#ghost!ghost

[s3rrrpentine]

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ghost!ghost interferes

continuation here <3 🔞

[shroompette]

inspired by this

As you get done placing the last lit candle in its place, you step inside the chalk circle and sit down, crossing your legs. You breathe in the sweet scent emitted by the candles, making you feel a bit silly about your choice, but who said rituals couldn't smell nice?

You don't even know why you're doing this - is it your friends teasing you about your lack of action in the dating sphere, or the three glasses of wine and late night lamenting over how your toys just don't cut it anymore? Either way, being single for such a long time sucked, especially while all your friends either had boyfriends, husbands or at least fuck buddies. Since you had none of those things, you spent most evenings with your hand down your panties or doomscrolling, which is what brought you to this online community of "witches" that shared their recipes for potions, spells for anything and everything and their magical experiences that totally happened. You ended up going down the blog's rabbit hole just for shits and giggles until you came across a specific spell - a man manifestation spell. Written in all caps, bold and with (100% GUARANTEED FAST RESULTS) stated under it. You snort and scroll down to the comments to see dozens of comments from women, thanking the author and spinning the wildest tales about how the perfect men appeared in their lives as soon as they performed the ritual. The more you read, the more your smirk faded. Sure, most of the stories sounded fake and batshit, but some sounded rather believable... god, how desperate were you to be thinking about actually trying it out?

Another glass of wine and some digging around your home later, you're suddenly sitting among clumsily-drawn runes and candles, flipping through a notebook full of notes on what your ideal man should look and act like. Apparently, the description needed to be incredibly specific in order for the spell to be effective, and so you spent about an hour scribbling down details about every aspect of what you desired in a partner. You felt like a 13-year-old again, describing your dream boyfriend to your diary and tampering with light witchcraft, back when you believed burning a bay leaf would save your math grade.

You inhale deeply and start reading your notes out loud, praying your neighbours can't hear you reciting about what size of a dick you want your man to have. You try to visualize him; tall, muscular, pretty eyes, brooding, intelligent, good in bed... After what feels like hours of preaching to the universe about your requirements, you finish and wait, not even sure what for. You're wondering how long it'll take for this man to come into your life and sweep you off your feet when a strong wind blows and busts your windows open, putting out the candles and leaving you in a complete darkness. You shudder with cold and get up, closing the window and turn around to start cleaning up the mess when you freeze.

There's a man's silhouette in the corner, silent, unmoving. With your legs shaking like jello and heart hammering against your ribcage, you try to come up with a rational explanation; maybe you moved the coat hanger, or the lamp? Perhaps you're just tired and drunk and seeing things. But then he moves. Quick strides towards you have you backing into the bed and screaming bloody murder. As you land on the mattress, you instinctively grab a pillow and throw it at him - only for it to pass right through him. He pauses at that and so do you.

Now that he's closer, you can make out some of his features - sharp jaw, dark eyes, tousled blond hair and pale skin marred with scars. You stare at him with eyes still the size of saucers, but your heart is no longer trying to escape your body through your throat, so at least there's that. You swallow, unsure of if you should initiate communication. If he's a ghost, you should probably leave him alone, to go find the light or something, but you're almost as curious as you're terrified.

"Who...Who are you?" you ask softly, pressing your back against the wall, as if an additional inch of distance will protect you. He doesn't answer for a long time, nearly making you think he's mute, but then, he replies, voice gravely: "Simon."

You're embarrassed at how your cheeks flush at the sound of his voice, rough and worn, just right for dirty talking. A thought flashes through your mind and you reach for the notebook on the floor, flipping through it, eyes flickering from the pages to him. The more you read, the faster you realize how eerily identical this man is to what you were manifesting, at least physically. Well, except the scars, you didn't write about those, but you also didn't write you want him unscarred-

Oh fuck.

You look up at him again, focusing on the outline of him and seeing how blurry it is, nearly making him blend in with the night.

Apparently, you should have included this silly little detail in your writing that your perfect man should be ALIVE.

Slowly, as if in trance, you reach out to touch him. Your fingertips graze his, but you don't feel him, not in the way you'd feel another human. It's like touching feathers, almost intangible, but it's there. You close your eyes and sigh, burying your face in the pages and muttering curses, when you feel a cold touch on your cheek. You look up to see him gazing down at you, his eyes half-lidded and long blond lashes fluttering as he studies you, his thumb lightly brushing against your bottom lip. You don't move a muscle, still not having completely processed the fact that you somehow summoned a ghost, which meant that not only are you not getting laid anytime soon, but you've also trapped some poor spirit in your home.

His eyes slide from your face down to your cleavage, the low cut of your tank top not leaving much to the imagination. You hear a soft rumble somewhere from within the spirit, like the purr of a lynx. Your eyes involuntarily drop to his lower region and you swear you can see the massive bulge in his trousers twitch. You gulp and look back up to see him grinning, noticing the cleft in his lip that shows his sharp canine, glinting in the moonlight.

Perhaps you are getting laid after all...

masterlist

Buy me a cup of tea, please? 🍵♡︎

[gluttonybiscuits]

Ghost!Ghost x GN!reader

Heavily inspired by this TikTok page! I highly recommend checking them out, as Chad is probably the most convincing evidence we have of spirits and the afterlife 🖤

Notes: alcohol use, MCD(?) but only mentioned, SFW but MDNI, FLUFF, can be read as either platonic or romantic, not beta-read, word count ~900

Also sorry that it ends abruptly, I just wanted to get this out of my word doc 💀

“Okay okay,” you chuckle as you readjust your phone so the camera was positioned straight. The record button has been pressed and you open your mouth to make the intro, but was interrupted by the small flashlight flickering in amusement. That causes you to huff out another laugh before jokingly making a shushing sound.

“I've already started recording, so hush!” The flashlight obediently darkened and you cleared your throat to begin talking to the camera. You ran a TikTok account that focuses solely on capturing evidence of the paranormal that frequents your home. But it wasn't your typical “ghost hunters” that practically interrogated the spirits into reliving their tragic deaths. Instead, you film yourself taking various shots of alcohol with the most active spirit in your house named Simon.

Simon is an interesting fellow. He's told you that his death was pretty recent and isn't actually trapped in this world but chooses to come back to look over his friends. He was a Lieutenant in the British Special Forces (which absolutely blew your mind when you learned) and ironically had the callsign “Ghost”. You briefly asked why he frequents your home so much if his teammates were so far away, and he explains that your property is extremely close to where he died and he describes it as a sort of tether to his soul.

You teasingly call it his “spawn point” and Simon always finds a way to show his discontent of that name, making you giggle like a gremlin.

“Alright guys, we have Simon already here with us!” The flashlight turns on then off and you nod. “So we're just gonna hop right into this, starting with a question; Simon, how do you feel about switching things up a bit?”

You see the flashlight itself roll slightly, implying he was listening and intrigued. Pursing your lips at the camera, you folded your fingers together. “How do you feel about letting you pick which one you wanna take? Obviously the options will be strictly from the pantry.” The flashlight flickers to its lowest setting and stays there for maybe a second or two before fully switching on. Simon agrees.

You nod once. “Okay, so. We have… rum.” The flashlight turns off almost violently and you snort before covering your face with your hands, wheezing. It's an ugly thing and you had to compose yourself before lifting your head back up, not seeing the flashlight flicker quickly to simulate Simon's amusement.

You chuckle and nod your head. “Alright, ‘no’ to the rum. How about vodka?”

…

“Whiskey? I know you aren't supposed to down it, but-” you cut yourself off when you see he dimmed the flashlight. You squinted in confusion, not quite understanding. “Youuuu, wanna know what type of whiskey?”

Simon flickers the flashlight again, which didn't help. You thought for a moment before getting up to fetch your spirit box. It was just across the room so you sat back down less than a minute later. With the rectangular device in your hand, you braced your ears for the loud static that never failed to make you jump slightly.

“Alright Simon, I think this will help get your point across better. What were you trying to tell me before?” You raised your voice so it could be heard over the spirit box and looked at the camera as you wait.

“Bourbon,” Simon spoke through the static, and you nodded in appreciation. The first time you heard his voice transmit through the radio, you remember feeling like it reverberated throughout the room and gave you chills. He wasn't even loud, but his tone naturally commanded attention. Over time you got used to it but you have to suppress the shiver running through your body while recording.

“Your favorite, like a good ol’ boy,” you tease. The flashlight turned on then off and you cackle because you can basically sense Simon rolling his eyes in annoyance. Kentucky Bourbon is always stashed somewhere in your home, and sometimes you use a glass of it to communicate with him. You get up to grab the bottle from your cabinet, leaving the camera rolling. It took a minute for you to locate because it wasn't sitting where you last put it. You grunt and grab the neck of the bottle before making your way back to the table.

“Okay, we got the bourbon!” You held it up victoriously before opening the cap and pouring two shots in awaiting glasses. You then capped the bottle before placing it off to the side, but close enough so the camera can still see it.

“Uff, I am not looking forward to the burn in my throat,” you half-heartedly say as you slide Simon's glass his way. The flashlight illuminated your hand in gratitude and you smile at the cute gesture. For a man who claims to have been a commanding officer in his past life, he sure is adorable. “You're welcome, Simon. Cheers!”

You lift your own glass and gently tap Simon's with a soft *clink!* before letting the alcohol flow through your throat. Like the other times, it burned and you only let yourself cough after everything passed. Bourbon isn't meant to be taken like a shot, and you imagine Simon chuckling at your predicament. You feel his presence move somewhere behind you, but you're too busy coughing a lung to look over and see what he's doing.

Not like you could see him anyway. You make a face.

“God, I still don't know why I do this to myself.” You pick up the spirit box once more and turn it on so Simon could voice his thoughts. “Alright, Simon. What are you thinking about that?”

It took slightly longer for him to respond, most likely having to do with you feeling him move somewhere. “Lovely,” he rasped from the device. You smile at the camera before turning both the spirit box and the recording off.

[inkyinsects]

Ghost sketch from my GhostSoap fic ‘Deaths warm embrace’ :)

[ashes-writing-corner]

Hey guys so I'm back with this last part for Ghosts that We Knew! The story isn't over, I'm still gonna write for ghost!Ghost, just think of this as like...a season finale if that makes sense! I'll be back for "season 2" in December but I wanna take this month to work on my original story. That being said, this is kind of a long one! I hope you guys like it ^^

Taglist: @stargatenovus

Ghosts That We Knew

Part 8- Abandonment Issues

You were more than excited to hear the news: your deal had gone through for your new Cafe and bakery! The lease would be there for two years, and if your business was profitable, the place would become yours. The previous owner, now your lease holder, was a sweet older lady who had originally tried to use the place as a small tea shop, so everything you needed was mostly there. You sat Ellie down and told her the news, the little girl squeaking loudly with excitement. It was only a short distance away, about a ten minute drive from your place, so you didn't need to move, much to Ghost's relief. 

He was happy for you, he really was. But he was certain that he wouldn't be able to bear it if you left. Maybe it was his abandonment issues talking, but he always had a feeling you would leave. He couldn't blame you. The apartment wasn't the best admittedly, despite your best effort to make it a home. His death, he knew, left a heaviness around and he knew that wasn't good for Ellie. Or really you for that matter. 

Now that he knew the truth, he had been contemplating the best way to tell you. But how best to do it? You even said you didn't want to know about your donor, that the heart would feel even less like yours. But if you found out on your own, it would breed resentment. 

There was no "right" way to go about this. Only the lesser of two evils. A rock and a hard place. 

Wasn't the first time Simon was stuck in a situation like that, though he had hoped the last one would legit be the last one. 

He was selfish, he knew. He didn't want you and Ellie to leave. As far as he was concerned, you two were his family and he loved you both as best he could. But at the same time, he knew his presence in your life would only hold you back. He had thrown away his chance to live and he knew it was wrong to be so clingy to the living. 

But it was a fact. One day you and Ellie would leave, and most likely he would never see you two again. The thought filled him with dread. He wanted you to stay, but knew that just wasn't possible. The thought of you one day leaving broke something in him as he turned from the living room and back down the hall to his closet. It slammed shut, startling you and Ellie as the room grew cold. 

"Ghost?!" Ellie hopped off the sofa to the closet door and thief to open it, but it wouldn't budge, "Ghost?! What's wrong?!". 

You followed after your little girl, worried for him too. "Ghost? Hey, what's going on? Come talk to us" 

You pulled the communicator app back up, wondering what was going on. He hadn't done anything like that in months and it was concerning. He didn't want to talk, though. He wanted to be left alone, to get used to solitude again. It was best to start breaking hearts now rather than waiting for you two to break his anew. 

"Ghost…please. I can't fix this if I don't know what's wrong". 

"You can't fix this" he wanted to tell you, just like you had told him that night a few months ago, but he stayed quiet. 

"Ghost, are you mad at us?" Ellie asked, sad and worried. 

Horrid negative thoughts were going through his mind, the same ones from the night he died. He was useless, thinking that he could make the world a better place by himself. No one loved him, and anyone who did was dead because of him. Everyone would be better off without him, they just tolerated him because of the job. And now he felt like you two only tolerated him because you lived here. The hall was going icy cold as those thoughts pervaded his mind. 

Ellie wasn't about to stand for it. The little girl stepped to the closet door and put her hand on the knob. You moved to grab it. 

"Sweetie no, that's his space" you told her. 

"He needs us mama! We gotta go in there!". 

"Nöelle, listen to me. We do not overstep boundaries. Much less the boundaries of the dead when they've drawn a hard line. The closet is his space and we need to mind it"

"But mama-"

"Nöelle L/N! No more. You heard me. He will come to us in his own time. He'll be fine, I promise". 

Ellie looked saddened at that as she looked at the door. "I just want him to know that we're here for him…he thinks of us like family". 

Your tone softened at that. "He does now?". 

The little girl nodded. "We talk a lot". 

"I can imagine…" you responded thoughtfully, "we talked a little bit a few nights ago. I…I actually saw him, felt him". 

"You think Didi would've liked Ghost?" Ellie asked, cocking her head. 

Didi was the title Ellie had given to your late partner, and she hadn't talked about them in a long time. Although assigned male at birth, they didn't conform to gender norms and preferred to be referred to by they/them. When picking a parent title upon Ellie's adoption, they picked Didi because one they thought it was cure, and two it was probably the least confusing option. 

"I think Didi would've taken a while to like him, but I think they'd be good friends in the end" you finally answered.

"Maybe Didi sent him!" Ellie's face lit up at the idea, which made you smile. 

"It's…plausible" you shrugged a little. 

As negative as his feelings were in the moment, Ghost listened in. He definitely wasn't sent by anyone, but he didn't want to crush Ellie's belief in that. From what he understood, Didi had also been a soldier, unfortunately killed in the line of duty while trying to protect younger members of his unit. They had died honorably, a hero's death, very much unlike himself. 

"Fucking coward" his mind hissed at him viciously, "at least their death fucking meant something…while you made yourself brain dead in a tiny cramped closet…". 

He didn't want to think about it, but the mind was a terrible thing even in death…

Ghost didn't know how long he stayed in that closet, wallowing in his misery. It made him feel pathetic. He was supposed to be better than that, stronger than that. But ghosts were by nature miserable creatures, and unfortunately he was no exception. When he did finally emerge, he didn't know who to really go to first. You were in your room, making plans for your new bakery and Cafe. He didn't want to disrupt you. Ellie was in her room, playing with her stuffies and dressing them up for the night's events. 

It was that day again. 

Halloween. 

It explained why he felt his emotions more vividly today. It was the anniversary of his death. Now it was three years ago…

Damn time really did fly by when you were dead. 

He watched from a corner of Ellie's room as she sat her three favorite plushies (a bunny, a red panda, and a grizzly bear) at a play table and was giving them tea. It seemed he was interrupting a Halloween themed tea party. This could've been his life, he realized sadly. He could've been here playing with her, or at least helping you with preparations. 

Could've, Would've, and Should've…the three damn stooges of life (and death apparently…). 

He knew it was selfish, but he didn't want either of you to leave. He wanted this to be forever, to be permanent. You and Ellie were all he had now, all that reminded him of what it was like to be alive. You both made him feel something so sweet, a feeling that filled his chest and seemed to spread to every fiber of his being. It was warm, so warm, he realized, that for a moment he almost felt like he was indeed alive again. 

Was this love? Was this obsession? Maybe a combination of the two? He knew he didn't want it to go away. He didn't want either of you to leave him. Ghost just…didn't want to be alone anymore. 

"Ghost?" Ellie's voice pulled him away from his thoughts, "what's wrong?". 

Something inside of him softened at the question. Ellie was a complete sweetheart and he adored her. She had a huge heart for someone so small. 

"I'm alright, lovely. It's just…a rough day for me is all" he answered. 

"Why's that?" Ellie asked, pulling out a small chair for him at her table. 

Behind his mask, he smiled half amused. It was so tiny but he'd never turn down an offer to sit with the little girl's favorite friends. He sat down and she stayed close to him. 

"Halloweens a rough one for me. I…I did a really dumb thing that-"

"Did you die today?" She asked, still feeling sad for him. 

There was no point in hiding it. "Unfortunately…"

"What's it like?". 

"To die? Not something you need to know about yet. Not for a very, very long time". 

"Like when I'm thirty!"

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. Kids were funny even when they weren't trying to be. 

"Way longer than that lovey". 

Her eyes widened. "When I'm a hundred?!". 

That actually got him full on laughing. "That would be preferred actually".

A long full life is what she deserved. It's what they both deserved, really. Ellie looked at him, her eyes warm and sweet, but there was concern in them. 

"What's the matter, Ghost? Why were you sad earlier?" She asked.

"It's not something for you to worry yourself with sweetie" he tried to assure her, "my troubles are mine to deal with". 

"But Ghost…you're family" she told him, "and family's always there for each other". 

Ghost frowned but his eyes softened. "It's just…I don't wanna lose you and your mum. I care about you girls, a lot. More than I ever expected to. But at the same time…I know you guys can't stay forever". 

"Who says that?" Ellie asked. 

"It's complicated. You may be able to stay now but…eventually I know you both are gonna wanna leave. And when you do, I don't know if I'll be able to follow you. I mean, I might but it's gonna take a lot out of me". 

"We would never leave you" Ellie looked at him with utmost determination, "at least I wouldn't". 

"Thank you darling. I wouldn't even think of leaving you either" he wanted to keep himself from going into too much depth about his feelings. 

A lot of them were too heavy, too complicated for a little child to understand. He just didn't want to feel like he did in his last days: alone, and like he had no one. His loneliness was not her burden and he wouldn't dare burden her with it. 

"Oh! Mama helped me get a costume together! I'm gonna be a skeleton ghost like you!". 

Ghost blinked. Wait…she wanted to be him for Halloween? That was…interesting. He looked at Ellie intrigued. 

"I'll show you! I won't look as cool as you, but I wanted to do something like you-". 

"Honey?" Your voice called through the door, "Ellie? Is everything okay?". 

"Yeah mama…Ghost came out of the closet!". 

That got a chuckle out of him. Ellie turned to him.

"Something funny?" She asked as you came in. 

You yourself couldn't see him but felt he was definitely there. The chill was the best indicator. It wasn't a sad chill unlike earlier though, it was more of just how he was naturally. 

"Just a funny thought, dear" Ghost told Ellie as he stood when you came in. 

You looked at Ellie. "We'll need to get you ready soon. Is it alright if I borrow him for a bit?". 

Your little girl nodded. "He likes to talk to you mama. I don't mind. I think he was scared earlier". 

"Scared?". 

Ellie nodded. "He'll explain it if he's up for it". 

You raised a brow as you looked toward the empty seat. "I'll wait for you in my room". 

Ghost nodded, though he knew you couldn't see. Mostly out of respect, being rather disciplined even in death. You waited for him as Ellie busied herself for the night's candy hunt, setting up the app and placing the phone between the two of you. 

"So…Ellie says you're scared. Something scares you?" You asked, looking ahead, as Ghost stood at the end of your bed. 

He responded, the app only picking up: Don't. Leave. 

"I'm just taking Ellie out for-" it dawned on you, "wait you mean…don't leave here, as in don't leave you?". 

Yes. 

You frowned at that. "Ghost, we aren't gonna leave you. You're pretty much a part of our family at this point. Why would you think we'd just up and leave you?". 

Better. Home.

"Well yeah the apartment's a bit small, and eventually I would like to get my own place-". 

Don't. Leave. Me. 

"Ghost, can't you follow us? I've seen ghosts do that on TV all the time". 

Not. Strong. Enough. 

That didn't help things. "We have a few years, Ghost. We'll cross that bridge once we get there. But I want you to know that Ellie and I, I promise you, we will not abandon you. If you're able to come with us, if we do get a new home, there will always be space and room for you. I'll even make sure we get a spare room, to use for you most days. My sister or my mom might come over every so often so you'd have to take the haunting down a tad, but other than that, it'd be yours. I just want you to be happy and if we make you happy, then you're definitely free to come with us. I won't stop you. I don't want to". 

And you meant it. Ghost really was a part of your family, in a way. He made life interesting. He was kind, when he could be, and gentle when he had to be. Who knew a ghost could be such a positive thing? To an extent, you wondered if he was a guardian angel of sorts, perhaps even sent by your partner. It was a stretch but an interesting thought. 

As for Ghost, he sensed no lies on you. You meant every word and then some. He could trust you, despite something in him deep down telling him it wasn't smart. 

"Be careful who you trust, sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most" he remembered telling Soap all those years ago…

But just like Soap, he trusted you. You, just like him, had weaseled your ways into his heart, figuratively and literally. It seemed his defenses were easier to slip through than he realized…

Soap. 

"What?" That was the second time in the past month he mentioned soap. You looked at your phone puzzled. 

Johnny. 

You didn't know anyone named Johnny. You looked up at the supposed blank space where the apparition was. "Who is that?". 

Mac. Tavish. 

"Johnny and Mac Tavish?" You didn't get it. 

Soap. 

"Okay you aren't making any…wait" you blinked, putting the pieces together, "Johnny MacTavish? I don't know anyone with that name". 

You picked the phone up and made a note in it of the name. If time allowed, perhaps you could look it up? 

"Friend of yours?" You asked. 

Yes. 

At least yes or no questions could be easily answered. You gave a soft half smile. "I'll try to look him up later. Gonna help Ellie get ready for trick or treating. Wanna try and join us?". 

Try. 

And that was all you could ask of him. It's all anyone could really ask of anyone...

If you guys liked this please let me know! I love when you guys comment so please feel free to like, comment, and please reblog and tell me your thoughts! I'll be continuing this in December, but for now, I got an original story to work on ^.^ thank you so much :)

-Ash

[s3rrrpentine]

clingy ghost!Ghost #2

bonus but just roughly sketched:

next day

[s3rrrpentine]

clingy ghost!Ghost #1