ghostofaformerself

[ghostofaformerself]

INDEPENDENT AND PRIVATE MULTI-MUSE WITH A MIX OF CANON AND OC'S FROM VARIOUS FANDOMS INCLUDING MARVEL, DC, SHADOW AND BONE, HANNIBAL, CRIMINAL MINDS & MORE WRITTEN BY KILBY 30 + GMT TIMEZONE

[ghostofaformerself]

me + a transformers marathon = needing rayne to meet a transformer or several

[ghostofaformerself]

. ☽ 𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗟 ♁ 𝗗𝗘𝗙𝗬 ♁ 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗧 ☾

𝘖𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘹𝘺. 𝘋𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘣 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦…𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘣 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯.

. IND. PRI. HIGHLY SEL. OC Multimuse ft. Karter Kane, fandomless treasure hunter Written by Joey

[ghostofaformerself]

chill!! vibes!! only!!

Hello friends! I have @ghostofaformerself with me IRL so if I’ve been inactive that’s why! BUT today is a chill vibe days so memes & replies hopefully come today!

[ghostofaformerself]

@bldrdsh is gonna get his ass kicked tomorrow night. i'm coming to get you,. 😈

[ghostofaformerself]

THERE'S A SHAKE OF HER HEAD as her free hand rests against his still-healing shoulder from their last hunt. this is just the opposite side of what he did last time.

❝pots and kettles,❞ knowing it's all she has to say for him to understand her point. ❝it was a good plan and it worked, that's what matters. i came out better looking than you did last time.❞ a gentle poke at the same spot. there isn't a chance in hell she's letting him get that close to life-ending danger again.

DIFFERENT WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU sent by @poisonpicked

❛  i'm not scared of anything except losing you.  ❜ (Trevor before Rayne becomes a vampire because foreshadowing pain 😇)

THE FAINTEST HINT OF LIPS CURLING as her gaze falls on him with a softness especially reserved for their moments alone. ❝trev, i'm not going anywhere. we've both faced death an inordinate amount of times and we're still here. you're not losing me, trev, i promise.❞ hands are gentle against his cheeks, a thumb brushing over the skin.

[ghostofaformerself]

just a reminder that if we're mutuals you can add me on disco and we can chat/plot/write there because i'm easier to reach. colloquialbitchaphor

[ghostofaformerself]

OUTLAST: WHISTLEBLOWER sent by @poisonpicked

“ you’re scared. you’re not thinking straight. ” (Alucard after rescuing Rayne 🥰)

A HISS AS SHE PULLS AGAINST RESTRAINTS, teeth bared at the blond with disdain. he's her enemy right now if only for the fact that she has nowhere else to direct anger and confusion. rayne's head is foggy, uncertainty lingering where memories should be.

❝no shit i'm not thinking straight,❞ she's weak, starving, and exhausted. ❝the only fucking thing i remember is blood and carnage and death. you're asking me what happened to him and i don't fucking know.❞ rayne may as well be human right now with how the restraints cut into her skin every time she pulls too much. ❝i know he was there but i don't know if he's alive.❞

[ghostofaformerself]

DIFFERENT WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU sent by @poisonpicked

❛  i'm not scared of anything except losing you.  ❜ (Trevor before Rayne becomes a vampire because foreshadowing pain 😇)

THE FAINTEST HINT OF LIPS CURLING as her gaze falls on him with a softness especially reserved for their moments alone. ❝trev, i'm not going anywhere. we've both faced death an inordinate amount of times and we're still here. you're not losing me, trev, i promise.❞ hands are gentle against his cheeks, a thumb brushing over the skin.

[ghostofaformerself]

PRIVACY IS SOMETHING SHE CAN WAIT FOR. this isn't the kind of thing to hash out in the middle of a bar when they're supposed to be working. especially not if they put everything on the table as it now stands.

rayne's glass of whisky is long finished, and she's just waiting for trevor to be ready to tackle whatever it is they're doing to handle in private. she has her own things she wants to take care of with him, but there's really one that's the most immediate concern for her. the similarities between them know no bounds, and it's how rayne can see the guilt weighing his shoulders down. trevor blames himself for what happened to her. that's the first thing she wants to address.

there's an ache in her chest as she waits, lost somewhere in the confines of her own head. what is he thinking? not about this, but about her. if it's anything close to what rayne thinks of herself, then they're well and truly finished. she's a fucking monster now. the exact thing they've hunted for ages, and now she's one of them. he can't think anything else of her, she doesn't. dark eyes focus on her hands, nails tapping quietly against the glass she still holds onto. she's always reminded about what she is every time she so much as catches a glance at herself. the paleness of her skin, the subtle flecks of crimson buried in brown irises, the hint of sharpness to her canines. the worst of it are the things she can't ignore. like how trevor is barely a foot from her and all she can hear is his heart beating, his blood pumping.

❝i’m going to wait outside.❞ there's no room for argument. cash is left on the bar to cover her drinks and a tip, and she's gone.

THE LOOK TELLS HER ENOUGH, and rayne rolls her eyes. he knows what she means even if neither of them is entirely willing to voice it aloud. there's a lot they haven't said about the last time they crossed paths—what happened to her on their last hunt together, when her bloodlust put them on opposite sides. god there's so much to hash out, but they're both too stubborn to say anything.

it's hard. to have been apart for so long after knowing each other for ages, to know she's suddenly exactly what they've been hunting for ages. this partnership is against everything they stand for and they won't even address it.

❝we've been trying to relive how things used to be,❞ it has to be said. ❝back then we would be done by now. we'd be on to the next hunt, and whatever happened in between. right now we're just finding an excuse to make this last.❞

rayne doesn't want this to end. she wants things to be exactly how they were, but it can't happen. not like this. not when there's so much between them that has to be addressed after centuries of nothing.

❝nothing is the same anymore, trev. especially not us.❞ it's not meant to say she doesn't still feel him in her bones. they're tied together in a way rayne is never going to be able to fully understand, but they're different. after all that's happened, after centuries of life, they're not the same people.

[ghostofaformerself]

what are you the patron saint of?

patron saint of martyrs

the patron saint of those who died to be like you. maybe you died to be like them too: but at the end of it, you weren't like them. patron saint of tragedy. saint of saints. it's you who holds the hands of the holy dead, and you who has to answer: what do they do if they regretted it?

tagged by: @never0nce tagging: @othunderous, @clawsextended, @bldrdsh, @qceensofkings, but also just steal it

[ghostofaformerself]

THE LOOK TELLS HER ENOUGH, and rayne rolls her eyes. he knows what she means even if neither of them is entirely willing to voice it aloud. there's a lot they haven't said about the last time they crossed paths—what happened to her on their last hunt together, when her bloodlust put them on opposite sides. god there's so much to hash out, but they're both too stubborn to say anything.

it's hard. to have been apart for so long after knowing each other for ages, to know she's suddenly exactly what they've been hunting for ages. this partnership is against everything they stand for and they won't even address it.

❝we've been trying to relive how things used to be,❞ it has to be said. ❝back then we would be done by now. we'd be on to the next hunt, and whatever happened in between. right now we're just finding an excuse to make this last.❞

rayne doesn't want this to end. she wants things to be exactly how they were, but it can't happen. not like this. not when there's so much between them that has to be addressed after centuries of nothing.

❝nothing is the same anymore, trev. especially not us.❞ it's not meant to say she doesn't still feel him in her bones. they're tied together in a way rayne is never going to be able to fully understand, but they're different. after all that's happened, after centuries of life, they're not the same people.

@ghostofaformerself said: “we need to end this, and you know it too.” ( Trevor )

trevor glares at her over the rim of his glass as he takes a drink, using that as a moment to get his thoughts together. how long had it been since they last saw each other? nearly 200 years now? longer? time hardly mattered when you were immortal...

the last time he had seen her, she had been soaked in the blood of those innocent people, so blinded by bloodlust that she had nearly killed him and yet, he couldn't kill her. every time he tried, he would remember so many memories with her — hunting by her side, late night talks, patching each other's wounds, sharing warmth when the nights got too cold, waking up together naked in a mess of blankets, not wanting to leave whatever semi-safe place they had found to enjoy each other's company but forced to continue on with their job until she got attacked, dragged off into the night, presumed dead until... he had just incapacitated her and took her far away from that town, deep into the forest, and left her there, hoping they wouldn't cross paths again. he knew he should've killed her, but he couldn't and this was all he could do. maybe she would just die out here and he wouldn't have to see her again and could deal with everything that way. he hadn't seen her since so in a way, it had worked, as she didn't stir up anything that caught his attention and she was no longer absolutely feral. maybe it had been the right decision all along, despite how against his nature it had been.

"what the fuck do you think we've been trying to do for the last week?" he finally asks. they had been on the hunt together for the past week, both tracking down some monster killing in the town when they crossed paths. there was a lot of things left unsaid between them and maybe they were using the hunt to prolong that comfort of not addressing how they had left things off... they were only working together, right? nothing else.

[ghostofaformerself]

Bark bark bark bark

BARKBARK. bark bark bark

[ghostofaformerself]

Bark bark bark bark growl bark growl bark growlll bark bark bark

BARK BARK BARK BARK. GRRRRRRR. BARK BARK GROWL

[ghostofaformerself]

KATRINA'S POSTURE SHIFTS, and rayne knows their conversation is about to do the same thing. she's observed enough about the blonde over the last while to decipher enough of her mannerisms. there's an uncertainty about where this is going.

❝no trouble at all,❞ it's confirmed.

head tilts, lips pressing together a little more. when the mention of talking comes forth, rayne knows better than to think it's anything innocuous. katrina would phrase it much differently if that's the case. whatever this talking consists of is something serious and that's mildly worrisome.

❝sure. what about?❞

@ghostofaformerself / mobster katrina kane

She pauses, leaning back in her chair as Rayne takes a seat across from her. The pie freshly made is on a plate before her, one leg crossed over the other as she glances at the other woman.

"I trust no one else has given you any trouble since last we spoke?"

She hopes the answer is yes, but there's no guarantee. She is here to TELL THE TRUTH all the same. Rayne deserved to know the truth whether Katrina really wanted that or not.

"There's something we should probably talk about."

[ghostofaformerself]

LUNGS BURN, ACHING as they're deprived of oxygen longer than they should be. if she doesn't breathe, she won't be seen. it's a pause on the horrors she's about to relive—everything will be just fine as long as she doesn't breathe. oh, sweet girl, you're only delaying the inevitable.

a gasp. breathing resumes and so does the scene before her.

the knife is driven repeatedly into her father's torso, each groan and wheeze bringing a tremble to her hands as the grip on her knees tightens, nails digging into her skin despite the denim barrier.

❝it's too dark. i can't see him...❞ her voice is low, indicative of just how small she feels in this moment. rayne is eight-years-old again. ❝dad's not—he isn't moving anymore. he's just sitting there slumped over. he's not—❞ words are cut off sharply. she's caught, her gaze locking with her mother's and rayne knows she's in trouble. stiff, still, silent. then her mom immediately averts her eyes, pretending like she hasn't just caught rayne up well past her bedtime. ❝mom sees me. she sees me, and i see her, but she just...she pretends she doesn't?❞

lips part to say more, but it's cut off by a whimper. a flinch that says she's seen something jarring. the few stray tears that drip down her cheeks confirms it. ❝he just—she's—❞ the words are whimpered out and the inability to form the sentence says all that needs to be said, but rayne's posture changes quickly.

❝he sees me.❞

frozen. even now in the safety of the hotel room, in a chair in front of hotch. she's stiff. paralyzed. ❝i need to hide, but i can't move— i can't make myself move. i'm just watching him. he's cutting them free from the chairs and they just hit the floor and—❞ lips are in a tight line, not willing to even allow the faintest peep to leave her.

fingers aren't digging into knees anymore. now hands are balled into tight fists and nails are cutting into her palms.

❝he's studying me.❞ careful, quiet, her head tilting slightly to mimic what she's describing. ❝he's coming closer, at the bottom step now, and i'm just watching him. i can't make a sound, i want to pull away but even with him coming closer i don't move.❞

sweat beads, hands clammy. she has to look as ghostly as she feels at this point. god does rayne ever wish she'd pass out right now, but that would far too much of a reprieve from what she's about to recall.

Tough decisions have always been part of his job. It comes with the territory. Whether that be having the guts to rebut those higher up in the command chain, or being able to emotionally distance himself enough to be objective where subjectivity could so easily cloud judgement.

He should pull her out. The risk assessment runs frantically through his brain, a direct reaction to her physical attempts at steadying overwhelming emotion. Her breathing isn't right, the white on her knuckles too prominent. Anyone else and they'd be extracted by now. However, he knows Rayne, and she'll only ask him to put her in again, to get to the truth, no matter what it costs. She's his responsibility, but she is also one heck of a fighter.

As far as he can see, there are two options: continue on, one question at a time so he can gauge and moderate threat levels after each revelation, or stop the exercise completely, perhaps sparing her the pain in the moment, but subjecting her to the unending torment of knowing the answers are just a fraction out of reach. Hotch makes a choice.

"I need you to describe this man. Are there any distinctive features?"

[ghostofaformerself]

HEART POUNDING, FINGERS DIGGING INTO HER JEANS. it's all an indication of the feelings washing over her—confusion, fear, nausea. she's eight-years-old again, yet she's thirty-nine at the same time and it's forcing her back and forth between the emotions of her past, and the sudden realization of her present discovering that everything she's believed for the last thirty-one years is wrong. her whole life has been turned on its head without so much as a warning.

knuckles white, eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed. why is it all only coming back now? why has she never remembered any of this before? she knows. of course she knows. time and time again she's said it to victims. children and adults alike: when you experience something terrifying your brain has to keep you protected, it has to ensure you're able to continue living despite what you've experience. eight-years-old. eight and experiencing her parents' deaths, now coming to the realization that she didn't find them. she hasn't seen it yet, but her body knows and it's reacting to exactly what's coming. just because the mind doesn't remember doesn't mean the body ever forgets.

❝mom and dad. if they find me out of bed this late they're going to be angry.❞ the words come out quietly, barely audible as her head tilts like she's trying to decipher something else. ❝i can hear them, but...i don't know who else is there. there's another voice, a man, but i can't— i don't recognize him. he's here, he's in my house but i don't know who he is.❞

rayne isn't breathing anymore.

@ghostofaformerself ( cont'd from here )

Don't make it personal. It is drilled into them in training. Come in, do your job, and the second you clock out, every case, every worry, every problem, they stay at work. Or at least that's the theory. However, at the end of the day, they're only human. Most people witness around three to four major events in their life, but those who work for the emergency services see it unfold almost every day: the best of humanity and the worst. The badge doesn't make them bulletproof, nor does it provide immunity to emotion. Hotch knows this, and it's the mindset that spurs him on through the process with extra caution and care.

She's arrived at what may well be the most important stop of her journey. It's the quintessential moment of any cognitive interview. He's seen it play out so many times with no fixed future. From his standpoint, a triumph as the key is finally slotted into the lock and turned, but for the victim? There's no script for how these revelations go, nor for the impact that they will have once uncovered. Memories are a powerful tool, and in this context, one that needs to be continually risk assessed.

"You're hiding on the stairs," Hotch echoes, as if his repetition solidifies the words into reality. There's the smallest softening of his features as he speaks, and the sympathy bleeds through the factual air he so often adopts, washing in like a soft undercurrent; noticeable without being distracting. Always stern, yet also incredibly emotionally intelligent. It's what makes him so good at what he does. "You don't want them to see you. Who else is there, Rayne? Who are you hiding from?"