#infinite x you

[spacequokka]

Page 101

Sunggyu finally looked up at you and said, “I suppose it’s time to tell you. The meaning of life is napping.”

“I can’t stand you.” You rolled your eyes. “That doesn’t even relate to what I said, Gyu.”

“It does too!” He gestured to the mess on his desk. “The script isn’t done because a nap is the solution to all of my problems. I got stuck writing the scene, so I took a nap!”

You could only stare at him. “Fine. I’ll just tell Sungyeol you need more time. I’m not in the mood to play mind games with you.”

He jumped to his feet and grabbed your arm. “No! If you tell him, he’ll just pick someone else’s script. I can finish this, just gimme another day or two.”

“When he suggested I be your editor, he didn’t mention your slow as molasses work habit.” You frowned. “And I don’t wanna hold him up. He has deadlines, too.”

Sunggyu mirrored your frown. “I know, but if he doesn’t buy this script, I won’t be able to pay my half of the rent on the first. ______, please. I need this.”

“Then quit stalling and plant your narrow ass in that chair,” you pointed to his desk with the fancy chair he insisted he guy with his last check, “and finish writing that script.”

He pouted as he trudged over to it and plopped down in the chair. “I just needed a break. There’s no need to be mean about it.”

“I wouldn’t have to be mean if you hadn’t waited until the last possible minute to start writing.”

“My best work is done under pressure,” he replied with a snooty smile.

Your right eye twitched, and you could feel your blood pressure climbing. “Don’t kill him. He can’t make money if he’s dead.”

He looked at you with alarm. “What?”

“Nothing.” You turned and walked out, intending to get a shot of whiskey or vodka—something to curb the urge to get violent.

[bet-on-me-13]

The Ambassador

So! It was finally happening. After Years of Pleading with the Guardians and other Ruling Bodies of the Galactic Community, the Justice League had finally gotten then to agree to create an Alliance with Earth.

With an Alliance, Earth would gain the Protection of Multiple Empires and The Guardians, which would mean an end to the Constant Alien Invasions they faced. There was also the legal opening of Trade Routes between Planets to exchange Technology and Resources on the Galactic Scale.

Of course Earth would return the Favor, legally being able to defend it's Allies with its unusually large population if Superheroes and quickly advancing Tech, while also trading Tech and Resources between Planets.

Of course the battle was not entirely won yet.

They still needed to begin Negotiations to see if both sides would even agree to the Alliance in the First Place, as well as decide on the specifics of the Treaty. The United Nation's would decide on Ambassadors to represent the different countries, while the different Alien Governments would send an Ambassador Each.

When the Ambassadors arrived, they asked to be introduced to the Representatives of the Planet. Except, they claimed that there was a missing Member.

They claimed that there was one more Major Kingdom on the Planet, the most Powerful One, which they felt must be at the Negotiations.

When asked who this missing Ambassador was, they simply replied, "King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, he and a Shard of his Kingdom reside on this Planet, do they not?"

Now they are working around the clock to find this missing Kingdom, because the Alien Ambassadors refused to negotiate without the most powerful Kingdom at the Table, and they woud not wait forever.

Just who was this "King Phantom", and why had he not revealed himself yet?

...

Sam and Tucker sat on the Couch in their apartment, staring at the TV as the Chosen Representatives for America finished their Speech. Apparently the Peace Talks had been put on Hold for a few more days as they did some last minute preparations. Something about making their Guests more comfortable before they began discussing politics.

"Hey Danny, they're delaying the Negotiations for a few more days." Sam called over to the Kitchen.

"Aw, what?!" Shouted Danny from the Kitchen, sounding extremely disappointed, "I just finished making all the Popcorn!"

"I know Honey, its too bad." Tucker comforted his Partner, "Let's marathon Star Trek instead, how about that?"

Danny slumped out of kitchen and into the Couch between them, steaming bowl of Popcorn in his Lap, "I guess. We can make good use of all this popcorn at least."

Sam patted him on the arm, "Hey it's okay, the Talks will just take a few more days."

Danny shrugged, "Yeah, you're right. Man, what I wouldn't give to be in that Room."

[vaguely-concerned]

rook falling asleep on the red couch in the lighthouse dining room while lucanis is making dinner....... they were helping out by keeping him company and peeling and chopping potatoes for a while there but then the potatoes are done and the room is so safe and warm and smells like coffee and good food and lucanis is trying to explain something to spite and his voice is low and soft and good to listen to and rook's eyes only slip closed for a moment. they'll get up to save the world again or whatever in a second just. one moment. while the world is warm and kind. and then they're being shaken gently awake an hour later because it's time to eat and everyone's starting to drift hopefully dinner-wards

[bluerosefox]

Soulmate Across the Multiverse

A DPxDC soulmate au idea

So DCverse is a soulmate world (pick any soulmate way btw, words, touch, drawings on the skin, can't see color(s) until they see or touch them, etc etc)

DPverse doesn't.

Meaning Danny wasn't born with a soulmark BUT he gets one after becoming a halfa because he is now connected to the Infinite Realms.

SO its during another one of Vlad's schemes, he's popping into different worlds and stealing things or something like that (basically like that one ep where Danny chases Vlad through the timeline after he stole Frostbite's map)

During the chase they pop out into the DCverse in one of the hero cities (pick any, not picky on which) and their fight is getting a bit out of hand (Vlad's fault, he's using the stuff he's been stealing, and Danny is doing his best to getting innocent people from getting hurt)

ANYWAYS during the fight, one of the cities hero's come to try to help/find out whats going on when Danny is hit by Vlad and gets tossed at them. The moment they either touch or Danny/Soulmate says something to the other, Danny feels the odd mark on him burn up and is MEGA confused on whats going on but decides to do what he does best.

Ignore it for now. He'd figure it out later he still needs to stop Vlad.

He apologizes to the other hero and gets back into his fight, missing the look of complete smitten awe/shock said hero had on their face.

[emacrow]

Constantine is noping this situation, you can't make hi-..ah fucking damn it

John was already paled when Kronos got revived, but seeing the eyes scalding blinding Fear of God staring into your very soul and judgment every inch power that was in that godlinng babe was enough for him to started drinking his emergency booze.

He is not dealing with Greek Gods bullshits, especially if that what he puzzling in the pieces together Then Kronos's story was becoming twisted all together. Nope, he isn't. Batman can bribe him all he wants. He is fucking leaving now!!

Fucking with THAT right there especially with the contract he still owed Kronos for, he rather suffered the complete obliteration of his soul being torn to shreds once he dies then have that god find him. He is escaping of here before She even noticed that he is Here with her ol time relic still in his pocket.

Before he can even get one step in the portal ready, he already felt his chest tightening as if his entire chest was being squeezed like a kid's teething toy.

Fucking dammit, he should've left right when Kronos was still having that psychic backlash, he knew he should've trusted his gut, fucking time Goddess and her all knowing of when and where.

Part 6 << >> Offical Quiz that Decision the Fate of this continuing fic >>> Fic Released

[one-chaotic-neautral]

Arcane ships ranked, for fun

The main ships and some rarepairs I've found, I like pretty much everything in the first 4 rows. I probably missed some but idk what they are and I'm too lazy to add more rn.

feel free to add your thoughts or ships but again its just for funsies :)

[shinigamigloss]

mission accomplished

✎ Leon's a certified manwhore, really. You know that, but you can be worse than him. So what's the most that can happen in a hotel room with a reputedly flirtatious womanizer like Leon after an onerous mission? ID LEON SUPREMACY.

cw: getting it in a hotel room, cunnilingus, d in p aka mating press yay, creampie, size kink size kink size kink, protection? forgotten. fem! reader, he's just silly therefore beware of the corny lines, biting, MDNI

“You wanna get dinner when this is all over?”

You couldn’t say if it was worth nipping in the bud at that juncture, but this whole little odyssey with Leon definitely started with that very query. It wasn’t a figure of speech – you really had him down on his knees in a random hotel room.

The lavender air of the hotel room, the gunpowder-like whiff, and the notes of Old Spice emanating from the tender curve of Leon’s neck still wreak havoc on your brain after your shared kisses. Your legs buckle, and you’re in sackcloth and ashes, all thanks to wearing those mean machines – your Jimmy Choos. But you feel sexy within his reach, and you adore the vamp of your stilettos – the panorama of him sinking between your legs as he nudges you down onto the edge of the mattress.

“Panties off, pretty.” His singsong cadence is cajoling, of course; you get the gist of it.

“Demanding, are we?” You rebut, pixilated and all mawkish. Lifting your hips only slightly, you hitch up your legs and pull down the panties that have been eclipsing your love-starved pussy for hours, and with a sloppy thud, the only piece separating Leon from your lovely cunt thumps onto the linoleum floor.

“Well, now you know why I said nay to dessert at dinner.”

Such corny, coquettish platitudes only serve to draw a slumberish smile to your lips. You have no idea how men with such beautiful faces can be saddled with a palate full of sophomoric slapstick. But a dick is a dick, and something tells you that Leon won’t leave you empty-handed.

“Fuck...” You tilt your head, tracing a moony arc, and your chin is high, all the while splaying your hands over the fluffy, freshly laundered sheets.

How you got here – and how he’s now lost in the slick heat of your pussy – is a great mystery. (Well, not really. It’s a story about two horny agents renting a hotel room on the condition that they make it safely back from their mission in China) Still, you love the tender lips pressed against the plush, juicy slit.

Leon wouldn’t leave without a taste, even though the foreplay feels superfluous. After all, skipping foreplay is a felony. It’s a rule – no exceptions: a manwhore has to know how to eat his partner out. This is precisely why Leon Kennedy is notorious in the D.S.O. and the dominatrix scene – a beloved whore through and through.

So he puts you in his mouth and eats you ‘til his teeth rot.

He loves it when you pull his hair (such a slut!); he even sometimes honors you with groans that sizzle your ears pleasantly. Right now, Leon’s priority is to gorge on you and perhaps make you cum more than once during the course of the night. But what about himself? His pleasure?

Of course, by the time he pulls down the indigo jeans he’s wearing, he will already be drenched in thick globs of precum.

He has a couple of minutes to reflect on that issue, but in those enchanted split seconds, all he does is lap at the dripping amrita from your hole, flowing for his benefit.

“Too fucking sweet.”

His mouth, which has been yapping non-stop since he was assigned to the assignment alongside you, is apparently very well trained at the eating-pussy phenomenon, and he can’t help himself, clawing at your thighs and pulling you into his mouth; you’re half too thunderstruck to even buck your hips closer.

His tongue is sugar-coated. Even more delish as he drifts on and on, on your pussy, maybe even romantic, no matter how many times he says he’s a typical man for your average overnight, the lies are unfolded, and he gets all the more addicted.

“Leon. I’m–’m fuck.”

You’re so out of it that you’re babbling whatever pops into your head and out of your mouth. Insidious blues lock on you when you push your eyes open, expecting to see that he’s got it, that you’ve grasped the notion of his generosity. Of course he has to make it all about himself.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Comes between each of his licks, and you can’t muster the strength to even hold your own fucking head. His mouth heats up a beatific pulsation within you when he rises up to your face, and he puts his business on your lips. Kissing on a first date (if fucking can be excused as a reason for a first date?) is idiotically discouraged, but this man isn’t going to listen to such absurd dictates when he’s drunk on your essence.

And you’re more than up for it, so you sweetly reciprocate his kisses.

Thwip, thwip.

It grates on your ears, and you know what it is. Leon hastily tugs at his belt, wary of missing a second. Free yet? Ha – it’s not in the cards. His boxer briefs are still in the way for both of you.

“I wish men wore panties too,” you bitch up, purpling your pouting lip. Leon freezes mid-motion. Is he processing the absurdity of your words, or just too high on scotch and pussy to respond?

Or are you already the pot calling the kettle black?

The possibility of the former, however, is an assumption that is fraught with misconception when you pull down Leon’s boxers ‘cause he’s already in the same boat, but with a hole in it. If the room had been bathed in those bludgeoning fluorescents, instead of the hazy dim lights, you would have seen that his boxers were more profusely soaked than your panties. Viva the dim lights... or the fact that you don’t even care how wet he is.

“What?”

The anticipatory look he gives you can only signal that he would like you to soar onto the covers.

“Legs up, roll over.”

“Nope. Missionary is for sore losers.” You mumble it in a faux, patronizing tone, and you’re a fucking liar. As nice as it sounds to track his face in missionary and stab your fingernails on his back – despite the fact that you broke two of them in the line of duty – you want to ride him more than anything else.

“Losers, huh?” Leon grabs your wrists nicely and stamps you on the bed. “Sleep with losers and you’re as good as a loser, gorgeous. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, yeah?”

Your head, sunken into the pillow, floats slowly on lint clouds. To watch him from below is like setting foot for the first time on an unearthed planet made of exploded blues. Fuck. You’re so high that the man has turned you into a slam poet.

He hoists each calf of yours and hooks your legs over the frame of his shoulders, leaving your pussy bared – and the December cold seeping in makes your inside flutter. If it weren’t for his pelvis pressing against you on the corner of the bed, you could very well trip on your ass and break a pretty serious bone.

“Keep your legs like this.” He prelects you, very laconic.

You feel so giddy when the raw head of his cock, which he rubs in the palm of his hand, slithers and mellows at your entrance as he works himself in with assiduous thrusts.

“Tight as hell,” you hear him croak, but you aren’t quite in the zone enough to pay it any mind. Your bleary eyelids are only half-lidded, if at all, not fully opaque – so that you can catch a glimpse of him over the nebula blurs on his visage under your batting eyelashes.

“Shit, baby, you can’t even take the fucking tip.” Leon’s whispers are eulogies of the lovely cunt he first got drunk on the tang of and now will drool on the tightness of. He gives a roll of his hips, but never the thing you so need – he harrows you so blatantly.

You barely lift your hips, humble and tentative, and meet his impish prodding – but his splayed hand on your ribcage forbids you from venturing and fucking yourself on his cock any deeper. The loss of levity on your face and the line of your eyebrows knitted in frustration is absolutely delicious to behold for an asshole cheeky fuck like Leon.

“Stop trying to fuck yourself and use your words, would you?”

For no apparent reason, his voice haunts you, as if you’ve heard the last announcement of your fleeing plane.

“Come on, girl. Get it out.” Leon whispers again and layers all the clouds of discord in your head one by one. Those humiliating clouds of thoughts in your head poof, pan, flake, and evaporate from your slightly ajar lips in a single cry.

“Leon. Please. Gulp. Please. Fuck me.”

Ouch. These words will always conjure up visions of shooting yourself with your own gun when the alcohol drains out of your veins in the morning, especially after these foul entreaties.

This chain of events, in which Leon has pulled a rabbit out of the hat on a night that was already in his favor, is capped off with your fuck-me-please beggary. (Propaganda even.)

“You got it, beautiful.” He nuzzles you, metaphorically speaking, with a cloying coo, albeit with an ardent clench on your hips. The purple shadows that will mark your skin for a few weeks are right in his wheelhouse.

The normal you go like, “Oh no, I can’t be such a slut overnight, and for a man? Humor me, bitch,” you’d be taking the mickey out of yourself.

Leon, however, is just divine. He’s inside you, and he’s hard – a diamond in the rough.

The kisses you share are sporadic, wet, and perhaps absurdly romantic: for such a “trivial” night. In Leon’s mind, the blinking light bulb recalls a blaring alarm; the realization that something so good is manipulating a distorted reality comes to him in the seconds when he’s already hammering away at your cervix, but without violence.

“Fuck.” The kiss breaks abruptly, like a tape rewinding inside both your collective heads.

“The condoms,” hits Leon square in the head, but what’s the big deal? Your legs are up, in the air, bless the yoga gods, just like the image of that chick in her heels getting knocked up by Patrick Bateman in that movie, but the guy twitching inside you is now preaching condoms to you.

“Leon.”

You’re on the last rung, and his lips are saliva-laden mess, melded with the cherry tinge of your lipstick. You really should’ve dabbed it off or something.

He blinks at you, and he owes it to you to correct his mistake immediately, filling you to the hilt with a lingering and deep-seated thrust.

“Leon!”

Your cry strikes him rapt, and he savors that familiar, sinful tightness around himself. So needy; he relishes the feel of you squeezing his cock.

You sharply suck in the breath upon the touch of his teeth as he bites a bruise under the delicate flesh under your throat, where it smells deliciously dulcet. He’s drunk on you, drunk on the saccharine moans and whimpers that spring from your lips, and to be honest, he’s been dreaming about this the whole time.  

Men grow wiser as they get older, but as Leon grew older, he indulged in one-night stands where he devoted himself to pretty, pretty women making love to him.  

It’s bitter that you’re one of those women, but you still want him to use you, use you so badly and carelessly.

You don’t know how much longer your fuck-drunk head can keep up, but he knows very well that you’re getting close. He pulls back slightly, releasing your ankles and reaching between your legs with his gun-wielding hand to work his thumb on your clit. You’re so desperate for his affection, and tonight, he feels too lavish not to deprive you of that dazzling bliss.  

Your moans echo through the hotel room, high-pitched and frantic, the overstimulation nearly unbearable.

“It’s okay, let yourself go, cum for me, pretty.” Leon’s gruff sighs ebb and flow as he brings you back from the abyss; his pace slows and then he so randomly brushes a languid thrust into that spongy spot inside you.

And you listen dully, your eyes almost rolling out of your sockets, but you give him what he wants.  

Everything is hectic, wet, extravagant, and that’s exactly why he keeps going. Forehead to forehead, you both wind up panting, but Leon still gets an A+ for looking good when he fucks you. Your glazed eyes are riveted on his night-blue shades of pupils in the darkness. You both know what that lock of eyes signifies.  

Before you can say a word, Leon pulls his cock out of your slickly coated pussy with the most obscenely slick sound.  

Something inside you frantically pleads that he should still be inside you – what a loss, but Leon takes your hand in his. He’s in need, after all.  

“You’ve got this. Go on. Make me cum.”  

Give his cock three or five sloppy strokes, and he cums on your stomach. Easy.  

You slide your legs down; there’s no way you can hold them up any longer, and he groans when you let go of his softening cock by memory, as if you are discarding an object that is no longer of use to you. Your legs dangle over the edges of the bed, and Leon closes his eyes, if only fleetingly, to soak in the moment, his cheek buried in the crook of your neck.  

Too long or too short; you don’t know how much time stretches by; you’re so wired that your brain feels like it’s melted and fucked as though the chunks of it are oozing out of your ears. It’s almost cozy. Disgustingly.

But all good things come to an end.  

So at the end of the night, still lying in the topsy-turvy bed like it’s your own vaulted coffin, you watch Leon slip his jeans on with your restless eyes rolling. He’s sitting next to you.  

When he’s done, he turns and flashes you the cheesiest wink in the world before rolling out of bed. It’s always shocking you how corny he can be. Just in the past few minutes, he was fucking you into this very mattress. Spread your legs kinda shit, fucked your brains out kinda shit.

“Man, this room stinks of sex.” Leon makes a wry face and cups the tip of his nose.  

“Get your ass up and take a bath, or I’ll never set foot in here again.”  

You can hardly raise your hand and shoo him away. Mentally you can no longer shield yourself from these crank antics. He knows it all and snorts a long sigh.  

“You’re a total goner, beautiful. Well, you’re a big girl. You’ll be fine.”

Before he closes the suite door, he takes a quick glance at the digits of your phone number that he had you write on the palm of his hand; he has to verify that it’s still written there.  

“I’ll give you a weekend wake-up call,” Leon promises and closes the door behind him.  

Whump.  

Mercifully, the next date is a shoo-in, but it only means that you will have to slog through another evening of seconds, minutes, and hours of listening to his blathering and off-color in-jokes.  

Is it really worth it?  

The answer to that, given that you still can’t bring yourself to get up and wash the drying cum off your stomach, can only be one simple answer. You might as well call Hunnigan and let her know you can’t make it into work for tomorrow. 

[shycloudkitty]

Just one more minute...

Summary: Your husband has to leave for yet another mission but he's not quite ready to let you go yet… So he just savors…each… moment… 

Pairing: Death Island! Leon × Fem reader

Tags: a bit angsty but lots of comfort, Leon sleeping peacefully for once in his life, fluff, established relationship. Just overall a short comfy read <3

WC: 1.3K

Small droplets of rain splatter on the windows of your bedroom. The soft sound created a soothing lullaby for the ears for those who were sleeping to it. The cloudy weather and the chill air contributed in making it the most serene environment while you stay snuggled up peacefully in your husband's arms with a warm blanket over you. 

His arms stayed around your waist holding you gently in a warm embrace, face nuzzling your hair, gentle breathing warming your neck. This was always his favorite position to fall asleep to. Your smell, your soft touch, your weight beneath him, telling him that you were really here… You were real. 

Your arms were wrapped around his bare torso and face buried in his chest. Feeling his body warmth seep into your skin. Limbs trained to take life, now just protecting you from the chill air and comforting you in your sleep. 

It was such a simple moment, just a couple sleeping and relaxing in each other's comfort. But at the same time it was so rare between you two. Just having these simple moments with him felt like a blessing. It was heaven.

And why wasn't it normal for both of you? Right. He had a job of saving the world, do or die, special agent... You get the idea. Except his job wasn't exactly a James Bond one. That only happened in movies. No, this was more grim than what they show in the movies. But what can you do when these are the cards life dealt you with? 

But he always felt inspired by you, how you handled every situation thrown at you with grace. Obviously, he wasn't a fool, he could see it was tough but still tried your best. Even in this relationship, you handle everything with so much love and care…he never had someone who sticked with him more than a few months let alone actually get married to. 

He didn’t hold anything against his exes, like his life was basically swamped with work so he understood why they left. What was actually confusing? You staying in his life, despite everything. You stayed even when he missed some of the important moments of your life. Sadly, that was the reality of his job. You win some, you lose some.

He was obviously happy that you stayed with him despite everything but he never quite understood why? He couldn't help but ask you this question. He remembers seeing your cheeks get red, avoiding his gaze and softly saying ‘I love you’. He also recalls saying ‘thank you’ in response because of how flustered he got from the confession. 

That memory always makes him facepalm himself.

After the day of your confession it was like his world flipped. And even though he didn't understand it fully at the time he wanted to do everything in his power to keep you in his life, even if it meant catering to your every whim. He listened to everything you said, trying to remember the best he could. 

He actually has a secret folder on his phone containing everything about your likes and dislikes just in case he needs a refresher. 

He didn’t even realize when it happened but he fell in love with you and wanted to keep you in his life forever. Thankfully, you felt the same way when he got down on one knee and asked if you wanted to marry him. He almost lost the ring with how nervous he was, fidgeting with the ring box in his pocket every 5 minutes.

It's been a few years since he tied down the knot with you and it was the best decision of his life. Sure, being married presents its own set of problems, sometimes things get rocky between you two, but there was nothing you both couldn't solve. Sometimes the problems needed talking, other times he could tell without you saying a word. But each time he makes it known that he loves you. Always. 

The soft rain slowly stirs Leon awake, he glances at his surroundings and then looks down at your sleeping face with his bleary eyes. He yawns and rubs his eyes, the digital clock on his nightstand read 6:30am. 

It was still half an hour early before he had to go to work today for some missing person assignment Hunnigan gave out. He didn’t wanna go but apparently it was top priority and needs his immediate attention. He told you about it last night, you weren't exactly happy since it was last minute but at this point you had grown used to it.

He tilts his head and looks at your serene face, caressing your cheek and sighing. His lips press a soft kiss on your forehead and gently threads his fingers through your hair. His voice comes as a soft whisper. “I don't wanna go either… you know that, right?” You probably knew how he felt about going too. You could read him like a book at this point. 

His eyes flit through your soft features, taking note of your breathing, slow and deep, fully relaxed. He smiles to himself and whispers in the same soft voice. “God, you’re so beautiful. You always are.” he lovingly brushes some hair out of your face. “I'm really lucky I get to see you like this, feels like I'm in heaven even if I probably won't ever go there. You do so much for us, I wish I could just stop this moment for us and never let go.”

He sighs softly and slowly pulls you closer to the warmth of his chest, trying not to jostle you too much. He closes his eyes briefly, focusing on your warmth. And starts mumbling to himself. “Honestly, if I was a poet I would have written dozens of poems about you. They probably would have been corny but you would have liked it.”

He gently starts brushing your hair again and continues. “But since I'm not… I don't have enough words to fully express how much you mean to me. The fact that we’re still together, makes me the luckiest fool ever lived. My heart hurts sometimes because of how happy I get cause of you.”

He sighs and mumbles. “I'm not normal…never have been. But with you…I feel that I finally became the man that I was supposed to be. And that I finally have a place called home."

He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. He didn't know what had possessed to become so sentimental this early. “I'm really cheesy aren't I?”

He felt soft teardrops on his chest where your face was resting. You had woken up from his rambling. 

His heart clenches from realization. He gulps, feeling the sudden lump rise up in his throat. He hugs you tighter and rubs your bare back. “I will come back, I promise.” Softly pressing a kiss on your shoulder. 

He glances at the time again. It was nearly 6:55am. He had to start getting ready for work. 

He slowly tilts your face, wiping away the tears from your shining eyes. His expression softens, cupping your face in his hands and softly kisses you. He feels you kiss him back, your grip on his arm tight. 

After a few moments you both slowly pull back from the kiss, eyes closed, foreheads resting against one another, soft breathing filling the quiet room. He softly mumbles. “I have to get ready now sweetheart.”

He feels you shake your head in response. Your soft voice fills the room. “No…wait for few more minutes. Just stay.”

He gulps and nods. He wasn't strong enough to deny that request. He pulls you close, covering both of you in the blanket. “Of course, darling.” And press soft kisses on your shoulder. 

Enjoying these quiet moments of solace with you. Even if he couldn't make this moment last forever, he knew he would come back to relish it again... 

Usually I wouldn't say this but I would very much appreciate it if you left comments, obviously if you want to. It helps me improve and encourages me to write more. 😊❤

-Bella

[kiwiiooopuff]

Loving Leon's side profile⋆｡°✩

Look, I get that we love Leon's side profile because it makes us wanna ride on it but please tell me you wouldn't just wanna kiss his nose too...

Actually- scrap this whole post because i'm about to just leave kisses on his entire face, kisses on his scruffy jawline n everything idgaf anymore *sighs*

[flwrkid14]

Eternal Bonds: Tim and Danny’s Infinite Realms Marriage

In the Infinite Realms, marriage is an unparalleled commitment. Unlike the mortal world, where love can be fleeting and easily undone, marriage in the Realms is something far more sacred. It’s not just about vows or ceremonies—it’s about merging souls, creating a bond that not even the vast stretches of time can sever. The very idea of marriage in the Realms is rare, almost mythical, because it requires two beings to love each other so profoundly that they’re willing to bind their very existence to one another.

For the ghosts and entities that reside in this realm, eternity isn’t just a poetic idea—it’s a reality. Time is meaningless when you’re no longer alive, when your very essence is bound to the afterlife. And because of this, relationships are viewed through a different lens. There’s no such thing as divorce, no “time apart.” Once a couple is bound, their souls are intertwined forever. To dedicate your entire being—past, present, and future—to another means accepting that their joys, sorrows, triumphs, and failures will be yours too. It’s a partnership where breaking the bond is simply impossible.

It’s why marriage is such a rare occurrence in the Realms. The ghosts, who have already lived one life and often seen the frailty of mortal promises, don’t enter into this kind of bond lightly. It’s only for the strongest of loves, for the most steadfast of commitments. Because once you marry in the Infinite Realms, that bond holds through eternity itself.

And yet, despite the gravity of it all, Tim and Danny find themselves willing to make that very commitment. Tim, a mortal tied to a world where things end, where nothing lasts forever, steps into the unknown. His love for Danny is so deep, so unshakable, that he agrees to a traditional Infinite Realms marriage. He knows full well the weight of it—he’s not just vowing to love Danny in this life, but in every life after. In swearing to this bond, Tim is offering his entire being to Danny, for now and all of eternity.

For Danny, this choice means even more. As a halfa, he exists between two worlds, knowing both the mortality of the living and the permanence of the ghostly afterlife. His love for Tim is powerful enough that he’s willing to make this eternal commitment, knowing that there’s no one else in any world—mortal, ghostly, or beyond—he would rather be tied to. For Danny, the bond is as natural as breathing. It’s a connection that deepens their relationship in a way that transcends the limitations of their two worlds.

Their marriage isn’t just a declaration of love—it’s a merging of souls, a binding that makes them two parts of the same whole. It overwhelms them with the sense of safety and belonging that they’ve both craved in their lives. In each other, they find the kind of love that doesn’t just endure life’s difficulties but thrives beyond them. Their bond ties them together forever in a way that no one else could understand, but to Tim and Danny, it’s everything.

They are each other’s home. And in the Infinite Realms, there is no greater honor, no stronger connection, than to be bound by love for all of eternity.

[thisdudedoesntexist]

Danny has a problem.

It's been around two weeks after fighting vlad and removing his powers, the tension has been building between them for a long time.

First it was the crown, Danny had earned it after fighting Pariah but Vlad thinks that Danny isn't ruthless enough to rule saying that he's "too soft" and "too indecisive" to wear the (for all the title of Ghost King is worth) glorified funny hat. Then after a long time of arguing between them Vlad came up with a scheme. If he couldn't become the king he would become the regent, he just needed to possess Jack Fenton, have him divorce Vlad's "beloved" Madeline and then possess her into marrying him.

As you can guess this didn't work, Danny found him about two seconds after he tried to divorce Maddy cause he wasn't even trying to act (like a human sized Golden retriever) his dad. So he and mom beat the creepy incel out of his dad, in the process Danny was forced to transform and his parents accepted him (YAY!), he also got hit in the side of his head by Vlad, damaging his Broca's area just enough so he can only speak in Ghostspeak, but he can still understand human words and letters. After that mess they moved to Gotham so he could recover in a place with high ectoplasm without Vlad harassing them. ( Lady Gotham hates Vlad.)

Now you're probably wondering, "What's the problem, Vlad is out of the picture and your parents accept your half dead-ness."

The problem is that some guy dressed as a scarecrow released some weird gas into his school. He didn't get a lot of people cause the "Bats?" Showed up but his friend Damien got sprayed and ran off saying he was gonna kill his brother tim. So in Danny's infinite genius he ran off after him to make sure he doesn't hurt someone.

He's not sure why Damien speaks Ghostspeak though.

[avis-starr121]

Okay I'm relatively new to DpxDc but I have an idea I haven't seen and wanted to share.

Dead on Main but I've seen people saying that Danny and Jason met in the Ghost Zone while they both were dead, eventually getting together. I love it, it's a really cool idea.

Expanding on that, what if Danny trusted Jason to keep the Ring of Rage?

So like what if Ra's had a deal with Pariah allowing the Lazarus Pit's creation and with it Pariah put a curse of Rage/Madness with the Ring of Rage.

So when Jason was a ghost, he has the ring from Danny (I really like Ghost King Danny, but to your own headcanons) then he's brought back as a zombie then dunked into the Pit where the Ring is stuck to his core.

So the Ring has become like Pit Rage Extreme.

So like Danny's panicking in the GZ because his boyfriend just disappeared (whether in front of him for more angst or him realising it because Jason didn't show up for a date) and then having the realisation that shit he has the Ring of Rage and it's now missing!

So Jason (I like the idea he has a protection and/or revenge obsession) just doesn't realise he has a powerful relic which is causing his core a lot of chaos added to the Pits which probably needed to be cleaned out a few centuries ago.

So when Danny either a) finds him or b) is summoned he is so relieved he's got back his boyfriend, and the Ring where everyone just goes

"…what?"

[hypewinter]

Danny is reading peacefully in his new room at Wayne Manor when there's suddenly a commotion outside his door. Next thing he knows Bruce comes storming through the door.

"Danny did you lie to me about your past!?" he asked calmly.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

American Psycho Killer

Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.

Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.

A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3

[part two]

“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!

Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.

Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.

What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.

His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.

He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.

Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.

When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?

He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.

Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.

But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.

Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.

He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.

Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.

The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?

He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.

So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.

The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.

He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.

He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.

Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.

So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.

Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.

He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.

After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.

And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.

Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.

He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.

There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.

He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.

Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.

He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.

Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.

With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.

A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.

You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.

“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.

You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.

As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.

Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.

As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.

Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.

You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.

The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.

This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.

He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.

He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.

He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.

So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.

“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.

You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.

“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.

“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.

Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.

You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.

Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.

Just for him.

That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.

His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.

His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.

He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.

You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.

And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.

He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.

He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.

He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.

When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.

Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.

Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.

Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.

Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?

Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.

The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.

It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.

It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.

Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.

Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.

The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.

In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.

You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”

You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”

He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.

You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”

He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.

He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.

“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.

He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.

One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.

He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.

You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.

Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.

“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.

Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.

He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.

His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.

You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.

He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.

For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.

[thevoidstaredback]

Danny couldn't tell you what he expected, but it most definitely wasn't this.

Time and Space were weird in the Infinite Realms, both bending to the will of their masters and no one all at once. They didn't follow a line or a path. Time and Space did as they wanted. Fitting, considering who their masters are.

The first time Danny was ten years old, his Grandfather killed him. He remembers that, in an effort to save him, his mother submerged his body in the Lazarus Pits he and his brother had been warned about ever going near.

As it was explained to him, the Infinite Realms has a base level of sentience at the very least. She allows herself to peak into the worlds She cradles to keep an eye on them. She found Danny when his mother had lowered him into the water and She claimed him as Her own. She bent Time to Her will, making Danny a toddler again, before bending Space to drop him in the world that would most allow him to grow. She promised that She would come back for him when the time was right.

The first time Danny was fourteen, after the second time he had been ten, he died. The parents he had learned to accept as his own tried to open an unnatural gateway into the Infinite Realms. He was the one to turn it on. The electricity of the mortal world killed him, but the energy from the Infinite Realms revived him.

He remembers the whispers barely heard under his own screams. Whispers and imprints of "I'm sorry" and "I do not mean to hurt you" and "You will only grow stronger" and "Welcome back, my champion".

Danny can count on one hand the number of times he's felt safe between the first time he was six and the first time his was fourteen. He can tell you the names of exactly two places he has never felt the need to hide from.

The day Danny turned fifteen for the first time, he told his parents what happened to him. He knew, instinctually, that they would not understand, that they are researchers before they are parents. But he held onto the hope that had been trained out of him when he was first four years old. He had hoped that they would go against all odds and accept and help him.

He shut down the portal the very next day. He destroyed it and all of his parents' lives work. He would not stand by and let them hurt his people when he could not be there to interfere. He escaped back into the embrace of the Infinite Realms through Vlad's portal, giving him the Order to destroy it. The only way for the citizens of the Realms to enter the mortal worlds was to use natural portals, as unstable and unpredictable as they are. He would not risk them again.

He finds himself wandering listlessly, letting the Realms take him where She wants him to go. Sometimes She takes him to places that are completely empty, places where he can mourn what he lost without anyone finding him. Sometimes She takes him to his mentors and friends. Sometimes She takes him where he needs to be.

Danny finds the boy just as the natural portal closes behind him, the sickly green and black oozing like a festering wound.

The boy looks similar to Danny. His hair is spiked, his clothing dulled shades of a hero's costume under a black cloak, a mask covering his eyes, his body being more filled out to match his age. But Danny, on every level of understanding that he is and ever will be capable of, knows that this is his brother.

"Damian?" he whispers. The Realms push him forward. "Damian!"

Danny cradles the body of his brother, slowly sinking to the ground the Realms produce for him to land on. He carefully peels the mask from his face and lays it beside the katana on the ground.

As expected of anyone who finds their way into the Infinite Realms without proper protections, Damian has no pulse. He is not breathing. He is cold. The wound under his sternum is not bleeding.

Danny brushed his thumbs under Damian's eyes, his hands on his cheeks. "What did they do to you, ahki?"

Despite having no mortal ability to do so, Damian's eyes opened. He started ahead, blinking when his green eyes met Danny's. "Danyal?"

Tears fell from his eyes as he nodded. "Hi, Damian. You're here early."

Tears fell from Damian's eyes as well. He knew where he was. There was only one explanation. He couldn't feel himself breathing, nor could he hear his heart beat or his blood flow. There was no pain from where his mother had run him through.

"She killed me!" Damian cried into his brother's shoulder.

Danny held him tighter. "I'm so sorry," No one should ever have to go like that.

"Father couldn't save me."

"It's okay."

"Dick and Tim and Jason and Cass-!"

"Shh, ahki. You will see them again. I'll make sure of it."

The brothers held each other as they cried. The Realms wrapped Herself around the boys, comforting them as she could. Her champion and his brother, both children She had claimed and would protect.

Part 1 Storyboard

@anarinette

[radiance1]

A silly idea based off of this post of mine and one made by @puppetmaster13u

Danny gets summoned, which is something he rather much hates yet as the new Prince of All Ghosts he is incapable of ignoring a summons unless he is actually stopped from doing so in a way that is unavoidable.

Like how the Ghost King was trapped in forever sleep.

Danny doesn't want to experience forever sleep just to avoid summoning, however.

It doesn't exactly help that, in the process of being transferred, the Infinite Realms dresses him up in clothes that, yes, befit his station of royalty (that he didn't ask for) and no he is not going to question how the infinite managed to get said clothes.

At least they're comfortable and he doesn't have to have the embarrassment of showing up in his pjs.

And it was at, said summons, that Danny had rather unintentionally fallen in love with someone who looked to be a age. A sacrifice for (which Danny was still new why in the infinite do they think he wants sacrifices???) the ritual to summon the Ghost Prince in exchange for a favor of some sort.

Danny, obviously, did not do that.

The Infinite Realms, of course, having tagged along knew exactly what Danny was feeling. Their little blorbo had developed a crush! A crush!

So of course, as any good higher being that favors one their special little guys, they try to make more chances for them to meet by interrupting various other summons because yea it can just do that now that it was given the incentive to do so.

Danny is both mortified, annoyed, and the teeniest tiniest bit thankful.

Also why is this kid always being captured by cults????

---

Meanwhile, with Billy.

He thinks an interdimensional Ghost or some sort of Godling-? Has fallen in love with him, so much so that he interrupts any of the times that Billy has been used for a sacrifice.

Which has been getting increasingly more often, as of late, and he's vaguely concerned on why that is.

If only the Gods in his head would stop chanting for him to be more proactive instead of a Damsel in Distress when he's caught the interest of the High Prince of the Infinite.

(I genuinely can't remember or just don't know if he can only hear it as Shazam, so if that is indeed the case then just imagine they keep bugging him when he's Shazam-ed)

No he is not going to try and kidnap him-!