#ghost!viktor

ghost! viktor x reader 1k words, no warnings. well, except for ghosts i guess. and a brief mention of dying. on account of the being a ghost thing. part one

you offer him tea.

what else were you supposed to do?

the water's still hot from your earlier batch, and, to be honest, you'd never met a ghost before. it seemed polite.

the storm keeps on drumming the roof and the lights stay off. at least your eyes had adjusted to the darkness. and there should be some candles in the mainenance closet.

you walk to the kitchen, and the ghost - viktor, he'd introduced himself - follows you. his feet don't really make a sound on the floor, which is strange only as you start to notice it. it sounds more like pressing down a pillow on the floorboards than anyone walking. it's like he's feather-light, more swimming through the air than anything.

"i think you've got a blown fuse." he says, casually, as he trails behind you. "from the lightning."

"probably," you agree, "yeah. however, i'm not thrilled about the idea of poking around in a fusebox after a lightning."

"it should be grounded."

you turn to look at him. "just checking," you ask, "what's your current theory for why i can see you right now?"

he blinks. "well," he says, licks his lips, "i...suppose i died, or a part of me did, when a high-powered experiment short-circuited and, well, in lack of a better word, blew up on my face. since i am still here, my running theory is that my energy was somehow imprinted on the stone structure of the building, like music on vinyl. and the lightning strike must have..." he waves a hand in the air, "superimposed my energy levels, so to speak, to visible light. visible to you, i mean."

"hmm." you nod, processing this. "no offence, but i'd like for my current energy levels to stay where they are. so i won't be poking around the fusebox. that's gonna be someone else's problem tomorrow."

you pull a mug for him out of the cupboard, "wait," you continue, turning to look at him, "what do you mean visible to me?"

he tilts his head a little. "you are a scientist, no?"

you tilt your head back at him. broadly speaking, yeah. working in a museum didn't really constitute as breaking research. "yeah?"

"so you know that humans can only see a tiny part of the spectrum of light." he answers, like that explains it. "cats, for example, can see a wider range."

ah.

well, that does explain it.

"cats have been able to see you for the last fifteen years?" you ask, then motion towards the cup you were holding, now steaming. "wait. experiment. can you hold this?"

he blinks. looks at you. looks at the cup. back at you.

"yes," he says, then, "as much as i can gather. and i'm not sure. put it down so it won't shatter if i...can't."

you nod slowly and place the mug down on the counter. take a small step back and watch as he takes a careful one closer.

"you can interact with your environment, right?"

"yes." he answers, "to an extent."

"can you eat?" you ask, leaning your hip to the counter, "i mean, if i give you tea and you are able to drink it, is it just gonna fall through to the floor? or does it turn into ghost energy?"

"not sure." he answers, standing next to the counter, eyes keen on the mug. "i would hope ghost energy," he says, then looks down at himself. "i'm solid to me. it would be disturbing if something was to just...fall through."

you hum in answer.

he exhales a small sigh and looks at the mug again. "one way to find out."

he reaches out a hand and wraps his fingers around it.

they go through it.

his shoulders drop a little bit. just a little bit, but enough for you to notice.

"interesting." he exhales, "i can feel the warmth." he says, "that's...new. i've only been able to sort of feel the...hum in electrical appliances. before."

"but you can't hold it?"

"I don't think so."

you feel a little bit disappointed. you didn't think you were going to feel disappointed about it, but you do.

"well," you tell him, "i'm going to bring it for you anyway. you can warm your fingers."

so you drink your tea. viktor mostly studies his, inspecting the porcelain mug, and his fingers as they go through it. occasionally he wraps his fingers around it, hovering in the air by the cup with careful balance, and his shoulders seem to relax a little.

it's a weird situation. you've never met a ghost before, nevertheless spoken with one. you're still not fully convinced that this is actually happening.

"foxes?" you ask, "can foxes see you?"

he looks at you for a moment. "i don't meet many foxes," he answers, "but...I would guess so, yes." he takes a breath, "i don't think they like ghosts."

"what do you mean?"

he smiles faintly. "i look like a human, to them, but i don't smell like one. or sound like one. i think it bothers them. it's easy for me to sneak up on things."

"hm." you sip your tea, think it through. "what about little kids?"

"what about little kids?" he repeats.

"can they see you? you know, like in all the stories."

he hmms in answer. "sometimes, yes."

"...and now me."

Note: soo this is the ghost!viktor fic i was writing around halloween, because who doesn't love a little spooky story? anyway, i just wanted to post this in a bit more readable form instead of just a reblog chain. so here ya go :) words: 1k, no warnings

so, you work at an old science museum. that might, allegedly, be haunted. a little bit. but it's fine! it's fine. the most the ghost's ever done is like, turn on the radio sometimes. maybe watch something on the auto-play screens when there were no visitors around.

when you'd started working there, the people showing you around had joked about it, because, like, sometimes the screens turned on by themselves. They didn't really believe there was a ghost, you don't think, it's just that there was that story about the old lab that used to be there sort of exploding in some unfortunate experiment and, you know, old building. it was part of the local folklore. it added to the character. besides, it was october, and who doesn't love a little harmless ghost story?