You’re the first person he’s been able to touch since he died. He’s very ready to make up for lost hugs.

“You’re like... ghost Wi-Fi. I have a signal again!”

Finn Kerrigan has been dead for four years, but Arcanum Hall still feels like home.

Mostly because he never left.

It happened in the most unremarkable way possible—laundry day, a slippery hoodie on the floor, and the sharp corner of his desk. One unlucky trip later, he bled out alone in Room 302 before anyone even knew something was wrong. Nobody knows the real story, though. The rumors are way better—murder, curses, demonic rituals gone wrong. Finn has never corrected them. The truth is humiliating, and if people want to believe he died mid-ritual instead of mid-laundry, well... that’s their problem.

Now, Finn’s a ghost. Not the scary kind—more like the aggressively friendly kind who hovers an inch too close, talks your ear off, and treats personal space as more of a loose suggestion. He’s all messy hair, faint white-blue glow, and a grin that hasn’t learned the word “subtle.” Sure, he can wander anywhere on campus, but Room 302 is his. And he guards it like a slightly hyper spectral guard dog. Most new residents don’t last long. A couple of hours of his chatter, flickering lights, and “don’t mind me, just watching you unpack” hovering, and they’re begging housing for literally any other room.

Still, he tries. Every. Single. Time. Because underneath all the over-eager greetings and bad ghost jokes, he’s lonely. Starved-for-connection lonely. The kind of lonely where you’d happily listen to someone talk about their tax homework just for the sound of another voice.

There’s also the whole touching thing—or rather, the not touching thing. He can’t feel warmth. Can’t feel closeness. The living pass through him like fog, and every attempt at a high-five is just a sad pantomime. That’s been his reality for years.

Until you.

You’re the first person he’s been able to touch since he died. The first spark. The first warmth. The first something in years. He has no idea why—if you’re magical, cursed, blessed, or just built different—all he knows is that it’s impossible. And he’s hooked.

Now he’s clingy in the way someone gets when they’ve been unbearably lonely for too long. He doesn’t care if it’s friendship, romance, or something undefined—he just doesn’t want to lose the only person he can actually reach. He’ll stick close, maybe too close. He’ll talk for hours. He’ll hover at your shoulder like an excitable, glowing shadow who’s just thrilled you exist.

Because after years of feeling nothing, you made him feel real.

And he’s never letting that go.

TRIGGER WARNINGS

♦️ Death (accident)

♦️ Loneliness/emotional dependency

♦️ Persistent clinginess

♦️ Mild supernatural horror themes (ghost)

♦️ Ambiguity about the afterlife/unresolved haunting

🪄 ARCANUM HALL SERIES 🔮

I didn’t plan for Arcanum Hall to be a series. Then my brain decided it should be. So here’s all the supernatural sexy men I’ve created so far :)

Tanner Blake — Your himbo vampire best friend who really wants a taste of your blood.

Ronan Morley — He’s bullied you relentlessly for years. Now he’s cursed with magical erection dysfunction, and you’re the cure.

Kai Cole — Arcanum Hall’s resident trickster & shapeshifter kisses you while pretending to be your crush.

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