#umbreall academy fanfiction

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Someone - Ghost Ben Hargreeves x Ghost!Reader

Request: Ben hargreeves x reader who is also a ghost??? And klaus ships the hell out of em & Ghost ben x ghost reader with klaus third wheeling hehehehe i need more platonic klaus and reader stuffss

Warnings: mentions of drugs (well.. it’s Klaus) and death (uhm bc ghosts?)

Word count: 2 045

“TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR-!”

Klaus jumped up so quickly that he almost fell out of his bed. The bright sunlight that was shining into his room was blinding and hurt his eyes, mostly, but not only, due to the terrible hangover he was suffering from.

“What-“

He blinked and noticed two figures standing at the end of the bed. One was Klaus’s deceaced, adopted brother Ben, and the other was you, the also deceased neighbor, who the Hargreaves kids had been friends with for as long as they could think. Now both ghosts stood in Klaus’ room, staring down at him in worry. Klaus usually loved his sleep but today your obnoxiously loud and off-key singing had woken him up for good; saved him from the lost souls that chased him in his nightmares.

“You were screaming,” Ben explained, crouching down to his brother. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Klaus shook his head no and slowly untangled himself from his blanket, earning an unnerved screech from you.

“Seriously, you sleep in a shirt but without pants?”

You turned away, deciding that it was too early in the day to be faced with Klaus’ bare legs in all their pale beauty.

Ben just chuckled.

“You hang around all the time anyway,” Klaus answered, reaching for the hand Ben had offered him, but was only met with thin air, causing him to sigh and get up by himself. “I bet you peek when I take a bath!”

“Oh, he’s fine,” you answered Ben’s question that had originally been directed at Klaus. “If he can hit on a dead person this early in the morning, he’s fine.”

And with these words you left the room. Through the wall.

Ben watched as Klaus wandered over to the chair by his desk and grabbed a flower skirt which he put on.

“Oh man, seriously?”

“What? Flowers match my aesthetics!”

“I meant the stupid lines you throw at (y/n) all the time. You know they don’t like it! You’re just gonna chase them away eventually,” Ben complained.

“Oh, they know it’s just banter,” Klaus disagreed, “and you’re just jealous that you don’t have the courage to be so open.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and he almost would have jumped forward to cover Klaus’ mouth with his hands to make him be quiet, but it would not have made a difference anyway since he was not made of matter.

“Shh,” he hissed instead, “They might hear you!”

“Oh come on,” Klaus threw his hands in the air, “did you still not tell them you like them? I didn’t raise you to be such a coward!”

“Yeah, you didn’t raise me at all,” Ben spit back, “and it doesn’t have to do anything with cowardice, just so you know.”

“Oh really, then why didn’t you tell them yet?”

Ben sighed, not sure what to answer. He did like you, very much in fact. But you were friends, and if he confessed that he liked you… the usual problems anyone who had ever been in love with their friend. But with the little additional problem that both of you were dead. For all eternity. You would both be stuck together in this weird situation until the end of time.

In the meantime, oblivious to the conversation that was going on in Klaus’ room, you were wandering around the Hargreaves mansion. Sometimes it upset you that you had no possibility to talk to anyone, other times you had fun commenting on the inhabitants’ routines the same way a sports reporter would, but today you were content just strolling around the house.

Grace was sitting in the gallery, embroidering flowers onto a white piece of cloth. For a while you watched her precise movements, then you walked over to the edge of the balustrade and watched Diego practicing his knife throwing. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and was throwing his knives against the door while turning to change the angle as often as possible. With slight amusement you watched the cold metal blades boring themselves into the massive wood where they stayed stuck, vibrating from the impact.

After you had watched Diego for a while you walked downstairs into the kitchen, where you found Luther brooding over his oatmeal.

“Knock, knock, anyone home?”

You pretended to knock your knuckles against Luther’s head.

“Sorry, that wasn’t very nice,” you mumbled, and flopped down on the chair opposite him. “sooo, what’s going on inside that head of yours, hm?”

Since, unlike Klaus, Luther could neither see nor hear you, he did not respond or even move, he just kept staring at his half eaten breakfast.

“How do you do that, dealing with your feelings for Allison,” you wondered, still not receiving an answer, but not expecting one either, “everyone knows you guys have a thing for each other, and you are always around each other. How does that not totally destroy you?”

Luther sighed and picked up his spoon, twirling it between his fingers.

“I mean… do you feel remotely as lonely as I do? Every time I see Ben, or even think of him, I… I see what I could have, how perfect he is, how kind, how… broken. He never wanted his power, yet he was the one burdened with it, and it’s so hard for him. And I just want to help, but I also want so much more! I want to hug him, and kiss him, and tell him everything will be alright! I want to make sure he’ll always be safe and welcome with me, and… then I remember that he just does not feel the same affection for me as I feel for him… and it just sucks.”

Luther dipped the spoon into the oatmeal, and pulled it back out, but instead of eating it, he turned the spoon so the oatmeal dripped of the spoon and back into the bowl, making a strange, wet sound.

“Yeah, something like that.”

~*~

No matter how much you adored Klaus and the stupid jokes he was making, you could not always hang around him. It was not so much his character, or Ben’s constant presence that made things hard as much as it was what he poor bastard did to himself. You were pretty certain Klaus had tried out every single drug nature and mankind had ever developed, and he spent most of his waking time getting high on them. You just could not watch it. You and Ben were the only two ghosts who got through to him once he was all drugged up, and you had lost count on how many times you had tried to stop Klaus from taking whatever he was about to take, but to no avail. He never listened. And while Ben hung out with Klaus for whatever reason, you just could not. Klaus was not your responsibility, and he had made it pretty clear that he did not want your concern either. And so you tried to stay away from him most of the time he was not clear.

The sun already began to set over the city when you made your way up to the roof. You loved sitting out here, watching the last light fade in the distance and the stars creep out of their hiding. You missed the feeling of the sunbeams on your skin and the wind in your hair, but at least you still got to watch these perfectly rich colours on the horizon and on the roofs.

You wondered whether in ten, twenty, a hundred or even a thousand years you would still be able to enjoy these images as much as you enjoyed them now. Would you stop caring eventually, when everybody who had ever bound your soul to this world had died? Would you turn bitter and angry, like a poltergeist? You could not remember ever having met such a ghost. Most of the time the other dead people were just shadows of their former selves, and hardly any were as conscious and active as Ben and you. Would you lose this energy eventually? Would you too just turn into some dead shadow of your former self?

While you were still thinking about these topics, Ben had slowly approached you, and sat down next to you. Only then you noticed him.

Turning your gaze away from the skyline, you looked over at him. Ben’s eyes were closed and his head was dropped back into his neck as if he was trying to feel the wind and sun on his face. But you knew he could not. Some people might think it to be romantic to be a ghost, but really it just felt like you had been robbed of some of the best things in life, like the feeling of wind and sun and water, your favourite foods and long Sunday naps.

“How was your day,” you asked, looking back at the horizon.

“Ah, you know,” Ben shrugged, “the usual. Klaus being a dick, Klaus being annoying, Klaus sleeping, Klaus listening to music …” You laughed, and Ben could not help but feel a little proud for having made you laugh. “And yours?”

“Watched Grace, watched Diego, had a very one-sided conversation with Luther and some of the portraits in the gallery, and I am currently enjoying this wonderful sunset,” you summarized.

“What did you talk to Luther about,” Ben wondered, and for a moment you wondered if he was jealous. But of course he was not. Why should he be? Luther did not even know you existed in this afterlife.

“Allison, loneliness, as you said, the usual,” you answered.

“You’re lonely,” Ben wondered, and turned to look at you.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, “I mean… I can see my family every day, but I can’t change anything about how their lives have changed without me. I never thought my dad would be one to drink, but here we are! And my siblings are all grown up now, moving away, living… and I’m just here like… maybe I should attend college, just out of curiosity. Or go to some workshop for knitting, even if I can’t do it myself.” You hesitated for a moment, before continuing more quietly. “I just feel like I’m lacking sense. Like… something’s missing.”

“Or someone,” Ben added, more to himself, but when he looked up from where he had been staring at his hands, he saw you were looking at him.

“Someone,” you asked, not sure if you wanted an explanation.

He did not answer. He just stared at you. At the sunbeams that caught in your lashes and made them glow, but left no shadows on your cheeks, at the way your eyes skipped over his face, trying to read his expression, but failing. Over the years he had learned that the only thing that felt real in this strange state of being a ghost was the touch of another ghost, and it felt weird and foreign since it happened so rarely. Ben did not know why exactly, or whether there was any reason at all, when he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours. Maybe it was just to stop that look on your face that tried to hide disappointment. Maybe it was because he had wanted to do this since he had been a teenager. Much to his relief you did not pull away, instead you leant in, gently kissing him back and driving his heart crazy, especially when you decided to place your hand at the side of his face to pull him closer. Your skin was warm and soft and real, so different from the strange world of the living all around the two of you. Ben did not quite realise it until he had pulled away again, cheeks blushed and lips swollen, but something felt different. It was not just the ecstatic feeling of knowing you liked him just as much as he liked you, but something more. What had you said about this feeling of loneliness earlier? As if something, someone, was missing? Ben leant his forehead against you and felt your eyelashes flatter against his skin. That feeling of something missing was gone now. He had found the Someone he had been missing. You.

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