#between crime lords

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi new fan here!!! i made tumblr as soon as i knew that you also write prompts here and i finished reading it all in one sit🤣

I am loving this mob rival bosses prompt, it is so sexy. I liked the plot of the last one you posted, so i have a little idea with me that maybe you could write.

What about them going in some event or party with different dates? Gil with the heiress and Thena with someone idk who, Kro??🤮 This time they're trying to make a way to be together. They came to the party with different dates, but they are leaving having each other as dates.

I'd really like to see them glancing at each other in the midst of the crowd, having a hard time escaping their dates. And can you add some little jealousy and drama, i really find it cute when they're making each other jealous but still reassures that their hearts belongs to one another.

Thank you! please don't stop writing about these two🙏🙏🙏 i am living for them.

He walked in with a scowl on his face and the little heiress on his arm.

It was a private party--a gathering for people 'in the business' to have some fun and make some connections. This year the reinforcement specialists were handling it. The mobsters in Little Italy, the private security sectors, the yakuza, and of course, the group who all-but-owned Koreatown.

Gil looked bored. He felt bored. He half listened as the little heiress chattered next to him, telling him about what strides her family had been making back home in Korea. The subject of him going back kept coming up, only furthering his feeling of being trapped at a family gathering and being set up with someone his family had picked for him.

She entered with Kro, the Prince Eternal's replacement, in a sense.

Kro had been selected by Ajak's right hand to try and rebuild the business they were all lacking since the little prince had gone back to his asteroid. As annoying at the little prick was, he'd had endless wealth to his name, and they all had businesses to run.

Thena looked stunning, as always. She walked down the stairs with him, her hand in his in a display of courtesy. Her dress was white, even longer than usual, with a cape draping over her back. Because looking - let alone touching - the Ice Queen was not free.

"She's pretty."

Gil nodded, only so the little heiress wouldn't feel blatantly ignored. It was one hell of an understatement, though. Thena was a specimen of beauty able to outshine any of the silly little jewels she owned. They were on her fingers, they sat around her neck, they clipped her hair behind her ear and shimmered in all the right spots on her dress.

But they were just decorations. And he'd never been able to see the smaller details when he was looking at a masterpiece.

Thena knew where he was, and made a concentrated effort not to look. It was almost strenuous as she walked by him. The most use Kro had been to her as of yet was blocking the view of Gil and his date on the left side of them as he guided her into the ballroom.

"Are you thirsty?"

Her mouth was dry as a desert and she was in desperate need of some fresh air. "Chilled sparkling."

Kro wasn't great company, but he did listen...somewhat.

She stood out like a white rose among red. Her hair rested on her shoulders, and Gil felt the ever-present desire to pull that lace into his hand from around her shoulders. His memory knew the feeling of winding it around his hands at the ends and using it to pull her closer to him.

Her lips were red, but he missed the cute, pale pink they usually were.

"I'm gonna get a drink," he murmured, interrupting his date in the middle of yet another suggestion they buy out a chain of hotels in Seoul for 'business'.

He didn't ask if she wanted anything. He was going to get a reputation of being a terrible date this way, but he didn't particularly care. He was the Tyrant King, after all. And only one woman in the world could handle him.

Only one had permission, and she was the only one he wanted.

"Ice."

"Tyrant," she greeted, keeping her voice low and still not looking at him. They seemed to be acknowledging each other in passing.

"You look stunning."

"So I've been told," she purred, because she liked seeing him flustered. She liked seeing him jealous.

"Oh, have you?"

"Are you surprised?"

"'Course not," he chuckled, fidgeting with his cuff-links. They were melted down from silver fillings--mementos from some of his career milestones. Distasteful?--maybe. Hilarious?--to him, yes. "But did they mean it?"

"I assume so," Thena raised an eyebrow as he leaned just a little closer.

"Do they really know?" he whispered, looking down at her shoulder under her lace and knowing she had just a hint of perfume clinging to her skin. God, he wanted his lips on that line of her collar bone. "Just how beautiful you are?"

"Gil." She was warning him this early on into the night? Thena glanced up at him, the first instance of it since she'd arrived. "We are here for a reason."

They were here with other people for a reason, she meant. They both had business to conduct, and whatever they were would just have to wait.

Gil had other ideas. "I'm just saying."

Thena used all her practised poise to cover up the shiver in her spine as he brought her hand up to his lips. She glared at him--he was playing too dangerously.

"You look good enough to eat."

An increasingly familiar flush in her cheeks--faint and delicate, but there. It was impossible not to see, when she was as pale as snow. She snatched her hand away from him and drew her lace tighter around her. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Gil let her go. They were colleagues exchanging pleasantries at a party. He retrieved a scotch for himself. He did not watch the way Kro's hand touched Thena's back. Even with the cape of her dress separating her skin from his, Gil tossed back his drink and asked for another.

"Let's dance!"

Well, he couldn't be a completely cardboard date. He could at least dance with the little heiress.

Thena's eyes watched as Gil led her to the floor, his hand lazily held open for the little heiress'. He wasn't exactly a graced dancer, but he could sway and move his feet to the rhythm of the band playing. He looked around the room. Thena darted her eyes away.

Kro led her to the floor, one hand around hers, the other on her back. This was exactly why she'd had the cape added by her tailor. She was a queen, of course - the one and only Ice Queen - and it was fitting for her to have a cape. And no one had any right to her skin but one.

And he was holding the little heiress.

Thena and Gil traded glares as they spun around each other. They were both playing dirty. The heiress stumbled in her insanely tall heels and landed against his chest. His hand steadied her at her waist. Thena debated killing the girl right here and now.

Gil met her eyes over the little heiress' head and smiled, offering an apologetic shrug.

Thena scoffed, focusing her eyes elsewhere. She didn't know why he was bothering; he didn't owe her any explanations or apologies. They were here to do business, she had said it herself.

"You seem distracted."

Right. Kro. Thena frowned as his hand tightened around hers. She was wearing satin gloves, and even then, she could feel how cold his hands were. She was used to being the cold one; did he have any circulation at all?

"Would you say you're able to relax in a room this dangerous?"

It was a sensible enough reply, and it made it seem as if she were paying attention, and not possessed with following the Tyrant King around the room with her eyes.

"I suppose not," Kro conceded, his breath hitting the top of her head. He was too tall--almost frighteningly tall. Every time she had to look up at him her neck clicked. "But you are here with me, are you not?"

Thena scowled as his hand tightened again. "Watch yourself, Substitute."

"Because you're watching someone else?" he growled back, tightening his grip again, now just holding her wrist in quite an ungentlemanly way. He looked down at her with cold eyes. "I did not accompany you here so I could watch you eye-fuck someone else."

Thena didn't dignify his accusations, or his grip. She halted her steps, meeting his eyes evenly. "You accompanied me here because someone else purchased your company and time. You are no investment of mine."

"And the Ice Queen only makes the best investments, is that it?"

"Precisely," she held her ground, glaring up at him as her hand travelled to the seam of her dress, pulling it up her thigh slowly. "And I do not waste my time on those unworthy of it."

"Stuck up c-"

Thena held her knife at his throat, letting the tip poke into his skin. She made no attempts to be discreet or subtle about it, holding it at arm's length and away from her. "Reconsider your words."

It was no longer advice. It was an order.

Kro held his hands up to her. He knew to value his life. "I apologise, Ice Queen."

She drew the knife back but flicked her wrist. "Out--I'm done with you."

He obeyed, still not up to the task of risking his life just to get in the last word. He nodded, accepting his defeat.

Gil moved quickly, catching his arm before he escaped off the dance floor and into the crowd completely. He looked him in the eye. "Scared of her?"

Kro ran his eyes over the Tyrant King. "No-"

"You should be," Gil corrected him with a snarl. "And whatever part of you she doesn't finish off, I will. So I suggest you stick to business and skip the mingling."

It was way too transparent of him to say. Thena was going to be furious with him. But he didn't care. He wanted to see the look on Kro's face as he came to realise that the Ice Queen was not available.

She would argue that it didn't mean she was his, but he was fine with that. So long as no one else thought she could be theirs either.

Gil let him storm out of the room with the few remains of his dignity. He straightened his own suit jacket, looking around him. The little heiress had run off.

"You have misplaced your date, Tyrant."

"She has her own drivers and security," he shrugged, entirely too nonchalant about his date running out on him.

"What a heartless king, you are," Thena teased as he settled beside her. She let her lace slip off her shoulders to sit around her elbows and billow down to her knees.

"Well, I only have one queen," he whispered close to her, his breath clouding the diamonds cuffing around the ridge of her ear. He held out his hand. "Dance with me?"

Thena looked around as she slipped her hand into his. It was far too intimate to look at him as she slipped off her gloves to do it. "I do seem to be in need of a partner."

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Dick Grayson has to juggle being in the spotlight again as Brucie Wayne’s son with his nightly vigilante activities. Easier said than done, when most days he has to struggle keeping his eyes open during the day.

But now? After Brucie’s most recent investing campaign that’s pissing a lot of people off? Yeah, Dick Grayson is once more in the top ten of most wanted on the both kidnappers’ and killers’ lists.

Thankfully there’s a new crime lord in town with a penchant for altruism.

And honestly, this is gonna benefit them both! Dick’s got the money to pay him and Hood’s got the manpower and brute strength to act as his bodyguard, not to mention the added benefit of helping the man turn Crime Alley into something… well, something with less crime! It’s a perfect plan!

Now Dick’s just gotta convince the Red Hood of that, too…

[fellomen]

serosh acting as a dampener for ALL of godfrey's feelings, not just his rage and lust for battle. being somewhat comparable to the physicks that omenkillers use to numb their emotions

you spare him after he enters phase two and he's just left at the foot of the erdtree like

[sadlynotthevoid]

It's sad that most fics with the Accidental Vigilantism tag are only BNHA fics.

Like, I want to see Jason "I don't know what being normal is" Todd go around doing lowkey and not so lowkey hero/vigilant stuff while thinking he's just being a good neighbour.

Maybe when he was a kid a neighbour helped him or saved him and went like "we're all from the Alley, we have to help ourselves. That's what neighbours are for" and he ran with it. And maybe Bruce did told him not to use Robin movements because he's Bruce Wayne's son and that's sus, but he took it too literary. Like, "helping is okay as long as I don't act like Robin" and later on he keeps with this.

Except now he's not Jason Todd-Wayne anymore, he's just Jason Todd from the next door. It's not strange if he can fight a bit, right? (He doesn't have idea what a bit is like).

More than once he ends up taking down a hideaway of a traffic ring as himself and doesn't think twice of it. He just saw someone being dragged into a van so he followed them. By feet? Why yes, he runs in his free time. Why didn't he call the police? This is Crime Alley, in Gotham. What police? How did he deal with all those guys by himself? Muscles and Home Alone shenanigans.

His vigilant identity is only safe because people either believe he doesn't have one or he's other cape. There're bets going on about which one he is.

Once, he's at college when an enormous sculpture starts falling down almost crushing a bunch of students. Almost. A moment Jason is there, talking with his friends, the next he's holding the thing from reaching the floor by its legs. What? He's a big guy and works out a lot.

Tall, dark hair, bright blue-ish eyes and Strong? That day 'Superman' is added to the list.

[fa-dubu]

even if vertin finds the truth behind the storm and reverses its reversal so that the people who were sifted out return and the timeline stabilizes, there's still 7 decades between her and schneider. long, long distance relationship

[dukeofthomas]

My understanding of Jason Todd's age;

Jason dies when he's 15, 4 months before his 16th birthday. He is dead for any number of time; it doesn't count towards his age.

He's resurrected; he is in a coma for 1 year, then catatonic for another. He is then put into a Lazarus Pit. (These 2 years are practically useless, as he doesn't remember them and they contribute very little to the story. They could be condensed to 2 months and it would change basically nothing.)

He trains for about a year. You can then give him 1-12 months of prep and planning time before his debut as the Red Hood, and the story of UT(R)H, at which point he would be mentally 16-17, physically 18-19, and it would be (--) years after his birth.

[art-from-within]

Can i be real with you guys? Irdgaf abt that mohg discourse lol

[smouldring]

the mutual larp brainrot that those girls had. and then they killed god.

[secretidentie]

When Jason starts building his crime lord career, people start inexplicably comparing him to Matches Malone. They have the same mannerisms, the same fighting styles and a similar build. Some rogues even have theories that they're the same guy.

So when ever Matches is mentioned, red hood mutters "fuck that guy" under his breath and since Bruce puts his whole batussy into his personas, he's starts reciprocating that energy. All the rogues are scrambling to find out what happened to cause this beef. The entire Gotham underground now has to pick a side between one of their own who they've worked with and gotten to know over the years versus the new up and coming crime lord that's offering jobs and improving their lives. While Jason is wondering what he can do to stop being compared to Bruce, Bruce is trying to be a supportive parent (which means making sure the rogues don't turn on J) while protecting his persona he's been curating for years.

[longlive2023]

Derek double crossed mutter????

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick

Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.

Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:

Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.

And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.

Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.

Why do you deserve this scholarship? “My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”

Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.

There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.

~~~~~~

Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.

The local birds:

~~~~~~

Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans. This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare. Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains. Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table. Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.

Jason: …So, what's now? Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords. Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than… Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see. Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet. Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.

~~~~~

Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule. The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.

Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.

Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?

Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.

~~~~~

Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.

Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.

Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.

Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me. Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.

Red Hood: And why? Danny: It’s hard to explain… Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me. Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you. Jason: ..So what? Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you? Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses? Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.

Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go. Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.

~~~~~

Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman: Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission! Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls! Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me! Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base. Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.

~~~~~

Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here. Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us. Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..' Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure. Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that. Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.

Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job. Henchmen: scream

~~~~~

Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.

[harmoonix]

🪼⨍ꫀׁׅܻ᥎꫶ׁׅꫀׁׅܻꭈׁׅ ժׁׅ݊ꭈׁׅꫀׁׅܻɑׁׅ֮ ꩇׁׅ🪼

🕊 By Harmoonix 🕊

~ my heart goes la di da ~

───────────────────────────────────────

🪼 - Scorpio Risings/Scorpio Mars/Scoprio Sun are more possessive than the rest of Scoprio placements in my opinion,Scoprio Moon or Scoprio Venus will act more obsessed than posseisve

🪼 - Taurus Placements can focus on lot of finances and wealth, some things with gaining and getting from others (money)

🪼 - Where Neptune sits in your chart can indicate where you get addicted:

In the 7H, to your relationships

In your 10H, to your status, public image

In the 1H, becoming addicted to your appearance/the way you look

In the 2H, becoming addicted to money and finances

In the 3rd H, becoming addicted to communicating more, expressing yourself, addicted to creativity

In the 12H, becoming addicted to isolating yourself, hiding yourself from the world

🪼 - Mars in Virgo/6H or at 6° or 18° their charm is insane. Their body can stand out to these natives, beautiful mind and body is the definition for them

🪼 - Mars in Pisces and Sagittarius natives have irresistible charms since Jupiter rules both of these signs, the person is very liked with Mars in this position

🪼 - 12H Sun can have lots of Neptunian energy, therefore the Sun will act in "shadow", not seen so easy by others

🪼 - Lilith h12 in the 4H/9H and 12H have deep ancestral wounds, it can be generational pain as well

🪼- When you have Neptune/Venus or Sun/Jupiter in the 2H, you can become addicted to buying things that light up your mood and make you happy instead of simply buying them because you want them

🪼- Taurus/Libra or Pisces Risings/Moons are like a piece of art, ready to be set up in a museum

🪼- Capricorns can be night owls. If you don't know, the meaning of night owl is when a person is more productive at night instead of being productive during the day

🪼- When you have Neptune in the 1H/Neptune aspecting the ascendant, you can have doubts about yourself, like you can think youre not beautiful or that youre not liked because soemtimes Neptune makes illuions and fake scenarios about things that may actually not be real. You are very beautiful and sometimes you cannot see it

🪼- Uranus in the 7H can bring an awkward situation when you'll meet with your partner/spouse

🪼- Lilith in the 4H/10H can actually indicate being judged by the family or feeling like the black sheep. Especially from the father side of the family (Mother side can be too)

🪼 - Mars in the 8H i think is one of the most sensual houses to have Mars in. Everything is so sexual right there

🪼 - Taurus/Venus in the 3rd house gives you a very harmonious relationship with your siblings (in case you have)

🪼 - Lilith in Aquarius is the place where Lilith doesn't want to be like others and it can sound corny but she is just feeling different than the rest of the world

🪼 - Venus in Capricorn may actually need a lot patience in their relationship, you're waiting but for a reaosn, to find something better

🪼 - Sun in the 9H can be the person to change their spiritual or belief system a lot in their lives, they wanna try and experience different things

🪼 - Asteroid Ishtar (7088) is said to be equivalent to Asteroid Aphrodite so aspecting the ASC/MC can indicate surrounding yourself with beauty

🪼 - Having the ruler/lord of the 6H in the 12H can indicate that the pets you have in this life time can be family members from a past life

🪼 - Pluto aspecting the Asc/Sun or Moon gives you the "detective" aura, you can find yourself being interested in crime series or crime novels

🪼 - Cancer Guys especially Cancer Sun/Rising Guys can be momma boys,so when you date them make sure their momma won't come between u 2

🪼 - Venus in Cancer/Venus in the 4H are the best placements to have if you want to raise a family or an entire generation

🪼 - Asteroid Bless [92891] and what you were blessed with:

In the 3rd - with great siblings/brotherhood comfort

In the 10H - with a good career or job/public image

In the 11H - blessed with finding the community you belong to

In the 2H - finances/money/security

In the 9H - with a great background/ancestral background/with a good learning skill

In the 1H - blessed with your appearance/the way you look

🪼 - Asteroid Aura 1488 aspecting Sun gives the aura of a young soul, someone very kind and light hearted

🪼 - Aura 1488 aspecting Mars gives the aura of an ambitious/brave/bold person, influential aura

🪼- Aura 1488 aspecting Jupiter gives the aura of a four-leaf clover, very wise, spiritual, intuitive is giving shaman/wizard vibes

🪼 - The rising you have in your D9 chart (vedic astrology) is the energy you'll embody a lot in this life, for example I have Cancer Rising in my D9 chart and I have to focus on things that make me more comfortable and secure just like a Cancer 👁👄👁

🪼 - Virgo + Aquarius combo in your chart can tell about a very intelligent native, clear mind, good personality and charming

🪼 - Gemini + Leo combo in your chart can tell about a person who is always thinking at others more than anything, caring, generous, and social/popular

🪼 - Jupiter in your 4H/9H can indicate leaving your home country and flying to another maybe for a better life or whatever reasons, it indicates some moving when you were a kid

🪼 - Taurus Saturn/Saturn in the 2H are rarely talked about, I think Saturn here wants to teach the native to spend their money carefully on things so they can be 100% fulfilled of their purchases

🪼 - Saturn in the 6th/12th Saturn at 6° 18°,12°,24° degrees, this is a very healing placement, but one tool to use to heal yourself is literally the sleep, trustttttt me, if you feel sad try to sleep, if you had a bad day try to sleep it will make you feel much better! The sleep can actually heal you.

🪼 - Saturn in Gemini/Saturn in the 3rd house will give you "freedom of speech", your voice is very powerful and you can help people with it

🪼 - Pluto/Lilith in the 11th house can talk about being different from your group of friends, you can have something not everyone will accept in their friend group

🪼 - When you have Jupiter harshly aspecting your Sun you can often think of bad luck happening to you

🪼 - When you have Saturn in Sagittarius or in the 9H school can sometimes drain you the most, especially some teachers as well

🪼 - Mars in the 9H can actually tell of tense situations with teachers and in school generally (Mars in Sag and Mars in 9° and 21° can as well)

🪼 - Chiron in the 1st/2nd houses can not always the best relation with their bodies, is a slow journey but with good results, if you want that of course

🪼 - Venus in the 10th/Capricorn can sometimes put work before relationships, especially after a breakup omg, they gonna focus much more on work than ever

🦋 Connecting Yourselves to the source 🦋

[deadsetobsessions]

Gotham rained a lot more than Amity ever did.

Danny could not help but appreciate the differences. From the way the city itself curled around her inhabitants to the weather, Gotham was far darker than Amity ever managed to be.

Still, there were similarities. The screams, for one. In Amity, it was ghosts, their victims, and whichever ghostbuster of the day rocking up to rock each other’s shit. Another similarity? Danny’s inability to not get himself into troublesome shit, because he could never ignore a cry for help.

That scream was a cry for help if he’s ever heard one.

Danny cursed himself as he slipped through the alleyways, strides becoming smoother and agile than he normally walked like. He stuck to the shadows, the prickling of ghostly senses and honed vigilante instincts guiding him towards the scream. It was a man, getting stabbed by a guy in a red helmet.

Danny maintained that he was new here.

Which is why his foot connected solidly with Red Helmet's... red helmet.

"Motherfuc-" Red Helmet shouted as he was punted several feet away.

"Holy shit dude, are you good?"

Danny helped the guy up.

"Thank fuck! Back up! What took you so long?! Boss is gunna be so pissed if we're late!"

Hold up. Boss?

"Boss?"

“Black Mask, asshole! We gotta go before he decides to cut off our limbs!”

Danny yanked the guy to the side just as a bullet ricocheted off the rusted fire escape.

“Ope!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” A mechanical voice growled behind them.

“Oh fuck, Red Helmet guy.” Danny muttered.

“Shit, ya gotta run, tell boss I got caught.” The injured goon- because it was now apparent to Danny that the guy was working for someone dangerous- said. Danny appreciated the thought, but he only intervened because the guy was getting stabbed.

“Uh,” Danny hesitated. Clearly the guy had the wrong idea.

“Don’t make a move, unless you want your fucking heads blown off,” Red Helmet guy- wait, why does he feel liminal?- raised his guns. “Why don-”

Red Helmet guy was cut off by the thud of the now unconscious goon.

His helmet tilted down and then back up at Danny.

“Guess it’s just you and me,” Helmet guy sneered out. “Better tell me everything you know about Black Mask, or else you’ll get a taste of what he had.”

Danny held up his hands even though he knew he could just let the bullets phase through him. The smart thing would be to absolve himself and not get in the middle of two criminal’s beef as a civilian.

Danny’s full name, however, could have been Danny ‘Dumb Decisions’ Fenton. So, Danny practically interjected himself like an overexcited puppy at a doggy daycare.

“Okay, no need to get bloody. But uh, I have a question.”

Red Helmet cocked his head and mockingly gestured with his gun. “Sure, why not.”

Danny let as much of his midwestern accent into his voice as possible. “Who’s, uh, Black Mask?”

Red Helmet paused. Then he sighed. “You’re not from here, are you?”

“No…? I’m, uh, new in town.”

Red Helmet lowered his guns, and for some reason, Danny could tell that he was exasperated.

“Why would you even get in between a fight, dumbass? I have a gun! I coulda killed ya! He’s a criminal’”

Danny protested. Rude! “In my defense, you were stabbing him! You’re a criminal too, you know!”

“That makes it worse! You-!” Red Helmet paused. “Wait, do you even know who I am?”

Danny let his gaze wander down to the red bat-shaped logo on the guy’s chest. “Uh… Red Helmet… bat-guy?” He hazarded a guess.

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot.”

Danny gaped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” Red Helmet put his gun back and planted his fists on his hips. “You’re an idiot. Who gets in between a vigilante and the goon of a crime lord.”

Danny crossed his arms, leveling an unimpressed look at Red Helmet. “I’ve never heard of a vigilante killing someone, Red Helmet Bat-Guy.”

“It’s Red Hood.” Red Helmet sighed, walking closer. “And I wasn’t going to kill him.” Danny scoffed.

Danny relaxed, sensing the truth coming from Red Helmet guy’s liminal aspects.

“He’ll die looking at your ugly mug,” Danny sassed. “You’re gonna get him to a hospital, right? I’ll go with you.”

“Are you midwesterners all this trusting? What if I was the goon and this guy was the vigilante?”

Red Hood hiked the goon over his shoulder in a fireman carry. Danny followed after him.

“He’s the one that told me to go running back to his boss, Red Helmet.”

“It’s Red Hood.”

“That doesn’t look like a hood.”

Danny grinned as Red Helmet grumbled. How interesting! Maybe he won’t miss Amity as much as he thought he would!

“Ugh, fine, I guess someone’s gotta watch your dumb ass so you don’t get mugged.”

“I can take care of myself!”

Hood grunted. “I guess that kick wasn’t half bad.”

Danny beamed at him. “Thanks!”

——

Danny chucked a chimichanga at Red Hood.

“Wait a minute, you’re a crime lord! Being a goon was way less illegal than being a vigilante crime lord!”

Red Hood cackled at him.

[targaryen-dynasty]

A SUCCESSFUL HUNT.

Cregan Stark x female!Targaryen!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; fingering, p in v, rough sex, praise kink, size kink, possessiveness

WORDS: 4K

NOTES: What can I say? I just love this man. Thank you @sylasthegrim This can be read as part 3 of Set Me Alight Again!

✖️ 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The crackling of the fireplace is calming and comforting in your otherwise quiet marital chambers, its bright flames casting shadows to dance across the room. A chaise that has been specifically requested by you not long after your wedding to Cregan stands in front of it, and it was hard work for you to pull it from its place beneath the window to where it stands right now.

You’re nursing a goblet of wine, enjoying the peace and quiet while your husband is out on a hunt with his men. Nothing more than a relatively thin, white nightgown covers your curves with no smallclothes beneath, thanks to the warmth brought by the natural hot springs and the fire lit in front of you.

Cregan’s absence drags on with the hours passing, and you slowly but surely find yourself growing restless and a little lonely. He is a fine swordsman, you know that, but whenever his ventures take longer than anticipated, you can’t help but start to worry for his well being.

When the door suddenly swings open with your husband striding into the room, you jolt out of your reverie, making you look up at your husband, a soft smile playing on your lips. “You’re back,” you observe, taking in his disheveled appearance with his hair windswept and his clothes slightly rumpled from the hours spent in the cold forest.

Your husband grins at your words, the expression a little crooked and more than a little wolfish. “Oh, did you miss me, my love?” he teases, his voice rough with the exertion of the hunt.

At his teasing, your smile widens, eyes roaming over his disheveled appearance. He usually isn’t one to walk around with a neatly trimmed beard and well-combed hair, you have learned as much already, but this look of him coming straight from the forest, hair and clothes appearing as though he’s a savage, a true wildling, certainly sends a wave of something distinctly primal through your veins.

Rising from your chair, you place the goblet aside. “I might have missed the warmth of your body beside me, husband,” you reply, a hint of playful coyness in your voice as you outstretch your hand to beckon him closer.

Cregan lets out a small huff of laughter as he steps closer, taking your hand in his. His gray eyes trail over your figure, taking in every contour of it beneath your nightgown. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. “And I here thought you needed some peace and quiet without me keeping you up all night…”

“Oh, I do require peace and quiet,” you agree, bringing your hand up slowly to run your fingers along the lapel of his furs. “But I did not say I wanted you away from me, did I?”

“You’re a vixen, aren’t you, my love?” he murmurs, his voice a raw, gravely rumble. “Were you waiting for me, all alone, wearing that?” He pinches the thin fabric of your nightgown between his fingers, tugging gently on it.

Your hands wander idly over the solid planes of his chest, and you look up at him through your lashes, your expression coy and playful. “Maybe I was,” you purr, voice soft and teasing. “Perhaps I was hoping for my lord husband to return home and ravish me after a successful hunt.” Your words are bold, but Cregan is nothing but a man that enjoys a certain straightforwardness.

A deep rumble vibrates in his throat at your words, and he leans in to nuzzle against the sensitive skin of your neck. “My dear wife,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to your neck that makes you crane it to grant him even more access. “You know exactly how to drive me mad, don’t you?”

“Is it a crime to want my husband’s touch after being alone all day?” you whisper, your voice breathless with desire. “Surely you must be starving, my wolf, and I just happen to have something for you to feast on.” A soft moan escapes your lips as his teeth dig into your skin, arching against his sturdy frame.

His restraint is starting to fray at your soft moans and the feeling of your body pressed against his. “You have no shame, my love,” he growls, “but I am starving, indeed. And I plan on feasting until I’ve had my fill.”

His mouth finds yours, and there’s no gentleness in this kiss, only passion and desperate need, all teeth and tongue. As you pull away, your lips are swollen, and heavy breaths slip past them. “Then you best hurry,” you whisper, fingers tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck once before you slowly sink down with your eyes never leaving his, making yourself comfortable on the chaise again. “I would not want my handsome wolf to starve to death.” There’s a hint of sultriness in your voice, and if he doesn’t get the silent invitation for him to feast on you, he certainly does the moment you spread your legs for him, the flimsy hem of your nightgown riding up your thighs.

It’s more than obvious, and Cregan does not hesitate to rid himself of his thick furs and place Ice, the ancestral greatsword of House Stark, aside.

A gasp escapes your lips as you watch him sink down to his knees in front of you with half lidded eyes, his large hands trailing over your thighs with a possessive grip. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your skin heats with desire.

His breath comes out ragged as he pushes the hem of your nightdress higher, baring even more of your skin to his hungry gaze. But you don’t feel ashamed, and certainly not vulnerable – not in the presence of your husband, your protector, your love. “Let me taste you, wife,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Grabbing one of your thighs, his lips find the thin skin on the inside, pressing a kiss to it, before he proceeds to drape it over his shoulder. But when he repeats the motion, letting his lips linger on the inside of your other side a little longer, that’s the moment you all but want to squeeze your thighs together, soothing the aching that settles at their apex. The moan you release at the sight is pathetic, resembling more of a whimper than any sound of pleasure, and it makes your husband chuckle.

Both his hands cup your arse to bring your hips closer towards him, your breath catching in your throat the moment his hot breath fans over your soaked folds. “Gods, husband…” you whisper, voice barely more than a breath. You tangle your hand into his dark curls, urging him closer. “Please… I can not take much more of this teasing, I– oh!” The words cut off the moment your husband’s lips make contact with your cunt, his tongue trailing a hot, wet path up towards your sensitive pearl.

With one hand in his hair, the other tightly fists the skirts of your nightdress. The stubble of his beard scratches against your inner thighs as they squeeze around his face, igniting wave after wave of desire to course through your veins.

His name tumbles softly from your lips, a plea and prayer all at once, growing more and more desperate with his tongue lapping hungrily at your cunt. He moves his hand, one broad palm spreading your thighs open wider, granting him better access, his mouth never relenting as he devours you.

“By the Seven,” you whimper, tugging harshly at his hair. “I need you, husband… now.”

He chuckles against your folds, the sound low and wicked. Tilting his head, the coarse hairs on his chin graze your pearl, making you jolt. “I shall never get used to hearing a princess of the realm beg and plead,” he remarks, and for the first time you spot something akin to smugness on his features. “But I’m not sure I’ve had enough just yet, my love. I want to hear you scream my name before I give you what you really want.”

Your chest heaves with ragged breath as his lips tease your swollen cunt once more, a shiver running down your spine. “Gods… I need more, just give me–” The tip of his nose spreads open your folds, not only granting his tongue better access to your entrance, but also allowing him to ease two of his thick digits into you. Your body arches towards him, and your thighs enclose around his head again.

His nose rubs against your sensitive pearl, and with his fingers and tongue working in tandem, he has you right where he wants you in a matter of seconds – on the edge of your peak with your body taut like a bowstring and his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

Voice ragged with desire, you have a hard time forming coherent sentences. “I… please… I can’t take much… much more of this torment.”

Your grip on his hair tightens, desperate to keep his lips on your hot flesh, yet he still manages to tilt his head, interrupting his ministrations and forcing the wave of pleasure to subside at once. His digits still are buried inside of you, but not even squirming or shifting of your hips gets him to resume his movements.

“Patience,” he rasps, his lips curved into a wolfish grin you want to smack right off his face. “Good things come to those who wait.”

You release a frustrated moan at the loss of stimulation, your body desperately craving him. “You’re cruel,” you pout, writhing against the chaise. “And it truly is maddening.” Your complaints, however, are half-hearted, because at the same time, you love the way he winds you up like this; the delicious torment only heightens your arousal.

“And you love every second of it, don’t you?” he teases, leaning in to ghost his lips over the inside of your thigh, a hint of teeth grazing against it. It makes you impatiently shift your hips toward him, silently begging for more. He chuckles. “You have not suddenly become a quitter, wife, hm? I know you can take a little more.”

“I swear, if you make me wait any longer I’ll–” you break off as his tongue drags through your folds again, lapping at them like a man starved. With your eyes squeezed shut and the skirts of your nightdress tightly clutched in one hand, you allow yourself to revel in the pleasure again. “Gods… I need you, husband,” you whimper, tilting your head back. “Inside me… please.”

Cregan can barely hold back the groan that rumbles in his throat at your whiny voice, vibrating through your core as he groans against your cunt. But it seems your desperate pleas bear fruit with him rising to his feet, a pleased rumble in his chest. “There you are, begging so nicely for me,” he drawls as he leans forwards, both his hands resting on the back rest of the chaise, caging you in. “I do so love it when you use your manners, princess. You think you deserve a reward?”

Your eyes glint as you look up at him, coy smile on your lips. “I have been a good wife,” you retort. “I’ve waited all day for you to return, I was ready the moment you walked in. Is that not deserving of a reward? I ache for you, husband.” Your fingers trace idle patterns over his lips, touch light but insistent.

A growl rumbles in his chest. “These pretty eyes and that sweet cunt of yours are going to be the death of me.”

He captures your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it, before his other hand grabs your hips and adjusts you so you lie back on the chaise.

“You have the manners of a wolf, husband,” you remarked with a grin at his way of talking.

You’re ready to welcome him between your parted legs, but Cregan, however, deems it most fitting to shed off any piece of clothing left on his body, baring himself wholly to you. It’s the sight of his hard cock, straining and standing to full attention that has you licking your lips, and you find it difficult to meet his gaze again.

Chuckling lowly, he grabs your leg close to him and lifts it to make it easier to get between them, draping it over his shoulder like he’s done plenty of times before. The action makes you gasp, and you can feel your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

“But whose fault is that, hm?” you tease, raking your nails across his bare chest, scratching the dark, coarse hairs that spread all over it. “I recall you being the one who was rather insistent upon taking me as your wife,” you continue. “So, you best die a happy man.”

Both your hands are captured by his large paw, pinned to your belly. “You’re a cheeky wench, and too quick with your tongue,” he murmurs, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. It immediately coaxes you to arch against him, full breasts pressing against his chest. “I best find a way to keep it occupied…”

Your laugh is swallowed with a rough kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with an almost primal possessiveness. It’s passionate enough to suck the air from your lungs, making you completely unaware of his hand sliding down your curves to line his cock up with your entrance.

It’s the swift push inside that makes you gasp against his lips, his body covering yours completely, pinning you down in a wall of heat and muscles. His lips tear away from yours, only to immediately trail a path of hot kisses from your jawline down to the curve where your neck meets your shoulder. His hand grips your hip, hard enough to surely leave a bruise as he fully sheathes himself inside of you.

“This…” he mutters against your skin, voice strained and laced with desire. “You… mine. All of you is all mine.”

Feeling him fill you completely, your eyes fall shut, a whimper escaping your lips. You should be used to his size by now, yet you’re not certain if you could ever; not when each time he enters you – regardless of how often you’ve bedded each other already – it’s still accompanied by a slight stinging that washes away with the first rut of his hips.

“Yours,” you moan, your fingers finding purchase in his hair. “All ours… only yours.” There once was a time you whispered the same things to your uncle Aemond, entangled in the silky sheets of his bed, but they never bore a meaning similar to the one they have now – the ghost of an arranged marriage ordered to make up for the errors of your younger brother always lingering within them.

You writhe beneath him, trying to take him even deeper than what’s possible. There are no words needed to encourage him to move, but when he starts to grind his hips against yours, you aren’t quite sure if you’ve anticipated him to take things slower. His pace is merciless, toe-curling intense, and while your grip on his hair tightens, his shoulder is soon to be littered by crescent shaped marks of your nails digging into it as you clutch at it.

There’s barely one coherent thought forming in your head, mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations he’s stirring inside of you. All that leaves your lips as you clench so tightly around his cock are soft, broken gasps and moans, each of them desperate as the last, his name falling past your lips like a prayer.

Your body’s reaction is what drives him to go faster. And while the stinging of your nails makes him hiss, it also urges him to mark you himself, digging his teeth into your flesh – burgeoning bruises forming that are certainly meant to be discovered by your maids.

“That’s right,” he growls with a ragged voice. “You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

You unravel beneath him, arching your back and tipping your head back against the chaise, the sight not making it easier for him to stay composed enough to not peak on spot.

And that’s when he moves to press his chest flush against yours, holding your cheek with one hand, whilst the other grabs the side of the chaise, his biceps bulging from how tightly he holds onto it. His lips find the side of your face, kissing along your jaw, earlobe and temple. You have your head tilted to the side, granting him even more access as the weight of his body stops you from squirming beneath him, just allowing you to roll your hips against his.

“Oh, by the seven…” you whimper, turning your look at him. “Don’t stop… please, don’t stop…”

His frenzied, almost animalistic pace falters slightly at your words, clearly driving him wild. But he has a goal in mind, and won’t stop until you’re a mindless, trembling mess for him.

“Gods, you drive me wild with your…” he trails off, drunk on your cunt. “Such a wicked wife. I… I intend to make sure you will not be able to walk straight on the morrow.”

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand tugging on the short, dark curls at the nape of his neck. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his sturdy chest, teasing his skin, and each time that happens, you’re certain you can feel him throbbing inside of you.

The dark, coarse hairs splayed around the base of his cock and over his pubic bone drag over your sensitive pearl with the reckless snaps of his hips, sending a shiver up your spine each time. His thrusts are harsh and determined, reaching deep and expertly brushing your sweet spot as he fucks sweet, little mewls and moans out of your throat, filling your chambers.

His relentless pace brings you towards your peak quicker than anticipated, and your husband can tell by the needy look in your eyes and the way you all but cling to him. His swollen lips find yours, a heated, sloppy kiss exchanged that swallows down every whimper and moan that threatens to make you pull aways from him.

“Let me feel you falling apart for me, wife,” he grunts. “Peak for me.”

Your husband all but shows that he knows your body better than you know yourself, his words and the desperate plea behind them sending you careening over the edge. Your body tightens around him, choking him with the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. Your lips part with a gasp. You convulse all over him, your hips grinding against his as the hot pleasure courses through your veins. But this time his thrusts don’t stutter, keeping the passionate intensity to the point you’re losing your mind.

“That’s it,” he husks. His hot breath fans across your heated features as he leans in to rest his forehead against the side of your face. “What a pretty face you make when you’re drenching my cock.” You’re not sure whether it’s his pubic bone still dragging over your pearl, his cock still sliding in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your peak, but you feel yourself keening at his words.

It takes him a couple more thrusts that slowly bring you to the point of uncomfortable overstimulation, until his own peak washes over him. His cock is twitching and throbbing as your walls squeeze him for every drop of his seed, spilling his release deep inside of your quivering walls.

For a moment, everything goes blissfully blank for the both of you, your minds blissfully empty of everything but each other. The sounds of your heavy breaths fill your chambers as he collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Releasing a soft sigh, your hand slowly starts to massage his scalp, dragging through his dampened curls. “Was the hunt successful, husband?” you inquire softly, despite your still slightly ragged breath.

He hums contentedly against your neck, lips grazing the sensitive skin of it. “Quite successful,” he murmurs. “But I would not say it was the highlight of the day.” With these words, he pushes himself up so he’s able to press his lips to yours for a gentle kiss. “You, on the other hand, definitely take the top spot.”

You let out a soft laugh at his words. “I assume you caught something worth bringing home, then,” you say, your voice teasing. “Unless you spent the entire day just wandering around in the woods.”

There’s a roguish glint in his eyes as he speaks. “Oh, love, you know me better than that,” he teases. “I’d never hunt without catching something worth bringing home. Suffice to say, this particular catch is something I think you will like very much.”

Arching a brow, it’s clear your curiosity is piqued. “And what makes you assume I will like this mysterious find, husband?” you ask. “For all I know, it’s a boar’s head or some deer’s antlers. Not exactly the romantic gestures that make a woman swoon.”

If Cregan has learned something about you, it’s that once you’ve set your mind on something, there’s no stopping or distracting you – not that he wants to do that anyways. Pushing himself up off the chaise, he slips into his discarded clothes, and you do the same, putting on a soft gown that covers your body with the exception of the obvious marks his mouth left on your skin.

The dark, possessive glint in his eyes at the sight makes your body heat up, a renewed wave arousal pooling between your thighs. But no, there’s something else waiting for you right now.

The fur coat he’s worn before is now draped over your shoulders as you make your way through the dark halls of Winterfell, your steps quick and purposeful. You arrive at the stables rather quickly, walking through the aisles.

“What are we doing here, Cregan?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Patience, my love.”

And as you reach a small pen at the far back of the stable, you feel as if you’re about to faint. Holding onto your husband’s arm, you stare into the pen with wide eyes, watching the small litter of puppies sleeping in a pile. Their gray and brown coats shimmer slightly in the dim light, and if it wasn’t for you not wanting to wake them up, you’d all but squeal. Having seen plenty of dragon hatchlings before, you’re certain their cuteness was defeated by the small pile in front of you.

Stepping closer to the pen to get a better look, you can’t avert your eyes from them. “You found puppies in the forest?” you breathe, voice almost a whisper. “Where’s their mother?”

Cregan comes up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Not just any puppies, my love. They’re dire wolves. The whole pack was slaughtered by poachers, apart from these little ones. As we found the pack, we heard them whining and yapping not too far away.”

“Poor things,” you remark with a pout, leaning against the edge of the pen. “What are you going to do with them now?”

It seems as though he’s contemplating his answer for a moment, looking at the small creatures whining and wincing in their sleep. “I was thinking of keeping them for my… ourselves. They could make some good hunting companions and serve as protection for the castle… for you. Dire wolves are fiercely loyal creatures, and they’d make ideal guards for Winterfell and you,” he states, his hand running up and down your waist.

A shiver runs through you as his hand moves to rest on your belly, rubbing it softly since his seed has not yet bore any fruits. “And they’d make formidable companions for any of our children. I have heard that dragons do not enjoy the cold as much.”

Placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his fingers, you squeeze it softly. “They’d make splendid companions,” you remark. “And having them as protection for the castle would mean you could leave it a little calmer and reassured.”

“Exactly,” he rasps, nuzzling your hair with his nose as his lips brush against your ear. “Plus, they could keep you company. It would be nice to have a part of myself guarding you when I am away. Like the ultimate protection.”

Finally looking up at him, you have a soft smile on your lips. “I like that idea,” you say, pressing yourself against him.

And while your life in Winterfell is now seldomly graced by loneliness anymore with most of your time occupied by these small balls of fur, you have come to learn quickly that there’s been your own pup slowly growing inside of you, your husband’s seed finally bearing fruit and expanding your family.

Cregan Taglist: @nats-whore @gemini_mama

[r3ynah]

To be with you three

The justice league was in critical condition, a unknown entity had breached the universe's protection, and was now creating havoc everywhere.

He called himself, Skulker. he already had captured half of the justice league. and was only interested in fighting Red hood. Something about being a Halfa or something.

Red hood was not having fun, nor was Batman. Everything was in shambles. Even the most powerful cannot defeat the floating entity. the JLD was trying the best they could but to no avail they couldn't contain it, The entity aimed his weapon at Red hood and took fire.

When all hope seemed lost, Vines sprouted up the ground and saved Red hood in the last minute. The other vines also grabbed the other heroes and made a protective barrier between the entity and the JL.

confused the heroes looked at the rogue who was floating, his expression was now with fear and nervousness, he frantically looked at his surrounding seemingly expecting something.

"Are you all alright?" A voice asked, making all heads turn towards to a woman that looked like she's in early adulthood, with long black hair cascading down to hair waists, she looked like someone that can fit into Gotham's aesthetic with her thick eyeliner and her gothic style and a couple of vines that wrapped around her body.

"Who are you?" Batman asked his guard not wavering a single bit.

"My name is Foliahàrà, And we're here to take care of that Ghost." Sam pointed towards Skulker who was looking at her nervously.

"We're?" Superman asked

"Me and my partners. speaking of them here they are right now." Sam said in a tone that no one could specify if she's bored or it's just her personality.

A loud bang shook the city, when they looked back were the entity named Skulker was now gone, In his place was a man? woman? with white hair and green eyes, he had a cloak that shrieks royalty and a black pointy crown floating above their head, Skulker was now on the ground, a crater was formed below him, he was down. he was down. and all it took was a punch from the person

Another man came to the scene he was holding a thermos of some sort. he looked normal, normal clothes and all to the very least if you ignored all the gadgets and sand that followed him, he walked up to Skulker who was most likely knocked out, he opened the thermos and it turned the entity into a liquid before trapping it inside.

"Well that's taken care of." Foliahàrà said, as she retracted her vines that was protecting everyone, she froze then turned her surprised gaze towards Red Hood and eyed him making him uncomfortable, she floated to his direction making the man take a step back, Batman tried to hit her with his batarang keyword:tried, it just went through her.

for the first time she arrived she smiled at hood then with the outmost gentle voice she said. "you're a baby ghost." She cooed as she placed both of her hands at the side of Red hood's head, which he stared at her confused more confused when the pits became quiet all the sudden.

"I've got to tell Phantom and Codelith." she stated and took flight with the crime lord in her arms, she carried him towards her partners in the sky like a newborn baby, protests from the heroes below was ignored by Sam, as she continued to fly up, when superman tried to get her, she shot out a few of her vines that successfully trapped the hero, he tried to escape but her vines was stronger, and why was this power making him weak? like it doesn't hurt but it makes him really tired .

Red hood stayed quiet, trying to comprehend what happened did he get kidnapped or something? holy shit he did get kidnapped.

"Phantom, Codelith! I got a baby!" Sam stated as she finally catched up to them.

"Holy shit, Foliahàrà you can't just kidnap someone else's child" The one with glasses exclaimed with panicked hands, as he teleported near them.

"Cool new kid, More members for our cult" Phantom said as he floated towards red hood who still held onto the Photalis, because when i tell you he was afraid to fall 30 meters from the ground is an understatement.