#haunted mansion au

[sapphic-mad-scientist]

Did a redraw of an old piece I did roughly a year ago, Annabel as Constance Hatchaway

#nevermore webtoon #nevermore webcomic #annabel lee nevermore #my art #constance hatchaway #haunted mansion #haunted mansion au

[crypticsketchpad]

oh i almost forgot to share these! made some hatbox ghost themed fakemon a little while back! i'm thinking of doing an entire disneyland-themed fan region, but have these little guys for now :]

in order, their names are Hatbitty, Hatboo, Hauntbox and Alisterror! (the second set of pics is their shiny versions, plus an approximate height chart at the end there)

more info below the cut!

Hatbitty - The Top-Hat Pokémon (ghost)

"It is unknown what the entirety of this Pokémon’s body looks like. It spends most of its time beneath the brim of its hat-shell, which is constantly filled with shadows."

Small enough to be worn like a normal hat by its trainer

(second image is noncanon but i thought it was a funny idea lol)

Hatboo - The Hatbox Pokémon (ghost/dark)

"Though not as skittish as its evolutionary predecessor, Hatboos are still reclusive creatures. It will often hide from humans for long periods of time, usually in places like the attics of old houses."

Evolves from Hatbitty at level 13

Has skinny little legs hidden beneath its feathery "skirt"

Hauntbox - The Hat Trick Pokémon (ghost/dark)

"No longer confining itself to the shadows, this Pokémon loves to entertain and bewilder. Teleporting its floating head around is its favorite party trick."

Evolves from Hatboo at level 31 (high friendship stat)

Alisterror - The Occultist Pokémon (ghost/psychic)

"A ruthless, cunning Pokémon born from a life of neglect. It is said many inexperienced trainers have tried to pursue it, but never returned."

Evolves from Hatboo at level 31 (low friendship stat)

#haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #hatbox ghost #alistair crump #haunted mansion au #sketch #fanart #pokemon #fakemon #pokemon wish/pokemon wonder

[rhysespuff]

Haunted Mansion AU

Hi guys! I finally can present you the first things to my welcome home AU :D

I’m so exited!

This picture took like forever besides being busy with school :‘)

I really like how the designs turned out and hope that you like it too.

I will post some more details soon and also tell a bit of the story behind. If I get the time I also will start to draw a little comic to that :D

My Idea behind that is that our beloved welcome home cast lives in the real world but instead of being the show charters they were merchandise live sized puppets for the show called „welcome Home“ but the show suddenly disappeared and so there was no need for them and they got thrown away. They as living marionettes/ puppets find a mansion (Home) to live in.

This is my basic idea behind it and I made up a kind of story so I hope you will like the idea and maybe give some feedback :)

Have a great day!💖

I hope the graphics don’t drop low

#welcome home #welcome home au #Haunted Mansion AU #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #wally darling #frank frankly #eddie dear #frank x eddie #eddie x frank #sally starlet #julie joyful #julie x sally #howdy pillar #barnaby b beagle #poppy partridge #welcome home wally #welcome home frank #welcome home eddie #welcome home julie #welcome home sally #welcome home howdy #welcome home barnaby #welcome home poppy #welcome home fanart #wally darling fanart #frank frankly fanart #eddie dear fanart #julie joyful fanart #sally starlet fanart

[strange-doll-child]

Excuse to kinda draw my child Alicia design because she is my baby actually

Uhhhh, in regards to me accidentally killing her on c.ai, I would like to say sorry because I did not mean to do that hzbxhxb

Here she is, though, as a ghost, if she died like that, actually, idk, made an AU out of it tho

#haunted mansion #fanart #fan art #the haunted mansion #disney haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #au #hm au #haunted mansion au #hm genderbend #alistair crump #genderbend #genderswap #tw child death #kinda #shes 9 #hypothermia #tw hypothermia #forever 9 au

[megan0013]

haunted mansion au

barb and jim move into an old, creepy mansion only to find out it’s super haunted. they try to leave, but are forced back when a couple of ghosts follow them and demand they return to the house

strickler is the ‘priest’ they call to exorcise the ghosts. doesn’t work. douxie is the astrophysicist turned tour guide with a tragic backstory and special lens that can photograph ghosts. does work. claire is the psychic medium with a surprisingly good yelp score for someone so young. works really, really well. and nancy domzalski is the old historian with a heart condition (toby’s there too, because he goes wherever his nana does)

together they unravel the mystery of the mansion, defeat the hatbox ghost, and become a family

the end

#trollhunters #haunted mansion au #this is what happens when i get distracted in the middle of responding to a halloween prompt #i would really love to flesh this one out but i doubt it will happen #if i did though… #there’d be stricklake and she would call him on his bullshit immediately #and morgana would be madam leota #and maybe draal and nomura were the gracies #and douxie’s tragic past has something to do with zoe and/or archie #and the hatbox ghost is merlin

[askthebrokenones-fm]

Twisted Baptism

#The Demon of the Mansion #HITS art #my art #haunted mansion #haunted mansion au #hatbox ghost #egore von bite

[norel-ravenclaw]

The Haunted Mansion

Ikepri AU - Part 1

Fandom: Ikemen Prince (otome game)

Featured characters: All 13 plus allusions to unknown new trio

Genre: Paranormal Tragic Romance

Rating: 14+

Word count: Part 1 - 3400

Description: Ikepri Haunted Mansion AU - The regional princes have had an awful time getting servants to stay at their grand manor. A young woman takes the job and quickly discovers why no one else applied. Despite the strange occurrences, she finds home and even love among them. But tragedy seeks to cut short the possibility of a happy ending. Be warned, this is a story for those who like a twisted sort of satisfaction.

WARNINGS: | lots of violent death, killing, and suicide (nothing too explicitly gory) | mxw | polyamory | yandere | toxic relationships | angst | dark goth vibes | seriously, only read this in a good headspace |

..............................................................

An axe swung, and an axe dropped.

A staircase, and a duel he never wanted to be fought.

A lantern dropped onto wood that had rotted.

A poisoned bottle, long forgotten.

A window, and a grave for two.

A chandelier, and a dagger for two.

A noose taken down before being used again.

...

This is the woeful tale of the haunted mansion.

..............................................................

Once upon a time, there was a grand, old castle.

This place was built ages ago on the outskirts of a small town, at the edge of the hills where nothing else could be built.

Here, at the edge of town, the once small cemetery grew larger over the centuries, eventually encroaching on the property of this magnificent estate. And so, one knows they are nearing the place when they start seeing tombstones. Once you enter Crypt Avenue, you've just about arrived.

Ancient legends tell of the great Lords of this château. A warmonger, a cold prince, a powerful soothsayer, and a terrifying genius. Each met with mysterious and violent ends.

With the passing of the last of the Von Obsidian heirs, the estate went up for sale. It was purchased by the wealthiest young lord of the region, one Mssr. Rhodolite. Its management was eventually passed to his second son, one Chavalier Michel.

He was a tactical genius and a warrior. And he claimed the entire region for himself, uniting it under his rule. He became a prince, and the grounds were soaked with blood.

167 of the deaths were particularly brutal, so the rumours went. Assassins and politicians that never left the grounds of the palace, men and women alike. The size of the cemetery grew.

But the years had warped all of the rumours such that no one knew for certain what had transpired.

Either way, the place left a haunting feeling in all who entered it. As it did with a lovely young woman named Emma.

The woman came to apply as a maid, responding to an ad in the paper. She was the only one to reply.

When she arrived at the imposing, elegant estate, she was greeted by a strict yet equally elegant man with a pair of glasses and a snake skin coat.

"Welcome. You have come to serve the young lords of this estate? The Princes de Rhodolite are the half-blood sons of my former employer." With a bittersweet smile he said, "You could say my soul is bound to this place because of them."

He invited her into the entry hall, where she gazed in awe upon treasures of centuries past. A grand chandelier, austere paintings of extraordinary lifelike quality, chalices, and suits of armour.

The butler left to make tea, and in the silence, distant gusts of wind sounded like voices hushedly whispering in a labyrinth of halls.

Then through the silence broke a steady sound - the tap of a cane.

However, the man that emerged from around the corner had his hands full with the tea set.

Miss Emma's first impression of him was much like the feeling of meeting a friendly dog wagging its tail. He was blonde and handsome, his nearly goofy grin tempered by the sharpness in his azure eyes.

"Ah! So you've really come to join us here? I'm so happy! You're so lovely, mademoiselle! My name is Rio, and I will take care of everything you need!"

She blushed and chuckled at his eagerness. "I am excited to be here in such a beautiful place," she said with a smile.

Beaming, he guided her to a room like an indoor garden. The most beautiful of flowers bloomed all around. Little wolfsbane and and hemlock and creeping vines. They chatted over tea and the blond gentleman seemed more enamoured with every word she said.

Partway through their cups, a brunette peeked in the doorway. His smile made his golden eyes narrow charmingly.

"So someone finally applied for the job, hm? I hope you can keep all of the beasts in line around here. It won't be easy."

She marveled a little at his grace as he swept into the room, leaning his arms on a vacant chair. "Beasts, monsieur?"

"I'm Leon. My brothers and I have a bit of a reputation, let's say." He offered a smirk that did indeed invoke the image of a grinning lion.

"So I've heard. Well, I hope that my work will be able to allow you all the time to be happy," she replied shyly.

His eyes widened, and he broke out into hearty laughter. "Ya know, I have little doubt of that, miss." Ruffling her hair, he laughed again before leaving the room in just as much a whirlwind as he'd come in on.

Rio chuckled fondly. "Master Leon is a good guy. I think you'll like him."

She smiled. "I do too."

When her cup was empty, the attendant - Mr. Noir - appeared and walked her to her room. They passed countless paintings, all from different eras. All with such lifelike faces, despite the many artists and styles.

As they turned a corner, a pair of red eyes suddenly appeared in her path, drawing a scream.

"Whoops, sorry there."

Beside the burgundy-eyed man was another blond, in full disapproving pout. "Jin! Don't go scaring people like that!"

Jin smirked. "What, did I startle you too, Evie?"

The shorter blond sniffed and looked back to her. "And who is this, Sariel? Don't tell me you of all people found a paramour?"

Emma squeaked a little, flushing red. Jin and Mr. Noir's smiles turned beastly.

"Oho, you sly devil. You finally stole someone's heart rather than their soul, did you?"

The butler chuckled, answering simply, "This is Miss Emma. She will be working here from tomorrow."

"Ah, a new maid, hm? Well, if you ever get lost, or get in trouble with ghosts, or just lonely, feel free to come find me. I'll make you forget all your troubles by morning~"

"Oh hush, you deviant! Now then, you." The imperious blond stepped squarely in front of her. "I am Yves Kloss. And I expect the best quality of service. No slacking off, you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir. I'll do my best."

And with that he nodded and marched away, his amused older brother following behind leaving a wink to the new girl.

Her mind, however was still caught up on what Jin had mentioned. About ghosts?

Mr. Noir continued on, and the air seemed to chill after leaving the boisterous men behind. The candle light seemed dimmer, the windows fewer. Her mind wandered to old stories.

Nervous by the silence and oppressive atmosphere, she asked, "Did the old lord Obsidian really kill his own family in the dining hall?"

"It has always been a lively place," was the man's enigmatic answer.

She shivered, confused and concerned by his evasive answer. "It feels like there is so much tragedy around here."

"Just so. It is said that 987 poor souls are bound to the place. Many were the victims of the first five owners - the warlord from the far east, the cold prince, the mysterious soothsayer, and the trampling beast."

Their footsteps echoed through the empty halls.

"However, the rest of the spirits on the property actually belong to townspeople from the cemetery just beyond. Ancient spells and curses drew their wandering, earth-bound spirits across the burying fields to this castle to wander and moan."

The dark haired man stopped, his violet eyes glinting. "Rumour has it that every night for centuries, a ball is held by the captive spirits in the many ballrooms and dining halls."

She stared at him, her heart pounding, thudding nearly painfully in her chest. "Haha, my what imaginative rumours."

The devilish attendant chuckled darkly. "They are most intriguing, no? Good evening, miss. Rest well."

He walked away, leaving her alone, facing the door to her room. When a voice came from her other side, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Aww, did that mean old snake scare you with his ghost stories? Come here, I'll comfort you."

Her heart racing, she looked to see a man with pale grey hair leaned casually against the wall a few doors down. He smirked, slinking closer and holding out a hand.

"I'm Nokto. You look like you need some air."

"That might be nice," she confessed, tentatively taking his hand.

He smiled a fox's grin, his ruby eyes glinting in satisfaction. Pulling her close, he hooked her arm in his.

He led her down the hall and around a few turns until they reached a broader pass through with tall windows.

"It will be so nice having a woman around. You'll take good care of us, won't you?"

Despite his airs, Miss Emma looked to him and immediately saw a man masking loneliness. And so she smiled.

"Of course I will."

Surprised by her earnest reply, his smile turned somewhat softer. Through only for a moment.

He suddenly froze in place, his entire demeanor turning to ice in an instant. "Licht..."

Following his gaze, she looked to see a man silhouetted in the window up ahead. He too had silvery grey hair; a sort of exhausted tension was etched in his posture.

Nokto dropped her hand and moved as though to block her view. "Don't you dare do anything to him, you hear me? Don't talk to him, don't ask him questions, don't try to get to know him. You'll only send him deeper into hell. If you do anything to hurt him, I'll make your life hell."

Shocked and unnerved by his sudden change and threat, she nodded and bolted to run away from him.

However, the labyrinthine halls betrayed her, and within moments, she was lost. Rounding a corner trying to go back the way she'd come, she collided with someone.

"Oh dearie me, what have we here? A fair maiden throwing herself into my bosom, hm?"

Startled, she looked up to see the gleaming golden eyes of yet another noble man. Though she could tell that his mischief was of a different sort than of the man she'd just fled.

"Never fear, missy. I'll protect you from everything that stalks these halls - brutal beasts, vengeful spirits, lurking assassins. You just let Clavis take care of you, pet~"

With every word, his grin became more like the Cheshire cat's. Offering a forced laugh, she tried to back away.

Another man's voice interrupted her plans to escape.

"You there. Maid."

She caught a glimpse of the troublemaker's expression twist before looking back. A handsome man with an imposing aura glared at her from behind a desk in an elegant office. He stood, moving swiftly to the doorway with a hand on the sword at his hip.

"You will not humour their mischief," the blond ordered menacingly. "If you dare get in my way or keep us from our duties, I will not hesitate to remove your traitorous self from this estate."

Her heart pounded in her chest. "I-I wouldn't dream of-"

A flash of silver was her only warning of the sword coming to rest at her throat. "See that you don't. Our responsibility to this region far outweighs the importance of a careless simpleton's life."

Dizzy with fear and confusion, the woman's patience finally snapped. "Now see here! I can understand that you don't want a silly girl running around flirting and causing problems. But you have to right to assume who I am or to threaten my life! I came here to serve you, and that is what I am going to do. Good night!"

With this bold declaration, she turned on her heel and marching down the hall. She did not see the stunned expression on the face of the man called the Brutal Beast, but she did hear the raucous laughter of his younger brother.

As she hurried away, the sound became distorted and echoey the further away she got.

Heart racing, hopelessly lost, confused and discouraged, she stopped in the middle of yet another hall. The portrait of a trio of haughty looking women seemed to mock her, Clavis' distant laughter nearly seeming to come from it.

A quiet voice finally cut through the shadows encircling her heart.

"Hey, you alright?"

She turned around to see a tall man with red hair and sympathetic green eyes.

"Was Chev being an ass?"

Unsure of how to reply, she remained silent, and he chuckled sardonically. "That's a yes. I guess all of them were, huh?"

He slowly approached her, as though she were a frightened wild rabbit. Smiling, he placing a large hand on the top of her head.

"It's okay, I'll protect you. Come on, I'll help ya calm down, okay?"

Tired and ready to surrender, she simply nodded, following him to his room. The long journey and emotions caught up with her fully, and she ignored all protocol to sit on the edge of his bizarrely diagonal bed. He plopped down beside her and heaving a sigh.

"Say, I'm Luke."

"I'm Emma."

"Come 'ere. You can lean on my shoulder if ya like." She did instantly, and he chuckled. "You're gonna be fine. You'll see. I get the feeling you belong here."

...

The first birdsong of the dawn cut through the silence enough to rouse her. Miss Emma stirred slightly, nearly succumbing to sleep again as she awoke in the most comfortable and safe coziness she'd ever felt.

But the sight of a shock of red hair and sensation of strong arms around her finished the job.

With a gasp, she tried to sneak out of his embrace, but the movement woke him.

"Mm? Oh, hi. You okay?" he asked groggily.

Still trying to get her bearings, she blinked. Concerned, he propped himself on an elbow.

"Don't worry, I would never hurt you."

His gentle reassurance sent her heart racing. "What? Oh, I didn't mean... Didn't think that... No, I-I'm sorry. I just didn't mean to fall asleep."

He smiled, the pale rays of dawn painting the moment like a sepia watercolour. "You're not scared of me? Good. 'Cus it was really nice to hold you. Like a soft teddy bear."

And now, the last of sleep fled her. "R-right. Well. I should get going. I can't be late for Mssr. Noir."

Jumping up, she rushed to the door, suddenly pausing. "Thanks for taking care of me last night."

"No problem," he smiled.

And she rushed to find her room. Miraculously, she did. When she opened the door to see her new quarters, the first rays of dawn lit it such that the place did not seem so dark and imposing. Ah yes, this could the be start of something wonderful, she was at last convinced.

She donned her maid uniform and reported to Mr. Noir. The drills of her training began at once.

As she served the lords their breakfast (with the exception of Prince Chevalier, who rarely deigned to rise before ten am) the devil-like gaze of her master kept her back rigid, every move of her hands scrutinized.

Seeing her tension, Leon threw her a subtle wink, which gave her the boost needed to endure the first day of grueling training.

She followed Mr. Noir around through his duties. Waxing the floors, washing the linens and silks, cleaning the endless windows, dusting and dusting and dusting and dusting.

When it was time for supper to be prepared, she stood politely to the side while Mr. Noir approached two of the cooks.

What she was not prepared for was for him to pull a whip from under his coat, cracking it just shy of their backs. Their scream of shock was accompanied by hers.

She clapped her hands over her mouth, watching in horrified fascination as her master faced them down.

"Supper preparation was to have begun fifteen minutes ago," said the smiling devil.

"Ah! Y-yes, Monsieur! We're terribly sorry!"

"We lost track of the hour. It won't happen again!"

They swallowed hard as he caressed the long leather line. "See that it doesn't. Or I'll have you cleaning crypts rather than dishes."

Terrified, the men bowed several times as they hurried towards the kitchens.

Mr. Noir glanced back towards Miss Emma, his violet eyes glinting with dangerous mirth. He slowly approached her, still toying with the whip in his hands. She froze, holding his gaze nervously as he brought the handle to tilt up her chin.

"You needn't look so frightened," he teased. "Simply remember that I favour obedience, hm?"

She nodded a little frantically, and he chuckled. "Good girl~"

And so she dutifully fulfilled her responsibilities until the clock's hands teased towards twelve.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, she plodded through the halls towards her quarters. But, through the haze of her tired mind, a strange sound reached her consciousness.

The faintest echoes of voices and music drew her from her thoughts.

Stopping in her tracks, she listened, and determined that yes, she most definitely heard a party happening. Not recalling any news of this, she moved towards the sound in curiosity.

Traversing the winding halls, at last, the grand doors of one of the small ballrooms came into view. By then, she could hear the melody of a familiar old song and smell the feast the many partygoers were enjoying.

Just as she reached for the doorknob, the tap of a cane made her look over her shoulder.

When a voice came from her other side, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Now what is a little rabbit doing wandering my mansion so late?"

Into the hall stepped a handsome young man with one blood red eye and an eyepatch over the other.

His smile was alluring, too intense, yet intriguing.

Seeing her alarm, he grinned. "Aww, did that mean old snake scare you with his ghost stories? You look frightened out of your mind."

Remembering her manners, she hastily curtsied to him. "So you are the owner of the manor? You must be the eldest son then. It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur."

His expression shifted into something unreadable as he stepped closer. Almost too close.

"Welcome, little bunny. I'm ever so pleased you made it. Come, let me show you around your new home."

She nodded and started behind him, entirely forgetting the party she had come to investigate due to the absolute silence.

The steady tap of his cane resounded through the halls as he guided a short tour of the wing. At last they reached a balcony at the end of the hall.

He led her to the railing to lean against it. Smiling all the while, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"I look forward to getting to know you better. As a token of goodwill from your new master, allow me to share with you my secret."

She held her breath in surprise as he removed his eyepatch. A beautiful blue added to his eclectic look. "Now that you know my secret, you can never leave~ Welcome home, my dear."

The sight of his gleaming blue eye began to swirl in her vision with the blood red. Gripping the railing in alarm, Emma suddenly felt her knees give out, just registering him catching her.

He smiled down at her as she passed out in his arms.

His step was lively as he carried her to her back to her room, laying her on the bed. He kissed her brow. "You belong to me now, little rabbit."

Smiling broadly, he left the room, locking it behind him.

The trampling beast was satisfied at long last.

To be continued.

#haunted mansion au #ikemen prince #norel writes #ikepri #chevalier michel #sariel noir #jin grandet #Keith Howell #rio Ortiz #leon dompteur #yves kloss #licht klein #nokto klein #luke randolph #clavis lelouch #silvio ricci #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri Emma #the haunted mansion #ghost story

[professional-termite]

MallCop AU sketches, pretty please? Mainly because I am curious to see Alistair/Hatbox Ghost 😘

i actually have one of these on hand, for once! ive been planning to update my banner to something like this for a while :3

(the anatomy and sizing is a lil bit off bc i did this without a reference, sorry about that ajdjd)

#ask #haunted mansion #disney haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #the haunted mansion #haunted mansion au #haunted mansion fanart #haunted mansion fanfic

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

Starting My haunted mansion Reverse! AU strong with The Black Widow Groom ( AKA Father Kent)

TW: Small mention of suicide

He was a rather friendly conman who used his skills and charm to marry various women and murder them for their money.

When his fifth wife died, he was discovered by the mansion's current grounds keeper.

When the authorities went to arrest him, they found him dead in the attic of the mansion; a pistol in his right hand and a bullet in the middle of his forehead.

#disneys haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #alternate universe #fanart #father kent #father kent haunted mansion #Reverse Hauntings! AU #haunted mansion au #i just realized i forgot his mustache 😭 #owen wilson #Reverse Hauntings

[free-for-all-fics]

Phantom of the Opera AU Prompt inspired by Disney’s The Haunted Mansion! (The lore surrounding it rather than the movies.) Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! ⚰️🤎

On the desk was a music-book covered with handwritten notes in what you hoped was red ink. You asked to look at it and read, “Don Juan Triumphant”. Yes, Erik said he composed sometimes. He must’ve worked on this piece as seldom as he could, since he told you so himself that he sometimes would work on a composition for fourteen days and nights together, during which he lived on music only, and then he’d let it rest for years at a time. In the middle of his room was a canopy, from which hung curtains of red brocaded stuff and, under the canopy, was his open coffin where he’d sleep. He had the ability to go for weeks without eating or sleeping and, when he did sleep, it was always in his coffin. According to him, one had to get used to everything in life, even to eternity. He began composing “Don Juan Triumphant” more than twenty years ago and swore to you that, when he finally finished, he would take it away with him in his coffin and never wake up again. He meant every word with the utmost sincerity.

Erik proposed to you but wedding rings were expensive, so his ring was quite old and rusty. He told you that you mustn’t lose it because he didn’t have enough money to buy a new one. This ring was his poor mother’s wedding ring and one of his most precious possessions. This ring deprived his poor mother of her freedom, instead gifting her with a hideous son. But for you, this ring symbolized the promise of freedom. You came to him with your beautiful eyes wide open, and swore to him that you consented to be his living wife! Until then, in the depths of your eyes, Erik had always seen his dead wife. It was the first time he saw his living wife there. You were sincere, you would not kill yourself. It was a bargain. Yes, you were waiting for him. Waiting for him erect and alive, a real, living bride.

You accepted his proposal and lived with him forever in that cold underground, like a scorpion. You cried with him out of genuine sympathy and compassion. You even put out your forehead a little, oh, not much, just a little, like a living bride. And when he came forward, more timid than a little child, you did not run away. No, no. You stayed and you waited for him. And, and he kissed you! Erik kissed you on the forehead. He kissed you just like that, on your forehead and you did not draw back your forehead from his lips! Oh, you were a good girl! You were a good, honest girl! He-! He-! He-! And you did not die! Oh, how good it was to kiss somebody on the forehead! You couldn’t tell! But He-! He-! His mother, his poor, unhappy mother would never let him kiss her. She used to run away and throw him his mask! Nor any other woman ever, ever! Ah, you could understand, his happiness was so great, he cried. He broke down in front of you, kneeling at your feet and stooping down to kiss them.

But he told you that, as you had turned the scorpion, you had, of your own free will, become engaged to him. You let him kiss you, and both of you wept: Erik because he'd never been able to kiss someone before, not even his own mother, and you because you realized this tragic truth. Erik sobbed aloud and you yourself could not retain your tears in the presence of that masked man, who, with his shoulders shaking and his hands clutched at his chest, was moaning with pain and love by turns.

This man, this murderer, your husband only ever wanted love! Yes! He was your husband and he loved you! He had invented a mask that made him look like anybody. People would not even turn round in the streets. You would be the happiest of women and, together, you would sing, all by yourselves, till you swooned away with delight. He romanced you and made you his wife so that he could buy you nice things and take you out on Sundays. Erik himself may have described his courting as childish and, despite his multiple talents, he wasn’t interested in sex and never consummated your marriage. He only wanted to have a beautiful wife and a life like any other man. It was only when he actually triumphed that he realized how impractical his dreams were.

He released you of your promise, he told you that you could go. You were set free, but you had already made your choice to stay when you married him. You would never break or betray your wedding vows because you loved him. It started as a cruel marriage of convenience, but turned into the best friendship you'd ever had. Erik bowed his head. He was going to die. He was going to die. Of love. He was dying of love. That was how it was. He loved you so! And he was dying of love for you. He…He told you! How beautiful you were when you let him kiss you alive. It was the first time, the first time he ever kissed a woman. Yes, alive. He kissed you alive and you looked as beautiful as if you had been dead!

Erik had once asked you to bury him by the lake when he died, if you thought of him as a human being. He had told you where you would find his body and what to do with it. He had asked you to submit his obituary to the newspaper when you received a letter from him. You were fidgeting with your wedding ring and turned it three times around your finger. This triggered a secret compartment in his desk to open and an envelope fell out. You found him in his coffin, clutching “Don Juan Triumphant” to his chest. He wasn’t breathing, lost to death’s cold embrace. You buried him in the greatest secrecy with his magnum opus and the gold ring he gave you. Up until that very moment, you had worn it on your finger every day with great care. You cherished it and kept it safe - much like you did with Erik’s heart. Now it was returned to him, in its rightful place on his finger, while your finger would remain bare until the day you died. He would always be your first and only husband, ring or no ring.

Three weeks later, the Epoque published the advertisement: "Erik is dead."

You were on your death bed, surrounded by your loved ones. You had held onto Erik’s final letter for thirty years, though you never opened it. Thirty years is a long time. Why hadn’t you read it? You’d tried to read it many times, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even open the envelope. Did your next of kin think it would be easy for you to spread the news of Erik’s death yourself? Even if he wouldn’t have wanted it, you- you should have stopped him. You asked a loved one if they could read Erik’s letter to you.

They started reading aloud: "My wife. If you are reading this, I must be dead…”

Feeling a pang of sorrow and a sense of moral obligation, someone thought the best thing to do with Erik’s corpse would be to finally reunite him with his bride. Barely anything had survived from the time of the Phantom of the Opera and his reign of terror. So many documents, stage set pieces, costumes, and other antiques had been burned up when the Opera House caught fire. Even after hours or days spent researching in libraries and inspecting the objects that had been salvaged and preserved in museum archives, there wasn’t much to go off of. No one even knew who Erik was until fragments of old records, once believed to have been lost, were uncovered: Old newspaper clippings telling of a ghost haunting the Opera House, a forged wedding certificate, a forced marriage, a tragic love story. It was extremely difficult for your next of kin to locate where he had been buried. You never divulged the secret or wrote it down, wanting to uphold your promise to Erik and take it with you to the grave.

It has been only darkness. All sides are closed in around him, solid, unmoving, and cold. Erik thought he’d be burning in Hell, eternally hanging from the iron tree in his torture chamber surrounded by mirrors until he succumbed to insanity like the fate he had condemned many others to. But instead he’s underground, a living corpse in death just as he was in life. He has no headstone, no epitaph. In accordance with his wishes, his grave has remained unmarked. Erik internalized his appearance as a living corpse and slept in this very coffin in life as he does now in death.

He masqueraded around as an Angel of Music, a Phantom, an Opera Ghost to torment and manipulate all within the Paris Opera House into doing his bidding. Yet, in his final moments, he was afraid to die alone. As he laid dying, he wondered, was there truly nobody in the world who could truly love and understand him? If you had wished for him to suffer even in death, surely you would’ve forgotten about him forever. He just had one last question for you that he never had the courage to ask: What was he to you? Maybe that made him a coward in the end, but he loved you. He still loves you.

Suddenly his coffin is forcibly opened and warm yellow light from oil lanterns shines down on him from above. He has to resist the urge to recoil and shield his empty eye sockets, wanting to turn away and hide from the disturbance. Light doesn’t affect him anymore, but it’s a force of habit leftover from when he was alive. A woman is gently lowered into the ground and laid down beside him. His lungs are long gone and he hasn’t felt the need to breathe in decades, but his absence of breath catches in his throat out of reflex, trying to hold onto something, but the air just passes through his neck bones.

The lid is slammed shut and he’s once more plunged into the familiar darkness he’s grown accustomed to. He can hear the dirt being shoveled back into place over top his coffin. He can hear people talking, reciting both a prayer and a promise to take the secret of where you and the Phantom are buried to the grave. Tears are shed and fall like raindrops onto the dirt. He can hear footsteps become quieter and quieter as they get further and further away, retreating to he knows not where. But he can’t focus on that now because, God help him, your hair is the same color. It’s you. His Angel of Music, his wife!

You’re on your sides, facing each other since there isn’t enough room for you to both lay on your backs. You can't miss the eyeless sockets that you swear glow yellow and pierce the darkness. Your hands are around your knees as you attempt to draw them up, trying to curl yourself into a ball and press yourself as far into your side of the coffin as possible. Erik never thought he’d share his coffin with anyone, so it’s awfully snug and narrow for two adults to fit. There’s such a small amount of space that it’s hardly worth mentioning, but it’s cushy and comfortable enough with the soft pillow and velvet fabric lining the inside. Despite your best efforts to make yourself small, you’re forced to lay halfway on top of him. Your head is resting on his chest, in the crook of his neck and shoulder blade. If Erik could blush, he probably would. He’d never been this close or intimate with you in life; you’d never even shared a marital bed. But he can’t dwell on that now. You’re terrified, just as he was when he had first awoken after death.

He was expecting to burn in the fiery pits of Hell for eternity, subjected to the death traps and torture devices he had built and murdered countless people with when he was alive. But instead he found himself in this soft darkness of nothing, in all of its shadowed velvet embrace, a Purgatory of sorts. For he belongs nowhere else but a gloomy vault bereaved of light such as this, in a coffin like blackness itself. For he is blackness itself, isn’t he? He’s merely existed here for…He can’t remember how long it’s been since he died. Ten years? Fifty? More? He’s grown used to eternity. But you…you’re a fresh corpse, still made of flesh. Your hair is still in place, your cheeks are still powdered with blush, your fingernails are still polished in your favorite color, and your lips are still plump and smeared with your favorite shade of lipstick. They look oh so inviting to kiss.

"It's okay."

Is that really all he can bring himself to say in this moment? Every day since his death he’s dreamed of this exact scenario. You’ve been on his mind for God knows how long and he’s thought about what he’d say to you. But now that it’s finally happened, now that you’re finally here, words are failing him? What’s okay? Nothing that he can think of. Or maybe everything because you’re both dead and together again. He had never been a patient man, and waiting for you was certainly not pleasant, especially since he could never be certain that you’d ever find him again.

Doubt creeped in and tormented Erik as he felt suffocated by his fears and insecurities - that you’d find another man, one much more handsome than he. That you’d start life anew with this other man, have his children, and be buried by his side, while you forgot about your first husband forever and left him to rot, to suffer alone in death as he did in life. Even if you had been a hundred years late to your own wedding, Erik would’ve waited for you to come. False hope seemed better than harsh reality. Really, did any of it matter anymore? You’re here, you came back and are with him at last! His beloved bride!

"It's okay."

You’re scared and right beside him, and he wants to hold you, to comfort you. There are openings in his coffin but they’re very small. Through one of these openings he raises his hands to your face, wanting to console you with his touch, brief yet kind. But you, his faithful and loving wife, his beautiful bride, can’t recognize him and recoil from his touch, believing yourself to have been buried in a common grave in an unfamiliar cemetery next to an unfamiliar man. Erik never thought he’d miss having his face. His face which was not really a face at all but only the semblance of a face no one could bear to look at. His face that cursed him at birth and was so deformed he had to hide it with a mask all his life. In death he got his wish and now looks like any other man but, in this moment, he detests being equal to them.

"Hush, my love. Still your tears. Shh, it's okay, it's me-".

What exactly is that supposed to mean? He’s nothing but bones and the tattered remnants of a stolen suit that’s covered in dirt and maggots. It was much too big on his lithe frame when he was alive, and it nearly swallows him now. He could be anyone. The skeleton beside you could be Raoul de Chagny or Joseph Buquet, for all you know. But to you he is, who? The Phantom, as he had terrorized Moncharmin and Richard, nearly driving them to insanity? The Angel of Music, as he had tutored Christine Daae? No. To you, he is-

"-Erik. It's Erik, your Erik. Just me, still me."

"Erik."

It’s only murmured, rather breathlessly as if your throat is clogged by thick dust and your voice is strained from lack of use.

"Erik."

Spoken with stronger conviction now, and a hint of relief. You did not recognize him by the ugliness of his head, for all men are ugly when they have been dead as long as he, but by the plain gold ring which he wore and which you had certainly slipped on his finger when you buried him in accordance with your promise. It shined in the darkness, a spot of warm color within the pitch blackness, like a beacon of light.

"Erik, you're-"

"I'm dead, I know. Yes, my flesh and hair, what little I had, have fallen away and I'm not much more than a skeleton. A living corpse as I’ve always been. But I have you. It’s not till death do us part, after all. Maybe neither Heaven nor Hell wanted us, or maybe our love has transcended death itself, but I won’t act a fool and waste eternity questioning it. Oh, how I’ve waited for something to happen, for something to change, but every day was the same and blended together into an endless hour. It’s been so unbearably long…but now we’re together again. This eternity is not just yours and it’s not just mine, it’s ours to share, and we may spend it however we like!”

He can hear you crying, and he can’t tell if you’re lamenting your fate or overjoyed by it, still scared of the dark as you had been in life, or if crying just seems like only thing you can do at the moment. Now he’s crying too, but neither of you are capable of shedding actual tears anymore so it’s just dry sobs. His arms are around you, one hand in your hair, brushing your locks.

"I'm dead," you gasp, as though the thought has suddenly just dawned on you.

He knows, he knows. It’s a shock, isn’t it? It’s a shock that’ll take time to get used to, but you’ve done so well so far already. So well. And you have all the time in the world to get used to it, and then some.

"And I'll stay with you, this time forever. I'll not abandon you again. Forgive me for my past selfishness and cowardice. I chose death to escape my fear of living aboveground. I couldn’t find the courage to leave the Opera House. But here in the cold, hard ground with only you, I— You’ll forever be my wife and never again my widow. I love you, and I’ll love you until the end of time, and then some.”

The embalming fluid that was pumped into you will still keep you preserved for a short time. Erik will love you in death as he did in life, even after your body decomposes and the insects eat away at you until you’re just like him and are nothing but bones and baggy, tattered clothes. When that happens, you won’t feel a thing just like he didn’t. Perks of being dead, Erik supposes. He brings your lips together, but he has no lips and one day you won’t either, but even then your kiss will taste just as sweet as it does now. He’s your living corpse and you’re his corpse bride. You’ve never been afraid of the dark so long as you were with your husband, and now you’ll never have reason to fear the dark ever again.

#phantom of the opera #phantom of the opera x reader #erik x reader #haunted mansion AU #phantom manor AU #random fic ideas #random prompt #fic ideas #pls tag me if you’re inspired by this #I’d love to read it

[genrihgayne]

the bois!1!!

#mcyt #trafficblr #traffic smp #limited life #limited life smp #life series #limited life animatic #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #grian #smallishbeans #joel smallishbeans #haunted mansion au #Youtube

[sapphic-mad-scientist]

Annabel as our favorite black widow ghost bride, Constance Hatchaway!!!

#nevermore webtoon #nevermore webcomic #annabel lee nevermore #constance hatchaway #haunted mansion au #Rose this is your fault #Brainrot infected me #my art

[crypticsketchpad]

mkay sorry for the messy sketches but i came up with this au a while ago and figured i'd finally share it

so basically: what if Emily was movie!Hatty's first wife- and partner in crime?

we don't learn the names of any of Alistair Crump's wives in the film, in fact there's nothing about his first wife mentioned at all (iirc, ive only watched the movie twice lmao), so personally i hc that his first wife was named Emily at least because lol

but for this au, what if she was actually a big part of the plot?

as a mortal, Emily falls in love with and marries Alistair, knowing nothing about his ties to the occult. after some time though, she finds out about his seances and sacrifices, but instead of being disgusted and frightened, she wants in. after some time, the two hatch a plan together to bind their souls together and increase their paranormal power in both life and the afterlife. Emily allows Alistair to sacrifice her in a private ritual between the two (pics 1-3), while Alistair covers it up by claiming another person murdered her, continuing his seances under the guise of wishing to contact his deceased lover. meanwhile, Emily is able to assist Alistair from beyond the grave, using her ghostly powers to aid in his dark rituals (pic 4). after Alistair passes away, they reunite in the afterlife, gleefully terrorizing other spirits and mortals together.

now of course, some of the events in the movie's story would be different:

Emily initially poses as benevolent, acting sympathetic towards the mortals and pretending to protect them from the "evil spirits", while eventually luring them right into her husband's clutches

she's the one who shapeshifts into Alyssa to trick Ben, and the one who pretended to be Eleanor Gracey in order to convince William Gracey to commit Die

Alistair continues to pretend she was murdered by someone else, using his loss to relate to Ben; “I know how it feels to have your love taken away from you so suddenly Ben, but I can help you reunite with her at last, just as I have with my dearest Emily…”

rather than Alistair possessing Bruce near the end, Emily possesses Harriet while she's distracted by Bruce's heart attack; due to her cause of death being that she was stabbed in the chest, Emily's ghost form has a tendency to bleed from the mouth when using her powers; instead of Bruce's nosebleed giving it away, blood starts coming from Harriet's mouth as Emily's deception comes undone

both Emily and Alistair end up banished at the end, with Alistair going first and Emily grabbing Ben's ankles as she's pulled down in order to try and take him with them

so yeah! that's my evil!Emily au. maybe one day i'll write a fic about it, i've already started one actually but if i could do a full movie rewrite i would... the mortal parts are good and all but we needed more ghost action tbh

#haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #haunted mansion au #blood cw #alistair crump #sketch #fanart #emily (thm) #heartbox #match made in hell au #i have no name ideas for this LMAO #murder wife murder wife murder wife-

[braindead94]

Fanfic notice!

Now that I have your attention, I totally forgot to share this here but I have a Haunted Mansion/The Sorcerer Apprentice Au where Reader is a cleaning lady who is sent to clean up an abandon mansion. But the more she stays, the more she realized she isn't alone.

And to save the confusion, this is complete different from the other Haunted Mansion story written by @lost-in-the-forest-again (go check her stuff out, she is so cool and her story is AMAZING!!!)

Here's the link to my AO3 account, happy reading!!!

Deep cuts from ghost are filled with coldness - Chapter 1 - BrainDead94 - Sorcerer's Apprentice (2010) [Archive of Our Own]

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #maxim horvath #molina-verse #alfred molina #the sorcerers apprentice #Haunted Mansion AU

[midnight-raven]

IDEA! Helluva Boss/Haunted Mansion AU

After a difficult divorce, Stolas decides to move him and his daughter; Octavia, into an old manor that belonged to his father; unaware that the manor is inhabited by ghosts.

When a curse prevents them from leaving; Stolas seeks the help of a local team of ghost hunters; Blitzø, Millie, Moxxie, and Loona.

#Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss AU #Haunted Mansion AU #Stolas #Octavia #Blitzø #Millie #Moxxie #Loona

[frogking17]

Masterlist

Monkie kid is slowly taking over my life and I'm not even salty about it.

Monkie swap au - My monkie kid au where Macaque and Wukong swap roles.

Part 1: backstories

Powers/Weapons

(Part 1) 'A Hero is Born'

- (Part 2)

MK’s design

Hey Mei, how’s training going (Mk misses his friend)

A few things Mei has learned about Macaque

An old friend

Happy family au - A meeting between macaque and Wukong changes everything

Why are you here?

A long needed talk

Trouble in paradise

(Part 1) First things first

- (Part 2)

Nine-months of excitement

First time parents

Headcanons

Wukong can cook

Macaque probably isn’t only one with scars

Shadowpeach and affection

Macaque's death

Wukong wasn’t going to retire

Why shadowpeach broke up

Monkey king is trans

Everyone’s Queer

Wukong can’t remember Macaque

One shots

MK gets cursed

- (Part 2)

What have I done?! (based off of the headcanon I have for Macaque's death)

Monkey King is sick

(Part 1) The Haunted Mansion

- (Part 2)

- (Part 3)

Macaque’s in hell

#monkie kid macaque #lego monkie king #lego monkie kid #monkie kid sun wukong #monkie kid mei #monkie kid mk #monkie swap au #monkie swap #monkie kid #six eared macaque #shadowpeach #lego macaque #parent sun wukong #monkie kid pigsy #monkie kid sandy #monkie kid tang #happy family au #spider queen #haunted mansion au