#ghost x sky

[skylovesducks]

Through the Fog

The fog lay heavy between the containers, dense swathes that swallowed every movement and turned the area into a silent labyrinth. The only sound was the distant dripping of water, interrupted by the faint crunch of their boots on wet steel ground. Ghost led the way, barely more than a shadow in the gray, while Sky stayed close behind him, her M4 firmly in her grip.

“Stay close,�� murmured Ghost over the radio, his voice calm and cutting clear through the fog.

“Understood,” Sky replied softly, nodding, even though he couldn’t see her.

The containers loomed like massive, faceless walls, dark and menacing. At each corner, Ghost slowed his pace, his shoulders tense, his weapon ready. He peeked around the next bend, his head briefly moving past the rusted edge of a container. Sky halted and secured the other direction, her eyes sharp and her breath misting in the cool air.

Then her gaze caught something above them – a small surveillance camera, barely visible in the fog, only its steady red blinking light giving it away. Sky froze for a moment, her heartbeat quickening.

Ghost,” she whispered into the radio. “Camera.”

Ghost’s head turned to her immediately. His gaze followed hers, then he carefully moved forward. “Ignore it. Don’t stop.” His voice was calm, almost offhand, but Sky could hear the subtle urgency underneath.

She swallowed and forced herself to shake off the unpleasant feeling of being watched. Don’t stop. Ghost moved swiftly ahead, his form almost one with the fog, and Sky followed.

The red light of the camera blinked steadily as the two figures disappeared silently between the containers, swallowed once more by the fog.

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

[shotmrmiller]

those few first initial thrusts at the beginning, the ones where the guy gives that sigh of almost relief as his hands tighten around you, fingers dimpling your skin, eyes glued to where you two meet absolutely lost in the sauce makes my head spin because simon savors nothing. not the smokes he puffs down to the filter in less than a minute, the energy drinks he guzzles down more than he does water, not even the damn food. if he could just swallow it whole without risking death he would but you (and your pussy)???

like the guys sitting around a safe house waiting for dawn to break to exfil and they're just talking about what they miss about home the most. they all say generic stuff, miss their beds, pets, family, whatever so when it's simon's turn they all assume it's food because he's talking about a specific little burger joint that, in their opinion, sounds like a hovel, but no one's ever thought simon has sane taste but then when kyle asks him what does he like off the menu the most his eyebrows furrow and he looks almost repulsed.

because he is.

"the food's bloody terrible. couldn't make me eat there even if it was the last place on earth."

no, he explains, my bird makes up for it. best damn pussy he's ever ate.

[azulhood]

Jazz is wandering Gotham with Danny after their parents visited the city for a convention but left them behind in the excitement of one of their ghost traps going off on the other side of the country.

The hotel they were staying at kicked them out not caring if they had a place to stay or not, only caring that the source of money had left.

Jazz couldn't show how scared she actually was, not when Danny was looking at her with complete faith that she could somehow fix this.

How he managed to keep that faith after a day of jumping at shadows like they held enemies and vending machine food for lunch was a mystery.

She's tired, she's stressed, and she needs an adult.

Like an actual adult and not her much loved but very scatterbrained parents, Vlad did not count either.

Nightwing: *falls from great heights into nearby dumpster* ...ow.

Jazz: ...You'll do.

[starogeorgina]

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen x reader

Warnings: Swearing

1.05

You and Aegon stand side by side at the stables, watching as Ghost and Sunfyre fly together over the castle grounds; at times their bodies look joined together as they swirl in circles so closely, the gold and ivory blending together beautifully.

“Perhaps they can be our children.”

Aegon scoffs, “The queen wants a grandchild from your womb, not one with scales.”

Your wedding would be held in a week, and Alicent was nothing but persistent that you give Aegon an heir immediately, specifically a male heir, which terrifies you. What exactly would happen if you had a girl? It’s not as if you could choose what gender the babe would be. You didn’t like feeling this type of pressure, and neither did Aegon; he was becoming moody and drinking more than normal.

He observes your cream saddle being cleaned by a stable boy and groans. “How come you don’t need to attend your lessons today, but I do?”

“Because I got permission. Besides, you really need to practice High Valyrian.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “I know the basics.”

“Our dragons deserve better than basic.“

Sunfyre was the only breathing creature Aegon truly loved; being with his golden dragon was the only time he looked at peace, content even. Even the dragon keepers were mesmerised by how close their bond was.

“And it might be fun; we could speak in a room full of people without them knowing what we are saying.”

“Like badmouthing the guests at our own wedding?” He jests.

“Exactly,” you laugh.

You step up onto the gate so that you can look into the pen. You had always been interested in horses, but it was only recently that you were permitted to go out riding outside the castle walls with a member of the king's guard accompanying you. Your grip suddenly tightens on the gate when you feel it start to move.

Aegon laughs; he was shaking the gate. “Don’t tell me you got a fright.”

“I didn't,” you notice the staff in the stables glancing over. “Aegon behave."

“I have been thus far,” he grins.

“Prince Aegon,” Ser Criston makes his presence known. “Best be going before you’re late to your lessons.”

Letting go of the gate, Aegon mumbles something under his breath, then sulks as he walks away. Ser Criston raises his brows, and you jump off the gate. The knight tries to keep his face straight, but it’s clear he found it funny when a small smile creeps onto his face.

The knight places his arms behind his back. “Time to go, princess.”

—

“Is something wrong, princess?”

“No…”

Usually you enjoy horseback riding, but something Aegon said stuck inside your head and was distracting you. It hadn’t taken long to reach the grounds where tourneys were held; you were surprised to see decorations in preparation for a large celebration had already begun. You watch as three young men struggle to move a large sculpture that’s in the shape of a house Targaryen symbol.

Ser Criston moves so he is in your line of view. “Princess, is it your betrothal that’s troubling you?”

“No, Aegon has been... well, Aegon.”

“You’ve been unusually quiet lately,” he says softly.

“Has it ever occurred to you, Ser Criston, that if a girl is young enough that she needs permission to leave her lessons, that she’s too young to be a bare child? Because it has to me.”

He sighs, “To the left, I wish to show you something.”

“What is it?”

He doesn’t reply. You watch for a few seconds as his dark horse takes him further towards the forest. When the knight and his horse become much smaller than your own, you decide it’s time to start following him.

—

“Just like this?”

“Bend your elbow a little lower.”

A wide smile spreads across your face when the stone you toss towards the lake skims over the water instead of sinking. Instead of going the normal route, the knight took you down to a small lake you'd never known existed. It was a warm day, but the light breeze was enough to keep you comfortable.

When you first saw the knight tethering smooth stones, you doubted this would be enjoyable, but you were wrong. “I must admit this is rather fun.”

“My father taught me to skim stones when I was a boy.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes, my mother died when I was young, and it was just the two of us until I became a foot soldier.” He fidgets with the stone in his hand before skimming it over the water. “It can be difficult with fathers; I’ve seen many men regret how they’ve treated their children once they've grown old.”

“I doubt King Viserys will lose much sleep over it. We haven’t spoken since Driftmark.”

There’s a rustle in the bushes close by, but when you look over, a baby deer appears. Its dark doe eyes stare at you until a larger deer comes up behind it, probably its mother. The two of them scurry off quickly to find isolation away from humans.

“I wasn’t at court long before Queen Aemma died, but from what I remember she had a soft face, and she was known to be kind.”

“I’m scared I’ll end up like her,” you admit. “I could fall pregnant quickly after marrying Aegon and die in the birthing bed within the year like she did.”

Ser Criston picks up another stone to throw. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe Prince Aegon would make the same decision King Viserys did.”

—

You storm into the king's royal apartments, anger radiating through you so violently that your body shakes. King Viserys notices you and smiles, “Ahh, there’s my daughter.”

“Is it true?”

Otto Hightower and the maester share a look. Your father turns and nods at them, and they both hurry to leave, the few servants in the room doing the same.

Your father looks defeated already. “Is that true?”

“How my mother died. You said it was my fault, but it wasn’t.”

“Do not test me, daughter,” he says harshly. “I will not have my late wife’s name brought up in some childish way.“

You couldn't contain your tears as you struggled to speak. “How could you do this to me?” You choke out between sobs. “Both you and Rhaenyra let me believe my mother died giving birth to me, but she didn’t. She gave birth to me naturally, and then Baelon got stuck, and you chose to let the maesters cut her open so you could have a son.”

“Who told you this?”

Ser Criston was the only one who told you the truth—the whole truth—that queen Aemma was butchered while conscious. You weren’t going to get the knight into trouble by admitting it was him.

“Is that all you care about? What do other people think? What about me?” You may have sounded selfish, but he needed to know what this guilt has done to you. “I’ve blamed myself; I thought I killed her, and not once did you tell me otherwise.”

When he says nothing, you shake your head and go to leave, but hesitantly, the king calls after you. “Rhaenyra never knew; I didn’t want her knowing the truth.”

Your heart hammers in your chest. Learning that he cared more about what your sister thought than you was nothing new.

“Your mother used to laugh because the moment it was announced she was with a child, Rhaenyra declared that she was to have a sister; she wanted to name you Visenya, but Aemma disagreed. They went back and forth many times.”

“I’ve always loved my sister, and yet she’s always looked at me and saw the monster that took her mother from her.”

“No, that’s not true,” his eyes start to glisten. “If Aemma had lived, she would have doted on you; she would have cherished and loved you.”

“Perhaps you would have as well, if she had lived.”

—

Curled up in your bed clutching onto one of your pillows, you continue to sob and only open your eyes when there’s a knock at your door. A few seconds later, it’s opened by your lady-in-waiting, who was sitting with you previously.

“Who is it, Flora?”

“Prince Aegon.”

You think about moving but decide it’s too much energy and remain in the same position. You weren’t upset anymore; all of your sadness had turned to anger hours ago, but you had nowhere for that feeling to go.

Flora lets him in, and soon Aegon spots you. He rolls his eyes and sighs, “I could hear you crying from down the hall.”

You say nothing. Aegon comes over and sits somewhat awkwardly next to you on the bed, lifting the pillow your head is resting on and placing it onto his lap. When he feels you relax into his touch, Aegon starts gently brushing your hair with his fingers, which, in contrast to his wild, unkempt hair, was soft and smooth.

After a few moments, you finally speak, “My septa told me true strength lies in silence.”

“The blood of the dragon runs deep, and I fear it is a burden to feel things so deeply.”

Intrigued, you tilt your head to face him. “Do you feel things deeply?”

“No, but I don’t like seeing you distressed. It reminds me of when Sunfyre hurt his wing.”

“Oh.”

He makes a tsk sound, “Viserys is a fool.”

“He is the king.”

“And the king is a cunt. There are no victors for those who want his approval or attention.” Aegon leans down till his lips are ghosting your ear, “The way to stop hurting is by not letting anyone in.”

“That sounds awfully lonely.”

He shrugs, sitting upright and straightening his shoulders. Perhaps Aegon was right, but you liked the thought that one day he would let you in.

[s3rrrpentine]

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[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt: Wind can see ghosts and the ability never turns off

And he got used to the spirits of the group and made friends with them

Like to the point he is capable of following both the Conversations of the spirits and the chain with little to no problem

And fierce deity just keeps giving him tons of blackmail material for time and wars because it is petty and wants time to suffer

Mipha and the other spirits keep telling him of Wild blowing himself up

And shadow just comes up with insults for everyone that don’t feel like insults if you don’t know what wind is actually saying

Marin keeps adding more and more Legend fluff to the pile like how he likes getting hugged and how gentle he is when he isn’t pretending to be a bastard

And Legend's uncle keeps telling childhood stories about him

And fi keeps accidentally insulting sky's intelligence by telling everyone about his adventure

Wind basically can blackmail everyone in the chain with minimal effort

And twilight who can sense ghosts as a wolf feels sorry for wind because he at least can stop seeing and hearing ghosts

And he also really hates sensing them because he doesn’t want to involve himself with the unnatural

Because while wind can actually interact with ghosts

He can only sense them and if the ghost is vengeful then he can’t do anything (inspired by the fact that the ghosts in twilight princess never seemed to truly notice him)

So he is following the rules of

If you look at the abyss then the abyss might notice you and look back

While wind follows the rules of

I can’t stop looking at the abyss so it just got used to me and doesn’t throw something sharp at me

[carpenterswife]

ALL MY GHOSTS; series masterlist

PAIRING: Beau Arlen x Fem Reader

SERIES SUMMARY: You’re a deputy working for the Lewis and Clark County Sheriff’s Department in Helena; a good one at that. Since Beau’s arrival, you befriended the Texan, who eventually became the town’s new permanent sheriff. With a growing friendship, blooming feelings, a ton of inside jokes, and way too much fun on the job, it seems like everything is going right for you. But, you’re running from your past, and it seems to be catching up fast.

SERIES WARNINGS: 18+ only, murder, abduction, domestic abuse, stalking, obsessive behaviour, violence, trauma, dark content, angst, age gap relationship, abortion, alcoholism, smut.

WORD COUNT [SO FAR]: 22,696

CHAPTERS . . .

PART I.

PART II.

PART III.

PART IV.

PART V.

PART VI.

PART VII.

PART VIII.

PART IX.

banners in use by @cafekitsune

[toshidou]

don't mind me, i'll just be sat here crying into my hands about girl dad!simon "ghost" riley who would do absolutely anything for his daughters.

girl dad!simon who watches with a fond smile as his children fail to mask their giggles from underneath the sofa, their little legs sticking out very obviously from their "hiding place" but acting as though they're nowhere to be found.

girl dad!simon who lets them apply the black smudging around his eyes, praising them with how gentle they're being, and only huffing out a laugh when he feels his youngest smear charcoal fingerprints down his cheeks.

girl dad!simon who always has time to play with his girls, going along with whatever game their imaginative minds conjure with not a single complaint. over the years, you've walking in on simon as a horse, a robot, a fairy godmother (you will never get the imagine of simon with one of your elasticated waist dresses on out of your head, the material fighting for its life to stay in one piece as simon merely stares at you, silently pleading you to not take any photos), there is nothing he won't do to make them happy.

girl dad!simon who never once hesitates to scoop them into his arms at the first sign of tears, battled scared and inked hands holding his daughter so carefully, though she was made of porcelain, rough fingers gently swiping across ruddy cheeks, "you're okay, sweetpea, it's just a little scrape, yeah? my brave girl can handle a tiny scratch like that no problem, ain't that right?"

girl dad!simon who has a photo of you and your daughters tucked safely in his pocket at all times, all his favourite people on one small piece of paper he keeps safe over his heart whenever he has to leave, making sure it never leaves his mind that 'this is who he's fighting for, this is who he's working so hard to get back to'

girl dad!simon who try as he might, always tears up when he finally arrives back, and hears his little worlds sprinting at him as fast as their stubby legs can carry them, screeching cries of "daddy, daddy, daddy's home!" echoing through the walls of his home, arms wide as he crouches on the floor and feels their small but mighty weight crash into him, finally whole, finally complete, watery eyes meeting yours where you lean against the wall, similarly emotional.

"welcome home, si."

finally, home.

[lefty-draws02]

window snuggles💞

i miss lumity so much🥲

[short666bread]

Backstory for this in which Harry is a tree that got struck by lightning and kept growing and Draco is a star that got scraped out of the sky

[skylovesducks]

Hello peeps 🫶 I am sorry for the lack of content! I am more active on other platforms. Especially Instagram. 🌼

But I'll show you some pics I took lately of sky and ghost after I found a lot of fun in 3d! 💛

[starry-bi-sky]

changeling danny has his wretched little claws in me so here's some AU fey lore

Okay so, i've got a lot of ideas for the Fey Lore in this au. But to start out what may become a sling of posts: a simplified set up of the Infinite Realms. I think I mentioned it before in a reblog of the original changeling danny post, but the fey wilds exist in the IR. In most fanon I see the same scale as the rest of the realms, however i have a different idea for it.

In simplified terms, the fey wilds and the ghost zone are two different things. They both exist in the Infinite Realms, however, they exist on different planes of existence. In simplified terms, there are three separate planes in the Infinite Realms.

The Long Far: Highest realm in the infinite realms. Home to most, if not all, the Ancients. Beings that reside in The Long Far are eldritch abominations, gods, personifications of concepts, and other celestial-type beings. The only way to access the Long Far is through the Starflare Currents in the Feywilds. Which are a nebula of stars that work similar to the ocean currents in Finding Nemo. They are a rapid vortex full of stars that pass over the feywilds that can be seen at night. In order to reach the Long Far, one must fly up to the Current and latch onto one of the stars rapidly flying past. And then they must stay on the star until the currents begin to ascend rapidly upwards. This is harder than it sounds. Ever been indoor surfing? Where you lie on your stomach on a small board and try not to get flung off? Exact same concept. It’s basically the world’s most terrifying escalator to the gods.

The Fey Wilds: The Fey Wilds isn't exactly strictly home to the Fey, however for convenience sake I'm calling it the Fey Wilds. This is the home to fey and other folklore and mythological creatures that may not want to reside in the Ghost Zone. There are no Fey in the GZ. It's not that they hate being down there, but. well.. they hate being down there. They think the place is ugly. The Fey Wilds has ever shifting, expanding amount of biomes. These biomes range from massive redwood forests, to swamps, to essentially Pandora from Avatar. The place can look almost entirely human one moment, and then like a different planet the next. Fey and other inhabitants know how to navigate this easily -- but ghosts? Not so much. There are currently two known ways to reach the Fey Wilds from the Ghost Zone and vice versa: Lake Portals, and Cave Tunnels. Which I will expand upon in a moment.

Ghost Zone: Exactly how it sounds! The Ghost Zone is, well, the ghost zone! It's essentially the same as canon. Same looks, same everything. This is the home of mortal souls and the occasional mythological creature or two, as well as weaker concept spirits. By that I mean like, ecto-octopi. Concept spirits can manifest in both the GZ and Feywilds. Ghosts tend to stick inside the Ghost Zone and avoid venturing into the Fey Wilds because, well, they're still mortal souls. They're gonna get jumped by a fey looking for a new decoration or a new pet/servant/whatever. Best to honestly avoid the fey wilds as a whole.

Now, I just mentioned that there were two known ways to reach the Fey Wilds from the Ghost Zone: lake portals and cave tunnels. I made goofy little visual aides which I will attach below, and then I will explain how they work.

I'll start with the Lake Portals. They are, well, as the name suggests lake portals. Not every lake in the fey wild is a portal to the ghost zone, and vice versa. They're rather uncommon to find in both planes, but it's not like they're hard to recognize.

In the Fey Wilds, lake portals will have a sheen over the water like an oil spill. But instead of the regular rainbow-y colors, it will instead have the ghost zone's colors swirling in it; green and purple. The water will have that sickly green tint to it, and have a slight glow. The plant life surrounding the water are not typically what you'd find in the Fey Wilds, but might in the Ghost Zone. They look different from the regular noxious swamp bogs in the wilds, so its easy to tell that they're lake portals.

In the Ghost Zone, the lake portals will instead be shimmery and blue like a tropical ocean. And just like how there are GZ plants in the fey wilds surrounding the water, there's fey wild plants on the island where the lake is.

How these portals work is rather simple. You dive in and begin swimming down. It's a long swim down, but that's all you gotta do. It will get dark, as there are no plant life in these portals, and no aquatic life either.

It starts getting complicated when you reach what I like to call the border. The border is as the name implies; its a border between the planes. In the lakes it's not physical, however you will feel when you've reached the border and crossed it. Intense vertigo washes over you as your sense of gravity begins to shift and flip; up is becoming down, down is becoming up.

Your goal at this point is to try and push through that vertigo and discomfort and make it to the other side of the border, without getting flipped upside down and swimming back to the surface you came from. This is harder than it sounds as you become dizzy underwater, and since there's no light anywhere, you will try and instinctively seek it out and follow it. You're down too deep to know where that light is.

Once you've reached the other end of the border successfully, your gravity will have flipped without you needing to do anything. You are now swimming up to the surface, and once you do, boom! You're in the ghost zone! Lake Portals are faster to use than tunnels, but very disorientating.

Now cave tunnels are longer, but simpler. Essentially some caves have tunnels that lead into the ghost zone, similar to how in greek mythology there are random entrances to the underworld in the mortal world. I haven't exactly figured out what the tell is for when you're in a tunnel leading to the Ghost Zone, but I know that when it's the other way around it's rather easy -- as you start to climb up.

It's a less complicated explanation: essentially you are descending into the ghost zone through this tunnel. You are on your way down like Orpheus in search of his wife, or like Heracles doing his twelve labors. It can get claustrophobic and of course there is the border.

Unlike experiencing a shift in gravity, you're instead hit with the intense vertigo and an intrinsic fear to turn around. It's an instinctual response to your surroundings changing on a molecular level, and your body in response is telling you to Flee. Basically, you've taken a rip of the Cave Gasses and you feel like you're losing your mind. Once you exit the border its smooth sailing.

Sometimes you get unlucky and there's a Pit Drop and you're suddenly Alice in Wonderlanding your way down to the Ghost Zone. But hey! At least you're not swimming.

those are currently the only two ways i've come up with for traveling between the GZ and Fey Wilds. But all in all, it's meant to be very disorientating stuff; vertigo and nausea-inducing, with just a dash of Existentially Terrifying. Traveling between planes usually is.

[faithblob-says-things]

Dp x Dc prompt 2

Danny gets punted into the Dc universe somehow and loses his memories along the way. Team Phantom and maybe some of his rouge gallery are currently scrambling to find him.

Meanwhile Ma and Pa Kent are very happy to have another son that fell from the sky.

[ink-and-dagger]

54 for some possessive terzo maybe? There's way too much good stuff on that list it's hard to choose

Will you take some soft possessive Terzo? I sure hope so cuz that’s what I’ve written

Papa Emeritus iii x Reader || Smut drabble || Soft possessive Terzo || Wedding night || Love-making || NSFW || MDNI

There are flowers on the floor.

An abandoned bouquet of midnight calla lilies and black satin dahlias, strung together with velvet ribbon.

And there are fine clothes too; embroidered silks in colours so rarely seen around the Ministry. New shoes, worn only once. Papal robes and ceremonial pomp. All of it strewn upon the ground like a trail of crumbs in a fairytale forest, leading not to some gingerbread cottage but to a canopied bed, adorned with gossamer curtains and dark satin throws, and two lovers tangled upon it.

You and Terzo move together like warm ocean waves lapping up sunsoaked sands. No rush, only leisure and bliss. Hands graze over shifting muscles, and soft, pleasure-filled sighs fill the space between stolen kisses. He’s pressed so close that you can feel his heart beating through his chest and straight into yours. It feels apt, today of all days.

“Mio cuore,” Terzo whispers, his breathless words collecting upon your skin as his mouth roves blindly over your cheeks, your lips, your throat, “Sei il mio cuore. Il mio tutto – senza di te morirei. Ti amo. Ti amo tanto. Tanto molto—”

His words melt into a ragged moan as he grinds himself deeper inside your heat. And you too gasp out his name, nails digging pink crescents into his back, and your legs hitching higher around his waist.

He pulls back only far enough to gaze down at you. A  warm, broad palm rises to cup your jaw, thumb sweeping to brush away the single, rapturous tear which clings to your lower lashes.

“Say it again,” he begs, like he hasn’t already spent the entire day at your ear any chance he got, quietly requesting to hear you repeat the two words since you first spoke them in the chapel.

“I do,” you breathe, “I do.”

Your hips roll to meet each of his quickening thrusts. His sudden intensity knocking the air from your lungs until all you can do is gape hopelessly up at him; gaze wide and imploring, swollen lips parted in silent plea.

“Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?” He growls, dual-eyes dazzling with the sheer breadth of emotion contained within them, “Only me– O-only me—”

“Only you, Terzo,” you agree, cupping the back of his night-dark head, guiding his brow down to rest against yours, “Only my husband.”

His lips crash against yours, and you lose yourself to him completely.

Bare palms slide over your shoulders, up your arms to lace his fingers together with yours, and press your joined hands into the blankets over your head.

The moon smiles down upon you both, blessing your Union with her silver touch. It filters through the bedroom window and illuminates you both in a pool of ethereal light, and sets the matching bands on your fingers glittering.

Mio cuore. Sei il mio cuore. Il mio tutto – senza di te morirei. Ti amo. Ti amo tanto. Tanto molto. My heart. You are my heart. My everything - without you I would die. I love you. I love you so much. So much.

[starogeorgina]

𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen × reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence

1.04

Your heart was still racing from witnessing Alicent slap Aegon across the face. The paleness of the skin on his cheek was now red and slightly swollen. Your heart bled for him; he was drunk and confused. Nothing that had transpired within the past few hours was his fault.

The queen’s handmaiden, Talya, had subtly moved you and Helaena further back from everyone else in the room as more people arrived.

The knight who escorted you to the great hall in Driftmark only said there was an incident; he never let on who was involved or what happened. Your younger brother, Aemond, had bonded with Vhagar, the queen of all dragons. Upsetting the late Lady Laena’s daughters Baela and Rhaena, which somehow resulted in an altercation involving the two girls, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

As a result of whatever transpired, Aemond lost his eye, and Lucerys was being blamed. Luke was a sweet child; you doubted any act of violence was unprompted, but then Aemond didn’t deserve the pain he was suffering.

You tilt your head closer to Helaena, who was almost the same height as you. “If ābri sia taught bona ziry iksos daor possible naejot laodigon iā zaldrīzes, bisa could emagon issare avoided.” (If ladies were taught that it's not possible to steal a dragon, this could have been avoided.)

“Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” (What do you mean?)

“If Vhagar didn't jaelagon naejot sagon ridden ondoso īlva lēkia, ziry would emagon zaltan iā iprattan zirȳla.” (If Vhagar didn't wish to be ridden by our brother, she would have burned or ate him.)

“He had to close an eye.”

You examine your nephews from afar; you wanted to comfort them but would not cross the room to stand with Rhaenyra. Your heart clenches. You felt torn and stayed standing in the middle of the room, not wanting to pick a side. Part of you felt ashamed, not rushing to Jace and Luke’s defence, but each time your mouth would form the shape of words, Talya would give you a look that would then silence you.

You notice Aegon’s hand trembling as Maester Mellos tends to the wound on Aemond’s face that stretches from his cheekbone to his forehead.

“Bro-”

It was hard to hear with various voices yelling their version of events, yet it was your oldest nephew's whisper that was heard by all. “He called us bastards.”

A look appears in Rhaenyra’s eyes that you’ve never seen before: fear. She claps hold of Jacaerys hand. “My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

“Over an insult?” Alicent’s eyes gloss over. “My son has lost an eye.”

“You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?” The king's cain thumps against the floor as he storms towards Aemond, “Tell me who spoke these lies so I can cut their tongue from their mouth.”

You catch Aegon’s eye, and he slowly shakes his head. He may have called Rhaenyra a whore and her sons bastards in front of you, but you believed from the look on his face that he never said it to anyone else.

“Aemond!” Your father slams his stick into the ground. “I am your king, and I demand you tell me at once!”

Aemond glances up at his mother, who is standing beside him Alicent gives him a pleading look. Gulping down, Aemond looks directly at his older brother, putting the blame on him. Quietly he mumbles, “It was Aegon.”

Aegon looks hurt, “me?”

Your father has a murderous glare in his eyes as he goes towards Aegon. “And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon!” Frustrated, he yells in his face. “Tell me the truth of it!”

“The insult was first said in the training yard, your grace. I’ve heard different lords sons saying it.” You weren’t lying; of course it was obvious to everyone aside from the king himself that the ‘rumours’ originally came from the queen herself. “Those boys who are the ones that should be sharply questioned, not your own sons.”

“You, girl,” the king now stands directly in front of you, his rotten-smelling breath warm in your face. “You should be standing beside Rhaenyra, your sister, my heir. Aemma would be ashamed of you.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Even the king's own brother, Prince Daemon, looks stunned by his brothers harsh words. You take a deep breath when your lips start to tremble. The blood of the dragon does not weep. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep his words had cut.

Alicent places her hand on top of the pendant, her fingers tracing the seven-pointed star, the symbol of her faith. She gasps, “Viserys.”

Aegon steps forward and looks directly at your nephews and sister. “We know, Father. Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

—

“I’m glad you left when you did, Princess, before the violence started. The maester who stitched Princess Rhaenyra's wound said it would heal.”

Knowing you were humiliated by your father's words, the queen ordered Ser Criston to escort you back to the bedchambers you were staying in, and during that time a struggle broke out between Alicent and Rhaenyra. Alicent tried to cut Lucerys eye out with the king's own dagger as an act of revenge, and Rhaenyra put herself between her son and the blade. Although Alicent’s actions were wrong, you blamed your father for not taking Aemond’s injury seriously in the first place.

“Thank you, Flora,” you say, stepping away from your handmaiden as she finished unclasping your hair from the braids you slept in. “I do not wish to speak of what happened anymore.”

“Very well, princess. Which dress would you like to wear while returning home?”

“The ivory dress.”

Nodding, she picks up the soft material with scale-like patterns embroidered into it and helps you step into the dress before fastening it at the back. “May I ask you something, princess?”

You look at Flora over your shoulder and say, “Yes.”

“Forgive me if this is out of turn, but what do you think will happen now? Will you remain in the keep, or do you think the king will force you to go Dragonstone?”

“I—” taking a shuddering breath, you stare at the tapestry hanging above the fireplace of a ship sailing through a storm. “I am unsure. I’m presuming the king will act fast to find me another husband. Preferably one far enough away that he will not need to see me again.”

Flora finishes lacing the dress and steps back to admire it. She wasn’t much older than yourself and seemed just as lonely as you did at court. “If you do go somewhere else, I hope the king allows me to serve you there.”

Her kind words push the tears that were already threatening to spill from your eyes out. How was it possible your handmaiden would want to be near you when your own father could not? You reach for Flora’s hand, and she says nothing as you sob.

—

While most of the royal party go aboard the ship near ready to set sail for the red keep, you look up at the rocks behind you and see Sunfyre resting his head next to Aegon, who lovingly caresses his golden scales. The only time you saw a true smile on your brother's face was when he was with his dragon.

“Would you like to touch him?”

“What?”

“Would you like to touch him?” Aegon’s asks, and he turns his head in your direction with a hopeful look on his face. “He won’t bite you in half.”

It was always a risk approaching a dragon that wasn’t your own. Most dragons had handlers beside their riders, and you doubted Aegon would risk your life. As you walk over to them, Ghost tilts their head to the side, observing you, and makes an almost purring sound, “Ao sagon iēdrosa ñuha favorite.” (You're still my favorite.)

When you reach them Aegon sees you hesitate and grabs your hand, pulling you closer, then places your hand on top of Sunfyre’s scales.

“He is truly beautiful.”

“The most beautiful in the world,” Aegon says proudly. “My golden boy.”

You remove your hand from the dragon's scales, and Sunfyre nudges Aegon in the chest with his snout. It was amusing to watch them be so playful together.

Sighing, you glance down at the ship, and your eyes land directly on your father. “I’m not looking forward to the journey home.”

“I’m not going with them.”

“No? Have you found another family to join instead?”

“The gods aren’t kind enough to grant me another family,” he tuts. “I’m flying on dragon back. Care to join me?”

Now that he suggested it, you wanted nothing more. “Let’s go then; even better, let’s make it a race!”

—

Dinner was awkward; it was mainly in silence. Your father had spoken a few times but not once had you, the queen, or any of your siblings responded. The mood was much lighter until he suddenly appeared.

Though you had worn the pale gold dress Alicent gifted you, the material wasn’t as thick as your other gowns. Feel a slight chill as you straighten your legs out and rub your ankles together, trying to get some heat.

“Are you cold?” Aegon asks, in a low voice.

You open your mouth to reply, but noticing your father looking in your direction, you say nothing and nod in response to Aegon’s question.

When the table is cleared, Helaena speaks up, “Can I return to my chambers?”

“No yet,” Alicent smiles at her before looking to her father. Otto mouths something you cannot hear. Clearing her throat, the queen stands up and holds up her cup. “The last few days have been difficult, but we now have something to celebrate. A betrothal between Prince Aegon and princess y/n has been purposed, and both myself and the king are in agreement that it would be a perfect match.”

The rest of her words disappear as everything becomes a blur. Was this real? Both Aemond and Helaena seem pleased for you, but when you turn to look at Aegon, he’s gone.

—

You find you’re betrothed in the cellars of the keep, standing in front of the skull of Balerion, the black dread. You always wondered if the largest and most fierce dragon that ever lived, that was once ridden by Aegon the Conqueror himself, dying not long after your father bonded with him, could be considered a bad omen.

In the glow of the flames, Aegon looks breathtaking—a true Targaryen.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. I come here sometimes to find comfort.”

Aegon continues to stare straight ahead as he asks, “Do you want to marry me?”

Under different circumstances, you would have laughed because what a woman wanted in a society ruled by men didn’t matter. You gulp down, “I’ve always accepted that I’ll most likely die in the birthing bed as my mother did. Death by duty. And when I was betrothed to Ser Harwin, I assumed that my fate would be giving him heirs until I no longer could. But now it’s different.”

Aegon’s eyes are clouded with uncertainty when he finally looks at you. “How?”

“I think a life with you would be worth the risk.”