remember – “

You finally broke away from the empty night sky, “why is that?”

“Everything from my past life has been erased, can’t remember anything besides my name, and how old I was when I died.”

“That’s,” you paused, “terrible.”

“It’s fine, really. I think it’s better that way.”

“But, aren’t you a little curious?”

“Of course, I am. It bothered me for the longest time, to not know what happened, but what can I do?”

You nodded and gave him a reassuring pat on the thigh, to which he would’ve blushed had he been able to produce heat. It was strange to him, the fact that he could communicate with the living, and you with the dead. A lot of times, it seemed surreal – how he was still able to feel – the tender warmth you radiated, yet he could only imagine his touch was cold.

“By the way, thanks,” you spoke suddenly, and Taehyung found himself confused at your words.

“You always stay with me. Though I don’t think you have much of a choice, it’s nice to know I’m not completely alone.”

You had always amazed him, the way you would accept anything with open arms. Taehyung thought any person might have been out the door right now, but not you.

He sighed, the light shake of his fingertips was something that only you could induce, “I should be thanking you, death has been a little less boring with you around.”

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Taehyung saw you smile – it was small, but genuine. He wished it could make his heart skip a beat, like it would if he were alive. The muscle laid limply in his chest, and no longer pumped blood in his dark veins.

“Kim Taehyung,” you whispered to yourself – the name echoed in his dead ear.

 ↝ masterlist ↜

(A/N: this is a drabble, for now. It’s sort of the prologue to a fic I’m planning out for the near future, but for now, I don’t have the strength to be writing very long fics, tbh) I WROTE THIS SO LONG AGO AND I’M POSTING IT JUST FOR THE SAKE OF POSTING GUYS! DON’T EXPECT A SECOND PART ANYTIME SOON KELSKSO

[thejollyroger-writer]

The Afterlife Hotel

I was suddenly incredibly inspired the other day to work on my second story for this year's @cssns event, dropping July 31. It's obviously still a work in progress, but I feel pretty good about this part, and I'm so excited to share both of these stories that have taken up much more of my brain than they should be at this point!

Sixty years. Sixty years since her death. But it was dying that led her to find something really worth living for. And it was still just the "beginning."

Emma still remembers that first day, greeted by a smiling Mary Margaret Nolan. Smiling, as if there was something to be happy about. Emma knew that she had died, was very aware of it, given Neal left her to die a very slow and painful death — but the last thing she expected after the “bright white light” was the lobby of a hotel, especially one with a smiling brunette behind its counter.

“Hello!” Her voice was chipper, almost fake, but her smile most certainly was not. “Welcome to the Afterlife Hotel!”

“Really?” Emma remembers quipping immediately, not even trying to hide the look of disgust on her face. “You couldn’t even come up with a better name?”

But Mary Margaret was resilient, moving on without so much as acknowledging Emma’s comment, and when she asked Emma what she wanted to do — if she had any family she wanted to wait for, anywhere in particular she wanted to be — all Emma felt was empty. Sure, the emptiness tried to veil itself with snide remarks and humor, as it always had, but none of it got any further than her own mind.

“No.” Her voice was soft, choking back something she was too afraid to put into words. “No, I — I have no one.”

It was Mary Margaret’s job to lead her through the afterlife, to help her find where she will spend the rest of eternity. But, instead of a decision, Mary Margaret helped her find a “family” for the first time in her life (well, uh, death), people that actually cared for her. Mary Margaret and David Nolan, the first parental figures Emma has ever had, and all she had to do was die to find them.

[abbythegamergirl]

“ You look out for me, I look out for you.”

based off an chat with @psychosistr.

feel free to reblog

[plumpwhumpcreations]

READ HERE - CHAPTER 1

Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationship: Iida Tenya/Midoriya Izuku

Chapters: 1/?

Summary:

There was something off about Iida's new apartment. Things would rearrange themselves, things would knock over randomly, and odd streaks were left in the dust in the storage room. He was starting to think that there was something with him, but it went against all logic. Was he losing his mind?

As Iida wrestles with his own mind, a green-haired boy witnesses it all from the shadows. And that boy is Midoriya Izuku, one of the previous residents who died there decades ago.