#angel ghost

[justadeadreaper]

Summoning a spirit and more...

TW: Animal death, Disembowelment/Gutting, Nearly being SA'ed, Murderer and subsequent death, Demon summoning gone wrong, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

When your friend had asked you if you wanted to try and summon a Demon you had not expected this. Well, kind of. You had heard of multiple ways to summon Demons from all the media you had consumed which mostly ranged from sacrificing a virgin or by creating a summoning cycle or by just contacting one through an ouija board. You had expected the latter to just be cooped up in the abandoned house that seemed to haunt your friend’s street as you had an ouija board and a few candles littering the floor.

But no.

Your friend had to go all out. And by all out you meant all out. It sent a shiver up your spine to the point you thought that this was not the first time they had done this unlike what they had claimed when they had brought up the idea to you. This all seemed too professional, too thought out. But, what did you really expect? You knew how seriously your friend took shit like this, how much research would be put into things they seemed to enjoy and this seemed to just be another case of that passion acting out in full force.

You stood before the asylum your friend had asked you to meet them at. You pulled out your phone to check if you had the right location and time.

Meet me at the Anneliese Sherman Hill Asylum. Check.

2:50AM don’t be late! Check.

You had actually come a few minutes early to make sure you were there on time for whatever your friend wanted to do, you wanted to be a good friend after all. On the other hand you thought over if this was a good idea. You were in the middle of a forest in front of a ruined and abandoned asylum that you knew junkies would visit to shoot up as it looked like a light breeze would be able to knock it down. What if this was all a prank and your friend had actually tricked you into coming here for no reason? What if they lured you here to see if you would actually come so the whole school could laugh at you?

You were by yourself, you did not want to go in alone because God knows who or what could be in there. You were an easy target after all, any lunatic could grab you and do unthinkable things. Your paranoia made you think of all the missing posters that covered your small towns of young adults like you who had gone missing to never be found or the headline on your local new station of bodies that had turned up dead and raped with their hearts missing. You shuddered. You had known some of those people who had been left as nothing but bodies for people to gawk at and say how you had met such a terrible fate. 

As your thoughts began to overwhelm you and plague you with all the horrid outcomes that could come out of you going through with this you heard a noise from above. It broke you out of your train of thoughts especially when you realised that it was your name.

“Y/N! Hello Earth to dumbass! Anyone there?!” Regan called out as half of their body hung out of a fifth story window.

“Regan? Dude what the fuck! Get your ass back inside before you fall out!” You shouted back up as you watched how they nonchalantly stayed where they were.

“Are you my mom or what?! I’m not gonna fall! I’m perfectly fine!” they called back down to you with an almost song-like tone to their voice.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass! Go back in and come down here so we can get on with this!” you responded as their joy seemed to put you more on edge than anything else.

“Yes mother! Anything you say mother!” Regan grumbled as they went back inside so they could descend down the stairs and come fetch you to go through with your plan.

Insane bitch. But were you not just as insane for going through with this? Who cares? At least they showed up.

It only took a few minutes before Regan opened the door with an obnoxious creak. They saw the sour look etched onto your face and could not help but pout back at you.

“What’s up with you? I thought you were a night owl.” Regan whined.

“An asylum?” you sighed.

“Yeah, so?” Regan answered with just as much sass as you.

“Really? It’s an asylum.” You responded as you pointed at the building behind them as if they were an idiot who did not realise where the two of you were.

“By God! I didn’t notice that earlier! How did I not realise?! I must be an idiot!” They turned around to face the building acting like they had never noticed it before as they dramatically put their hands to their face to make the most over the top shocked face they were able to muster that was still somehow riddled with their usual sarcasm.

“Very funny,” you near enough snarled, which only brought a smirk to be smothered all over their face.

“Oh I know,” Regan responded.

“But seriously? An asylum out of all places?” You asked as you tried to swallow down the fear that had started to build in the pit of your stomach while you began to walk up the stairs to meet Regan at the door.

“Of fucking course! You know that asylums are some of the most haunted places in the world! It’s why they’re always used in horror movies or those shitty YouTube videos about ghost hunting. And since they’re so connected to the afterlife it will only make it so much easier for a Demon to come through.” Regan nodded as they pushed open the door so both of you could come inside. The inside was not any better than the outside, it was far worse than you could have ever imagined. Regan had turned on the torch in their hands and began to point it around what once would have been a reception area which now looked to be a demolition site. Most of the ceiling had fallen down exposing the skeleton that once had stood proud as it kept the asylum up but now was drooping as if it could fall to pieces at any moment. The wall paper had been peeled off most of the walls to lay in piles on the floor as the walls now were coated in a constant dampness that built the perfect playground for black mould to spring to life. The two of you began to climb the stairs, having to dodge certain spots where the wood was too weak from rot or where the rot had already fully eaten through to create holes big enough for two adults to drop through into a black void.

“Yeah they’re so haunted because of all the shit that happened here. I’m just saying if I was brutally tortured and treated like a useless baby as staff act like I’m a fucking idiot all because I had a disability I would haunt the place I died. Would probably try and get my revenge on the staff,” you muttered after you had truly seen the state of what once would have been a thriving business even if it had a gruesome history.

It only took a few minutes of climbing the stairs like an obstacle course to reach the floor that Regan had set up for the two of you to summon the Demon. It was unnerving, the whole place was unnerving but this floor was different, extremely different. All the hairs on your arms to the back of your neck had stood up, your whole body was on edge as all your senses seemed to be heightened that you were able to sense everything. All the dampness you had felt when walking through the other floors seemed to have disappeared completely, replaced by an overwhelming staleness that seemed to burn your nose while your lungs felt as if they were tightening at the staleness that overwhelmed them like it was depriving them of oxygen.

The two of you continued your walk as you went deeper into the floor. The hallways were covered in graffiti ranging from phrases to names to dicks with the latter covering most of the walls as they were most likely made by the immature teens from the local highschools that had come here to ditch school and get high or had come to the asylum for fear tests to see if they were cool enough to be part of the group with whatever group had sent them in there. You had continued to walk until you reached another large door that Regan pulled open with a huff to reveal the room they had set up.

It must have originally been a social room that had been turned into a restraintment room when the asylum became overwhelmed with too many patients. Chairs, tables, medical beds, restraints, toys, anything you could think of had been piled into the room but it did not have the former glory it once had once had decades ago. All had slowly rotted away with time with the rest of this damned pace but that did not matter to you, neither did the shattered windows that leaked in some of the cool night air and moonlight as its glass decorated the floor. The only thing that mattered was how Regan had set up the room.

For you to see there were candles scattered all over the floor and on certain pieces of the furniture in either bundles of three or seven. Most were burnt around halfway down as the wax trickled to the ground, melting into the cracks of the floor as if they were filling them in. Set up on an old medical table was an altar that had a black cat tied to it as it was connected by a simple chalk line to a summoning circle that spanned over most of the floor as an ouija board laid directly in the middle of it all. It was all too much, you knew that if you were in a horror movie that you would be the first to be taken out by whatever entity had decided to go on a killing spree that day. This looked like it was directly out of a horror movie and you did not want to be part of it. You wanted to immediately turn around and run away but something was stopping you, like a dark force beyond your comprehension had taken control and forced you to stay there and continue like this was a normal everyday thing.

The two of you slowly walked over to the board and sat around it, one of you on each side. Slowly you both put your fingers on the planchette and began moving it to spell out both of your names. First Regan’s and then yours.

“Anyone here with us?” Regan asked.

Ding, ding, ding.

The old church bells rang out, far in the distance from the safety of the town to officially announce that it was finally 3AM, the witching hour. The pit in your stomach seemed to grow to the size of a blackhole as you prayed that nothing would happen as you had wished you had brought some holy water from the church. 

The planchette moved.

Yes.

“How many are there?” Regan asked another question as you preferred to stay silent. The planchette continued to move as it slid towards a number.

One.

“What are you?” you asked as you hoped it was just a tortured spirit.

The planchette rapidly moved from letter to letter to spell out the word you dreaded.

Demon. Regan only smiled as you let out a breath you had never realised that you had been holding.

“Do you want us to free you?” Regan asked.

The planchette moved once more.

Yes.

“What will you give us in return?” Regan questioned.

The planchette moved for one last time.

Anything you wish.

Regan then got up and walked over to the altar. They reached over somewhere and pulled out a knife that you had not noticed earlier.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you asked Regan as they lifted the knife above their head.

“It needs a blood sacrifice to come through,” Regan answered.

“That’s a living fucking cat you can’t fucking do that!” You shouted back as you got up to stop them.

But you stopped in your tracks once you saw the look on their face once they turned to face you. Eyes once warm and full of life were now filled with this cold uncaringness that froze you still as it chilled your spine. Regan was normally so nice and loving but this was something different. This was not the Regan you knew. For a brief moment you thought that they were the Demon instead of the thing they were trying to summon.

“Don’t worry, I got her from a local shelter. Poor thing was in a coma, so they were gonna put her down anyway. I’m just doing it so at least her life could be useful in one way,” Regan shrugged coldly which only sent another shiver down your spine.

Although you were not able to fully process their words before they drove the knife right through the innocent cat’s body again and again and again. Blood splattered onto them in a bloody fountain while some leaked out from beneath the cat and dripped down over the edge of the metal bed as it collected in a puddle before spreading out and hitting the chalk that made up the summoning circle. The blood by some supernatural force started to multiply and flood the chalk with the crimson liquid before it came to life with a sudden burst of flames that knocked you to the ground with a thud.

Your head hit the floor and everything seemed to blur as you let out a pathetic groan. Even with the blur you could see the flames as they spread around the room causing everything flammable to catch alight to be turned to ash by its gluttonous hunger. You had started to accept your fate of being engulfed by the flames as all your body felt like it was being weighed down by a thousand suns making it impossible to scream. That was until you heard that glass shattering scream followed by a maniac laughter that echoed around the room. You just had to look up, how could you not?

Your eyes strained to try and figure out the shape hunched over the altar as your whole body screamed out not too as you began to force yourself to sit up. It only took a few moments before you saw it.

It was a disgusting thing you had never seen the likes of before. A ghastly mass of muscles and eyes that shambled in its movements, the only thing keeping it together were the scales scattered over the exposed flesh that glistened in the flames by the mucus that coated the veins that pulsed alive with the demonic blood that spewed through them. It made you sick. Especially when you saw the seven long, obsidian claws that were driven right through your (now ex) friend’s chest, blood gurgling out of their mouth with bubbles as it spilt onto the floor.

That thing unrolled a tumorous tongue from its skewered maul that was made up of eyes upon eyes piled onto flesh, exposing the rows upon rows that covered the inside of the dog-like jaw. The thing pulled it upwards, licking up all the blood with a guttural groan as if such a thing gave it a sickening pleasure.

“Thank you for summoning me, finally don’t have to use an avatar to have my fun now,” it told you with a sadistic smile on its face, it did not need to even move its mouth for its words to come out, you could still hear its raspy voice anyway.

It turned its head back to your friend and used its claws to carve its way down your friend's chest before pulling back their skin to expose their wet inside to the smokey air. First it took their intestines out and wrapped it around their horns which spiralled upwards as if they had once been joined together to make a circle. Then it pulled out Regan’s heart and chucked it into its mouth and chewed on it for a few seconds before spitting it out in disgust.

“Ugh, disgusting... impure..." It growled before turning to you.

It turned its claws downwards and slowly let Regan drop off like they were a toy that had unsatisfied it as it let their body crumple with a thud. It slowly began to crawl to you as it spoke again with that haunting voice that seemed to fill your body.

“I’ll have fun with them later but how about I try a pretty thing like you out first?” it asked mockingly as if it was trying to toy with you in what should have been your last moments.

You tried to desperately crawl away but your body was too weak from the floor to move to save yourself from whatever it wanted. You wanted to scream and shout to try and get someone to notice you so they could save you from your gruesome fate that played out in front of you. But your voice seemed to have vanished, replaced by the burning in your lungs that was caused by the smoke that seemed to fill the room as the oxygen was quickly used up.

Admittedly you sometimes wanted to die when life became too much and the voices seemed to drown out any rational thought but you had never planned to die like this at the hands of that beast. You kept trying to squirm away until it pounced onto your back, pinning you to the floor with an excruciating weight that stopped all of your movements as the little breath you had left was knocked out of you. You wanted to kick yourself free and beat the shit out of this sick fuck but your body had decided otherwise. In all honesty you began to give up especially when you felt its drool and breath run over your neck as it thrusted against your thigh. Tears started to swell up in your eyes as you wanted them to stay put but stream down all at the same time as that sick fuck began to laugh.

Then nothing.

It seemed to stop laughing or moving or even moving. Its weight then fell on you with full force keeping you pinned more than you thought it could before. Then you began to feel wet. Wet all over. As if a warm liquid had been spilt all over you. Then suddenly all the weight seemed to be pulled away as you finally seemed to be able to breathe a true breath even if it was filled with smoke.

You could not understand why it had suddenly stopped. Maybe it thought about how atrocious it was acting? Impossible. So you decided to turn around even if instincts were telling you not to and instead run.

As soon as you turned around you wanted to scream at what you saw. Laying in front of you was a dead Demon laying in a pool of black blood that had soaked into your clothes and behind it, oh God what the fuck was behind it. It looked like a man but it was too tall as four wings sprouted from its back while horns sprouted from its head much like the Demon it had killed but these ones were joined together to create a circle that emitted a light. From beneath the robes, chains, and bones that obscured its body you could see some clearly defined muscles riddled with scars that would have made you slightly blush if you were not thinking about the long metal blade it was pointing towards you as murderous eyes hid behind a skull of a more humanoid demon.

You coward in fear thinking it would kill you like it had done in fear. You whimpered as you pulled your body into itself in a pathetic display and it seemed to... hesitate? You reopened your eyes to look at it as its eyes seemed to be filled by something but you could truly not tell what. It looked away as if thinking for a minute before turning back to you as it lowered his sword.

“C’mon..." it said in a gravelly voice that seemed British as you first heard it.

You did what it said as you felt like you had no other choice as it could clearly kill you. You slowly got up with wobbling legs as you walked over to it to take the bandage hand it had offered. As you took its hand a beam of light came through the roof and not a second later you felt yourself being pulled up with great strength. You screamed as you felt yourself being pulled tight against its chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around the creature as you could feel the toned abs beneath the robes causing a blush to lightly dust your cheeks.

Below you saw the asylum as it burnt away to cinders with the body of Rean, the poor cat, and the Demon inside. Then you turned to see the being that had saved you once more as it continued to fly upwards. That was when you realised what it was. An Angel.

People joked about how Angels actually looked terrifying and that was why they said ‘Do not be afraid.’ when they first saw humans. When looking at the one that held you tightly you understood perfectly as to why. But for now you felt safe as you realised that it was most likely taking you to Heaven.

This was probably not the ending you had thought of when you had agreed to summon a Demon but maybe being saved by this Angel was actually the best choice at the moment.

Taglist: @diejager @frogchiro

So, hi. Sorry, I have not posted in a few days as I have been busy with family. I still can not believe that this is my last post of 2023 since I still can not believe it is the end of the year as it does not feel like it. So yay to a breakdown over the passage of time. To be fair I am not fully happy with it so I may come back and edit it in the future. I just want to say a quick thank you for all the support as I honestly did not expect anyone to enjoy my writing, I hope all your New Year's resolutions come true. Hopefully, I can post more in the coming year as I am planning for more AUs and hopefully a full rewrite of COD MW with some extras. If you guys like this fanfic I will try to post more fanfics and maybe make this summoning fic a series of Ghost taking care of reader and hiding them in Heaven. Or I will try to post some mini-fics depending on what people want so if anyone has any ideas just put them in my askbox and I will try to write a fic on it, even smut. And I may post some headcanons of the characters. Also if you want to be tagged in anything just say as I am trying to organise everything so we can have smooth sailing in the future. But I hope you liked this as I have not wrote a fanfic in a good while. But Happy New Year's Eve and Happy New Year!!!!

[squeakcake]

i hope this is what actually happens

tw suicide

[sicksadstar]

hello! you're local autsitic ghost here! even ghosts stim!!

[scythidol]

🥀 dead angel inspired titles

(prn) who gained wings after death . the one with a cracked halo . the one lacking a physical body . (prn) who lost (prns) life yet gained wings of white . (prn) who exchanged (prns) life for a glowing halo . the angelic ghost . the heavenly yet frightening creature . (prns) divine yet off-setting aura

requested by : @autibf

[buglord-isaac]

Angel Ghost and Demon Soap, so good for each other <3

[justanotherstardrop]

2 ghosts in love

[darrellmore]

[acasperl]

don’t trust the angels…

[welcome-to-alice-in-helll]

[satoshy12]

Angel Bat Danny

Bruce had been floating through this green place already for a few hours. That tiny, white-haired, winged boy with a halo found him and brought him to a place to stay.

It was a pretty nice Greek place, and he saw many people. Even met Pandora, you would think Diana would have end up here.

++ It was not Bruce's Fault ! Really! BELIEVE HIM!!

Well, he adopted the Angel Boy Daniel, after a few hours of knowing him. Had the papers too done.

+ And after maybe 2 or 3 weeks in the Zone but real world just few days, he was back in the Watch Tower, seeing the Justice League. It looks like John was able to bring back his soul. + A few days later, an Angel Bat appeared in Gotham, saving the town by making all the Joker Gas gone with a beat of his wings and healing them with a 2 beat.

+ Phantom:" Papa!" Batman:" Oh! Come here. I did promise you Burgers."

Later. Dick:" You were dead for just 2 days! And you had time to adopt Angel!" Bruce: "Don't blame me."

++ For Public it's now The Holy City Gotham??

[ao3-shenanigans]

Oh my gosh this is actually so cool though!! I didn’t know this!!

Fourth person uses plural first pronouns for the narrator/titular character(s)

An example might be instead of:

‘I sit in the chair by the window’ Or ‘Jon sits in the chair by the window’

‘We sit in the chair by the window’

Here’s an excerpt from The Virgin Suicides by Jeffery Eugenides that uses 4th person:

“It didn’t matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn’t heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house, with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”

[justadeadreaper]

Powers were the hardest of all the Angels to get close to which made it all the more difficult to learn about them and furthermore understand them and the contradicting nature that controls their existence. When Powers were together in large groups on the battlefield or even when they were resting in their barracks in Heaven they seemed to be made up of a collective hivemind, all acting as if they were appendages of the same body tasked to do different things that when put together made complete sense to them but only them alone. But, when alone they seemed to be numb, almost nonexistent as they would stand there watching everything else, only moving or talking when it was deemed necessary or whenever there was a Demon around.

The only emotions that other Angels ever noticed in the Powers were normally either nothing at all or an unstoppable violent rage that would be more fit for someone like Satan to use. Although in secret, surrounded in the safety of the others of their kind or even just when they were alone with people they trust, Powers were seen to display two other emotions, grief and comadiary. If another Power they were close to had the unfortunate demise of dying at the hands of a Demon the Powers that were closest to it would build a shrine for their fallen at which they would mourn and cry at what they had lost. While on the other side of the spectrum, if they had a glorious battle where thousands upon thousands of Demons were killed they were known to privately celebrate with each other by having their own parties and telling jokes to one another as they enjoyed the taste of their friendships and victory.

It was rare for a Power to be by themselves even if it was a task given by the higher-up Angels, except for a rare few cases of Powers that voluntarily stayed alone as if they had been outcasted by the rest for doing something wrong which would not get them kicked out of Heaven but was looked down upon by the others.

If you would ask any Angel if they knew of a Power that voluntarily stayed by itself, most would answer no but if you met the rare few that had witnessed the aftermath of an encounter with him they would all give you the same name.

The Ghost.

No Angel knew his real name, it was believed he did not have one, the only name that he had was the nickname that had been given to him by the other Powers and by Demons. And that nickname was earned, well earned.

He was said to act like a ghost, hiding in the shadows as it stalked its prey like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce. A being that could be there for one second but as soon as you moved your head to look somewhere else even if it was for less than half a second, when you turned your head back to see him once more he would be gone. Although you could always tell when he was around as the room was completely cold, devoid of any noise as a shiver would rattle through your spine to put every hair on edge. Each sense would be on edge to see if they could catch any sign of him but all of those attempts would be futile as time seemed to stop around him, and he was silent to the point that everyone who had encountered him thought he was mute as no noise would ever be produced by him. Some Angels would joke that the name Wraith would be better suited for him as he was as violent as one, known to rip the heads off of Demons he fought with his own bare hands if he was not bothered enough to use a weapon, if he was command to wipe an area of all the Demons or other enemies that resided there by the time he was done there would be none left.

It would be agreed upon by anyone that heard about him that he was strange even for a Power. Alone and silent. What made it far worse would be the fact that no other Powers seemed to know where he came from. He was an anomaly. No star could be matched to him, it was speculated that he would have come from a star that either surrounded Venus or Mars like most other Powers but no hatched star had an undocumented Angel. Each star hatched around the areas was matched to a Power in their documents, dead or alive or even fallen. Some Powers had taken it upon themselves to go through every Power that had ever emerged to see if any that were believed to be dead or missing would be able to match to him but they found none that even came close. While cockier Powers that were higher in rankings from the amount of Demons that had been slayed by the swords had gone to challenge him to a fight. Those fights had only forced him into a deeper isolation as the Powers all stood defeated with egos so bruised that they would be mistaken to be the lowest and weakest of the Powers with how their confidence was shattered into pieces that would amount the number of the stars, and as anyone would know if you were to bruise the ego of people who believed themselves to be better you would suffer at their hands as they would try anything to gain back the power they thought to have lost through the humiliation. They convinced any Power that would listen to ostracise him from the rest as he was violent and did not care about hurting others of his own, hypocritical as they had been the ones to go for a fight but they did not tell anyone that they had asked for the fight as it only made it all the more easier to paint him as different, to secure their goal made purely from spite. It was painted that he would have not cared about being ostracised and outcasted as he had started it himself. Most tended not to care as he was just a mystery that would distract from their role. No name, no backstory. If he wanted to be outcasted then they would only follow by the example he set. Why would they bother to care when he did his job like the rest, not to forget how effectively he would do the job as he had already accumulated a large number of vanquished Demons.

By all definitions, he was a nobody. A Power that seemed to have randomly appeared one day to kill all Demons with no desire to interact with anyone. No story or life to be focused on. No connection to other Powers as for some reason no other Power was able to mentally attach to him with their hivemind-like link as all that tried seemed to be overwhelmed with a headache that was as agonosing as being stabbed with the unholiest of weapons as all they seemed to see was blood stained claws or nothing inside his mind.

It even got to the point that it was debated over what he looked like as those who did see him never lived to tell the tale but there were rumours of there apparently being two as the Angels that had been luckily, or well unlucky, enough to have seen him had described his armour in the same way but the rare few details they gave of his body would look either one of two ways even if it was just about his hair colour or his height.

The Ghost did not wear the normal armour like the other powers did instead of it being made of the holy light and shell of stars his was instead made of the bones of Demons and the Netherstone that formed on the borders of Hell at which the Angels and Demons would fight at. He wore the skull of a Demon over his face instead of a helmet as the small cracks in the skull allowed people to see small glimpses of his face if they dared to get close enough. Then covering his body was a unique set of armour that was unlike the armour of the other Powers that tended to be styled in the fashion of gladiator or mediaeval armour that was usually decorated with carvings of long forgotten battles, runes of lost tongues, or the sweetest of flowers. Over his head, obscuring his mask to a degree was a loose black hood that connected to the loose black fabric that was fashioned around his body; the fabric had been fashioned into a sleeveless and buttonless trench coat with the hole for his left arm dropping just below the elbow as the long fabric dragged behind him before it pulled up at a point as the right side was not worn normally but instead draped over his shoulder to cover his right pec before crossing over to hide his left ribs before it tied off by Netherstone chains to keep it secure in place as the fabric that was left continued to drape down his side. The “trousers” he wore was actually just a simple piece of loose fabric similar to a long shirt that gave his legs and other parts the perfect amount of freedom he needed when fighting. It hung to his body by Netherstone chains that were thrown over his left shoulder as it was draped in such a fashion that it exposed some of his thigh and his hips but kept what was in the middle a secret. A full rib cage and spinal cord lay on top of the fabric as it was decorated with cracks filled with Netherstone as the ornaments on his shoulders were made from several shoulder blades  that fanned out to take the appearance  of wings as they were connected to the collarbone he also wore. And from out of the fabric that draped from his right shoulder was a singular piece of armour that was fashioned to look like the armour of other Powers even if it was made from Netherstone, it covered his right arm as it itself was covered in splinters of bone leaving only fragments of the metal exposed. Both of his hands and his left arm had been covered in bandages but the claws that ended his hands were still visible as to inflict damage onto his enemies. Nearly all the fabric was riddled with cuts and holes from the numerous years of fighting they had withstood as more chains were draped around his body.

Most would agree that with his armour on he closely resembled a Fallen Angel or an Angel of Death or even the mostly extinct Watchers, due to most falling a long ago, as his attire bore a resemblance to all three but it was easy to tell that he was a Power as out of his head sprouted horns that fused together at the top to create a halo that was fused into the body as it casted out a blinding light. But another staple of Powers that he had was a sword that could burst to life with a flame made of light that was specifically given to Powers to be able to kill Demons.

But under the armour was what you would expect from any Power but with some very noticeable differences. Most that had seen strands of his hair would debate on if it was a messy, greyed blonde or a dark brunette but next to his hair were two small wings instead of ears that seemed to be sewn on, but nevertheless the smaller wings matched the four much larger wings that were attached to his back, each feather was white but seemed to be greying as when the light hit them they seemed to reflect back the colour black. With one set of baby blue eyes and another set of eyes below it that were pure black and oozed out a black goo as if the eyes were crying while it seemed as if he was smiling even if his scarred lips were frowning as he had the scar of a Glasgow smile engraved into his cheeks. Covering his whole face seemed to be a faded imprint of a skull that had been decorated on by a mixture of coal and chalk; all was included like the fangs and other teeth to sockets formed around all four of his eyes. The imprint did not seem to be made by a professional and could only be seen if you were close enough to his face to feel his breath as most of the powder that had once been so bright had lost its vigour over the eyes as he never seemed to repaint over it. It was obvious he had the build of the Power as like most he was bulky as he could be, he was most definite larger than most as his chest was the size of two Powers put side by side but his height was debated on if he was as tall as the largest mountain ash tree or just a few feet shorter than it. His pale body was riddled with scars as covering his left hand, his left arm, both of his feet and calves, and most of the flesh above the left ribs was a moving black ooze that seemed imbedded into his skin, it was as if someone had pushed ink into his skin and let it spread out as it would do in water to make ornate patterns as it curled around his muscles and turned his nails to claws. A slightly spectral aura seemed to cling to his form as sometimes when the light hit his body he seemed see through as if he was merely a hallucination on the spot as it also seemed to make him seem as skeletal as his armour even with all his muscle to contest such an idea.

His appearance matched his personality. It was just as mysterious with odd additions of unknown origins that seemed to appear out of nowhere just as he did. It truly made him.

The Ghost.

Taglist: @frogchiro @diejager

[primaviva]

me explaining how donald trump is not only canon in the marvel universe but is also a main villain in comics:

no because not a lot of people know this and seeing how many people are finding the gwen trump and astv trump mughot photos crazy as hell, i want to be the first to tell you and introduce you to donald trump from earth 65 aka spider gwen dimension

you cannot make this up like this shit is straight up diabolical and the gwen comics only get more outta pocket than they alr are

and lemme show you bros description

yes ya eyes is not deceiving you that is in fact a real plot where captain america of earth 65 aka samantha wilson STOPPED DONALD TRUMP FROM ENSLAVING PEOPLE TO BUILD THE BORDER

imagine americas symbol having to pull up on a big ole trump head three sizes too big for comfort and he got the case of the yapps like this man don’t shut up no matter where he at and then got his wig handed go him

literally why does nobody talk about this like gwen’s comics single handedly has the most ludicrous things i have EVER seen so if somebody modakifys the trump mugshot i will give you like the ten nickels in my hand bag

he deserved to be an anomaly 🙄🙄

[isbergillustration]

Peer Pressure

[d3scendd]

what could've been if dew hadn't turned fire 😔

[bluegiragi]

mission start!

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