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thatdogmagic · 1 year

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...that your audience won't hate.

This is a method I started using when NFTs were on the rise - thieves would have to put actual work into getting rid of the mark - and one that I am now grateful for with the arrival of AI. Why? Because anyone who tries to train an AI on my work will end up with random, disruptive color blobs.

I can't say for sure it'll stop theft entirely, but it WILL make your images annoying for databases to incorporate, and add an extra layer of inconvenience for thieves. So as far as I'm concerned, that's a win/win.

I'll be showing the steps in CSP, but it should all be pretty easy to replicate in Photoshop.

Now: let's use the above image as our new signature file. I set mine to be 2500 x 1000 pixels when I'm just starting out.

Note that your text should not have a lot of anti-aliasing, so using a paint brush to start isn't going to work well with this method. Just use the standard G-Pen if you're doing this by hand, or, just use the text tool and whichever font you prefer.

Once that's done, take your magic wand tool, and select all the black. Here are the magic wand settings I'm using to make the selections:

All selected?

Good.

Now, find a brush with a scattering/tone scraping effect. I use one like this.

You can theoretically use any colors you want for this next part, but I'd recommend pastels as they tend to blend better.

Either way, let's add some color to the text.

Once that's finished,

You're going to want to go to Layer Property, and Border Effect

You'll be given an option of choosing color and thickness. Choose black, and go for at least a 5 in thickness. Adjust per your own preferences.

Now create a layer beneath your sig layer, and merge the sig down onto the blank layer.

This effectively 'locks in' the border effect, which is exactly what we want.

Hooray, you've finished your watermark!

Now let's place that bad boy into your finished piece.

You'll get the best mileage out of a mark if you can place it over a spot that isn't black of white, since you'll get better blending options that way. My preference is for Overlay.

From here, I'll adjust the opacity to around 20-25, depending on the image.

If you don't have a spot to use overlay, however, there's a couple other options. For white, there's Linear Burn, which imho doesn't look as good, but it still works in a pinch.

And for lots of black, you have Linear Light

Either way, you're in business!

EDIT since this has escaped my usual circles, and folks aren't as familiar with my personal usage:

An example of one of my own finished pieces, with watermark, so you can see what I mean about 'relatively unobtrusive'-- I try to at least use them as framing devices, or let them work with the image somehow (or, at the very least, not actively against it).

I know it's a bummer for some people to "ruin" their work with watermarks, which is part of the reason I developed this mark in particular. Its disruption is about as minimal as I can make it while still letting it serve its intended purpose.

There's other methods, too, of course! But this is the one I use, and the one I can speak on. Hope it helps some of you!

#watermarks #artist tutorial #watermark #AI #art theft

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bbqhooligan · 1 year

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photoshop brush strokes too slow i dont have it in me to call it lag but theyre not smooth at all also Flow ruins all my brushes anyway long story short once i fogure out brushes in photoshop its over for you bitches

#photoshop #paint tool sai #mypost #sai brushes are soooo pretty and so easy to control i love them i have the prettiest marker ever on there #hey maybe i should change the brush type #idk why theyre so slow and cut

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shkspr · 2 years

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i love watching life hack videos so i am going to share my favorite genres of life hacks:

buy a product and use it for its intended purpose

you can make anything a chair if you staple a cushion onto it and then sit on it

ideas that are actually innovative and original but the final product is so fuck ugly that it makes me feel murderous

avoid doing this thing the normal way by doing it in a way that is more difficult and more expensive and worse

this hack will solve a problem nobody has ever experienced

instead of buying furniture, you can make it using the carpentry skills and power tools that you definitely possess

someone forgot the word for recipe and they decided to call it a Kitchen Life Hack

diy home decor is as easy as putting paint on a thing and then displaying it. paint a banana. paint a leaf. paint a bottle of pop. interior design is my passion

this would be the most ballingest life hack youve ever seen. if it actually worked

making shapes out of hot glue is the poor mans 3d printing

i dont say this lightly: the fuckers at 5 minute crafts HAD to be high out of their gourds when they thought to do this.

#hof

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unendingphantasm · 2 years

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youtube

2005 video

#this one's got less than 2k views #searching for old videos #im trying to see if anyone has captured footage of paint tool sai on windows 95 or 98 #im trying to see if anyone's captured footage of paint tool sai running on windows 95 or 98 #the earliest archived pages on systemax.jp's pages on paint tool sai #which was refered to as 'full color paint tool sai'#(although the logo says easy paint tool sai)#says it was compatble with Windows 95. 98. NT4. 2K. and ME #so im just wondering if someone has uploaded older versions of it.#on a computer #sadly the systemax page has no archives from 2k3 up until 2k7 when it started being archived again #i'm not in a rush. i don't think it's changed at all #the screenshots on the 2002 archived page for sai still has the same UI.#the other reason i wanted to find it was to see people drawing on those chunky 00s drawing tablets #Youtube

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dollfacefantasy · 3 months

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Cool Rider

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets you ready for a ride on his motorcycle

word count: 1.4k

a/n: just a little fluff drabble i've been thinking about while i go back and forth on my other longer fics. imagine this to be a little bit after vendetta when leon's starting to get better. hope everyone enjoys, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

“Quit joking around or you’re not going anywhere,” Leon grunts as he continues to mess around with the tire pressure on the rear wheel of his motorcycle.

“I’m just saying-” you chime before being cut off.

“You’re saying nothing more or I’m changing my mind,” he says and gives you a warning look.

Despite his attempt at being stern with you, affection clouds his eyes. You play along for him and mime zipping your lips. With a sharp exhale and shake of his head at your antics, he returns his focus to fidgeting with the pressure gauge hooked to his bike. But you’re happy just because you saw him smile.

You’d been begging him for months to take you for a ride on his bike. Every time you’d asked, you were met with “no” or “in your dreams.” You’d always ask him why, and he’d just brush it off. Too dangerous. It’s something he does alone. You eventually just gave up. He deserved his space, and you knew he’d seen so much pain and death in his life that he was probably a little overprotective by nature. It came as an absolute shock to you when he approached you last week and asked if you’d wanna go for a ride this weekend. He’d said it so casually, like he hadn’t shot you down time after time before. You weren’t sure what had changed, but a win is a win, right?

Now sitting on the stool by the bench where he kept all his motorcycle stuff, you swing your feet back and forth. As much as you’d been teasing him for the last thirty minutes about taking forever and a half, it was fun seeing him so locked in on his task. You studied his face, the way his brows furrowed and his eyes hardened, his lips curling a little with dedication.

“Hey stalker girl, instead of staring me down, maybe you should finish getting ready,” he teases as he finishes up and starts putting the tools away.

“I am ready,” you say.

“No you’re not. Where’s your helmet?” he asks while walking to you.

“Mmmm… you don’t wear a helmet,” you playfully point out.

You were just being difficult because he was so easy to mess with. You weren’t dumb, and you had no desire for your brains to splatter across some pavement. In general, motorcycles kind of scare you to be honest. If anyone but Leon was driving it, you wouldn’t even consider hopping on the back. So there was absolutely no way you were gonna get on that thing without a helmet strapped on.

“I didn’t ask you if I wear one. Where’s yours?” he says.

He stands between your thighs and looks down at you, taking in your pretty eyes, pouty lips, the face he couldn’t get enough of. His fingers run along your jaw, his thumb stroking over your chin. Every detail had him enraptured. He made fun of you for staring, but truth be told, he was just as guilty. The only difference was he hid it much better than you did.

“I’ll get it in two seconds. You were just taking so long, I figured I had some time to relax,” you joke with a quick peck to his lips, hopping off your seat.

“You better get it. I want your pretty little head kept in one piece,” he murmurs and lays a kiss on your hairline. He lightly swats your ass as you walk away, drawing that laugh from you that he loved to hear. He’s smiling while grabbing the keys, not that you could see it with your back to him. You were easy to mess with too.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that I have to wear one if you don’t,” you say as you lift the helmet up and inspect the one he’d bought for you.

“Too bad. I know what I’m doing. You don’t. God forbid I actually let you do this, and you end up with a concussion or something,” he grumbles while grabbing the keys.

“If we get in a crash though, your experience won’t matter. We’ll both go flying all the same. Then you’ll be the one with the concussion or worse, and I’ll be flat outta luck having to take care of you,” you explain while fidgeting with the straps on the helmet.

“Here, gimme that,” he says, taking it from you. He fixes the straps and gets them where they should be. Yeah, you’re being intentionally stubborn, but you had a good point and he knew it. “If it’s so important to you, I can wear one too.”

“It is important to me. I always want you safe,” you say, taking a moment to be genuine between all your teasing.

“I know, baby,” he says softly. It’s all he could say. Obviously, with the life he had, he couldn’t “be safe” all the time. But god, you made him want to try.

He gives you one last kiss before putting the helmet on you. He fastens it into place, making sure it’s nice and tight. Tilting your head around, he inspects it thoroughly. Has to be certain this shell of hard plastic is gonna do its job and protect his precious girl.

After he’s done examining the efficacy of the helmet, he pulls back to give you a once over. Really look at you.

“Does it look good?” you ask, voice slightly muffled.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it looks good. Pretty cool,” he confirms.

Of course you looked more than good. The sight of you completely melted his heart. He just didn’t know how to say it. He’d never been too good with words when you were involved. You made everything foggy, hard to think.

He couldn’t see the grin on your face right now, but he could just about feel the excitement radiating off of you as you pulled him into a hug, the shiny dome covering your head resting over his heartbeat. His palm runs up and down your back before you pull away and head to the motorcycle.

“Are we ready to go?” you ask.

He could hear the anticipation in your voice too. It was infectious, made him want to get on and speed off without looking back. But he still had a little hesitation left. Rationally, he knew he’d done everything he could to make sure this would go smoothly. In all likelihood, you would just have some fun and then come back home and everything would be fine. The irrational part of him just wanted that to be 100% guaranteed. He’d lost so many people. He couldn’t survive losing you, especially to something as trivial as a motorcycle accident.

But he was stalling now, and he knew it. You deserved this. Deserved to have the fun he’d offered you. You’d been so good to him for the last several months, putting up with him when it would’ve been reasonable to leave him in your rearview mirror. He swallows his doubt and nods.

But as he sees you start to look at it like you’re gonna get on, he stops you.

“Wait a second,” he says, starting to shrug off his jacket, “It’s cold out, and with the wind and everything. Just put this on.”

He can’t see how you lovingly roll your eyes at this which is probably for the best anyways. Knowing him, he’d probably get all huffy and defensive about it. Argue the practicality of his decision rather than just admitting he’d gone soft for you.

Regardless, you let him wrap the leather around you, sliding your arms into the sleeves. You give him a thumbs up, and he pulls you close to him, thoughtlessly planting a smooch on the cool helmet like he’d normally do to your head.

“You better hold on tight. This isn’t a video game. You don’t get extra points for riding with no hands,” he teases before grabbing the extra helmet he had and putting it on.

This time you give a mock salute and watch him swing his leg over the seat. He waves you over and you gladly get on behind him. The warmth of your front presses against his back. He looks down, admiring the way your hands lock around his waist, your arms adorned in the white stripes of his jacket.

He wheels the bike out of the garage, taking a deep breath as checks to see that the street is clear. One more sigh and mental reassurance later, he’s speeding out onto the road. He knows it’s all worth it as soon as he hears your laughter and feels you clinging to him even harder.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff

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fakeboyfantasies · 2 months

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Adrian's Pride Outfit

Words: 1,768 Kinks: FTM misgendering, humiliation, piss, rape, breeding

It had taken weeks for Adrian to talk himself into it. Even now, looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t believe he was soon going to be wearing this in public, even if it was at a pride event with other people wearing even less.

For the first year ever, Adrian wasn’t wearing his binder to pride. He was barely wearing anything up top at all - a fishnet top did very little to hide his perky B cups, nipples covered up with trans pride flag pasties. He’d stuck a pronoun pin in the gaps of the mesh for good measure. It was a trans inclusive event, and he saw other transmascs topless all the time. Adrian spent an hour before the event doing his makeup, picking out shoes, and fussing over how his butt looked in his tiny shorts, his pronoun pin jingling softly every time a movement made his boobs bounce.

In Adrian’s apartment, he had felt confident and masculine. In his friend Anna’s car, he had felt confident and masculine. Once they got to the parade, he was starting to have second thoughts about his outfit.

Luckily for him, pride was full of easy distractions. He bought himself a couple of cocktails, and a very nice drag queen gave him an edible after they talked for a few minutes. Adrian was feeling great. The gummy was starting to kick in, and he was drunk enough and had seen enough other trans guys going topless to feel less dysphoric about it. The alcohol was moving through him quickly though, and Adrian excused himself from his friend group, going off to find the bathrooms.

The park was fucking huge, and he was drunk. It didn’t help that the sun was setting, and the area of the park he was in was totally unlit. That was probably for the best, though. He didn’t want some random jogger or something to see him like this.

Finally, Adrian found one of the park bathroom structures. He didn’t think it was connected to the pride event, but hopefully it would be empty? He decided to take the risk, going into the men’s room.

The bathroom was not empty. A guy probably Adrian’s dad’s age, wearing a tool belt and paint stained clothes, was washing his hands, and he gave Adrian a judgemental look up and down.

“Wrong bathroom, sweetheart. Door to the ladies’ is on the other side.”

Shame curled in Adrian’s gut, behind his bursting bladder. “No, I, uh.” Drunk and inarticulate, he pointed at his pronoun pin. “I’m here with the pride thing?”

The old man scoffed. “Now, girlie, don’t be silly.”

Adrian had gotten plenty of weird looks in men’s rooms before, but he had never actually had anyone say anything. But he’d spent years planning exactly what he’d say, had tons of pithy remarks and clever comments that he’d been working on for ages. But now that he was really faced with the situation, a man sneering at him, belittling him and misgendering him, Adrian didn’t feel clever or pithy. And when he opened his mouth, his voice came out in a high pitched whine, not a masculine demand. “I really gotta pee,” he pleaded.

The man’s face broke out in a menacing smile. “You gotta go, princess?”

Adrian’s face was burning. He pushed down on himself through his shorts with the heel of his hand, wondering if he could just go to the women’s room. A spurt of pee leaked out without his control, soaking into his shorts. “F-fuck you, just lemme use the toilet!”

The old man grabbed Adrian by the elbow, dragging him into the bathroom stall. “Alright, princess.” He yanked Adrian’s shorts down, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at the wet spot on the crotch. “You had better go, you already had an accident in your pants.”

“What the fuck!” Adrian desperately cupped his crotch with his free hand, not wanting this weird old man to see his pussy. No one had seen his pussy at all since he had hit puberty. His chest did give him some dysphoria, but the major source for him was his bottom dysphoria. Even having to sit to pee made Adrian dysphoric, which could make him hold it for way too long.

The old man forced Adrian to sit on the toilet. “Stop touching yourself, little girl,” he scolded, grabbing Adrian’s wrists and ripping his skinny arms away. He was standing between Adrian’s legs, preventing him from closing them.

His overworked bladder gave way almost immediately, and Adrian couldn’t help his moan of relief. “Don’t look!” he squealed. His head felt stuffed full of cotton balls, and he couldn’t believe this was really happening. It was the most humiliating experience of his entire life. Adrian squeezed his eyes shut in shame, and the old man responded with a rough slap across his face.

“Look at me,” the old man barked. Adrian obeyed, sniffling and looking up at the man as tears dripped down his cheeks, smearing his mascara.

The old man grabbed Adrian’s pronoun pin, ripping it off and tossing it into the toilet bowl. Adrian let out a weak little ‘no’ of protest, but the old man didn’t care. He shoved Adrian’s top up too, yanking the trans flag pasties off roughly and dropping them into the toilet bowl too.

“Yeah, that’s where all that faggot shit goes. Feel good pissing on your people, girlie?”

“You’re a fucking asshole!” Adrian sobbed. His bladder was finally spent, and he struggled in the old man’s grip, trying to get up. The old man just slapped him again, this time hard enough that it left Adrian’s ears ringing.

“You got such a sexy body, too.” The old man played with Adrian’s tits, his big, calloused hands squeezing and pinching. “Look how big your nipples are.” He twisted one of Adrian’s nipples roughly, making him whimper. “Gonna be real nice for feeding babies one day.”

The thought of being pregnant made Adrian’s skin crawl. It was his worst nightmare. He started to cry again, sobbing weakly as the man played with his tits.

“You bawl like a fuckin toddler,” the man complained. “Now stop crying.” He yanked Adrian up by the hair, landing a solid smack on his ass.

Adrian stumbled after the man as he was dragged, drunk, scared, and confused. A nauseating wave of realization hit him when the man pushed him over one of the sinks. “No! No no no!” he squealed, kicking out weakly. The old man spanked him again.

“Quit whining, girly.” He undid his jeans, taking out his hard dick. Adrian saw it in the mirror, petrified by the length and girth of it.

“No, please!” Adrian begged. “I can’t take it, I’ve never had anything down there before!” The one or two times Adrian had tried to touch himself like that, he’d barely gotten knuckle deep before feeling too dysphoric.

“You’re a virgin, princess?” The old man rubbed the head of his cock along Adrian’s slit, making him sob. “Not for long.”

“No- ohh!” Adrian screamed as he was suddenly penetrated. The old man’s cock stretched him painfully, hit a spot inside that made him feel nauseatingly feminine. “No, no, please don’t! You can’t do this, this is rape!”

“I thought you were a man.” The old man pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, moaning at the stretch of Adrian’s tight pussy around his cock. “Men can’t get raped.”

“Let me go!” Adrian insisted.

To his shock, the man pulled out. “Move a fucking muscle and I’ll whoop you,” he warned severely. Despite how humiliating it was to stand like this, tits dangling below him and his legs spread, wet pussy on display, Adrian knew the old man meant it.

The old man bent down, grabbing something off the grimy bathroom floor. Adrian’s wet shorts. The old man took Adrian’s phone out of his back pocket, taking his ID out of the card slot on the back of his phone case.

“Jessica,” the man read out loud. “What a pretty name.”

“That’s not my name,” Adrian blurted. The stranger knowing his deadname felt somehow just as violating as having his dick inside him.

The old man sneered at him. “What is your name, then?”

“Adr-” But he didn’t get to finish, because the old man was shoving the tiny shorts into Adrian’s mouth, forcing him to taste his own piss. The old man took a roll of tape from his tool belt, securing a strip over Adrian’s mouth to keep the shorts in place.

“That’s better. Little girls should be seen and not heard, Jessica.” The man stepped behind him again, grabbing Adrian’s arms and forcing his wrists together behind his back. He taped those in place too before grabbing his dick again, giving it a couple pumps. “Yeah, much better.” He pushed back in, grabbing Adrian’s tits as he did. “Watch yourself get fucked. You look away, I’ll take your ass virginity too, whore.”

Adrian didn’t dare disobey. He watched himself through teary eyes as the man used his cunt. His tits bounced eagerly with each thrust, and his mascara ran streaks down his face to the duct tape. And against all odds, Adrian found himself starting to like it. He felt scared and ashamed, but with every thrust, the old man brushed his never-touched g spot, bringing him closer and closer to orgasm. Adrian had never been able to cum on his own, no matter how much he abused his clit trying to jerk off like a boy.

The point of no return came when Jessica did, bearing down on the old man’s dick with a slutty, feminine moan into her gag. The orgasm was so intense, making her collapse against the sink as she squirted over her rapist’s cock and down her thighs. The old man didn’t stop going, fucking the mewling, overstimulated fakeboy until he came deep inside her. “That oughta do it. That’s what all girls like you need, a good hard dicking to get knocked up.” He smacked her ass again. “Now get the fuck out. This bathroom is for men only.”

Jessica was shoved out of the bathroom, naked except her sneakers and a torn fishnet top, gagged with her arms bound behind her. The old man’s cum leaked out of her as the poor fakeboy stumbled back towards the parade for help. Jessica looked down at her nipples poking through the fishnet top, remembering the old man’s words. Her tits really were going to be good for feeding babies.

#forced detrans #ftmtf #ftm girl #ftm misgendering #detrans kink

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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Phantom's number 1 Fan. Part 2

Tim wakes a few days later, half submerged in liquid and hooked to various machines. He is in a tub shaped like a bed, obviously meant to sleep in. Around him is what he hopes is a hospital room with medical tools scattered about and soft blue paint that turns to the night sky the higher it goes on the wall.

On the ceiling are paintings of various constellations. It's rather beautiful.

Tim also notices he feels no pain. None. Not even the aches of his bones after years of abuse while fighting crime. He thinks that's a bit strange since the last thing he could clearly remember was barely escaping Ra's al Ghul, losing his spleen, and gaining more wounds from angry assassins on his way out.

He had been flying half-blind, blinking in and out of awareness. He thinks at one point, Cassie had attempted to call him, and he may have answered, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what he told her.

He did remember what she said in response. She sounded so desperate as she begged over the S-Batplane speakers. "Please, Tim, you're not well. Let us help you. Just tell me where you are."

Too bad for her, since the S in S-Batplane stand for Secert because Tim had built that one on his own in Secert. There was no way she or any of the hero community could track him in it since they had no idea it existed until Tim had taken it and his supplies on his solo mission to save Bruce.

Tim will admit that he is happy they noticed he went missing- even if it was three months too late. Not that it mattered much. The rest of the Bats wanted nothing to do with him. The world only saw him as a young easy wallet as a shiny new CEO. And his friends were all dead or convinced he was insane by Dick.

Tim didn't have anyone to notice he was gone anymore. But Bruce needed him to push through the ache and get him home.

As the Robin who Bruce trained to put the mission first no matter the cost, the one that came after Jason's death so, Bruce stopped allowing himself to think of Robin as a son and more along the lines of a soldier; he quickly shut down the crying child that wailed for someone to believe him, to support him.

Sometimes it felt like Tim was still waiting by the door of Drake Manor, waiting for someone to come and care for him, to stay for him.

The door to his room opens, snapping Tim back to the present. He automatically stiffens, expecting more of the League of Assassins. He can't remember much, but he guessed he was captured by the fact he was sitting in a green glowing water.

He was not, however, expecting a Yeti to walk in, reading a clipboard.

The Yeti looks up, bearing its teeth at Tim when he notices him awake. It takes a moment to realize the action is supposed to be a smile. "Great One's Honored Guest, I am so glad you have awakened. I am FrostBite, your doctor for the remainder of your recovery."

Okay. Ra's has Yetis at his disposal.

He was the only person that Tim knew as the "Great One." Usually, his most loyal operatives too, which means he was deep within Ra's territory.

FrostBrite pauses for a response, but when Tim remains silent, he holds up his board. "It seems to me that most of your wounds have healed. The only problem is that your spleen could not be salvaged due to the damage."

Tim fights to keep the despair off his face. He figured that was the case, seeing as Ras's had it in a jar, but he had hoped.

"...I understand this may be a difficult adjustment. You will always have to be careful when being ill. Even a simple cold could be disastrous." Frostbite steps close, taping one giant claw on the tub's edge. "The Great One has ordered we keep consistent Ecoplasm Baths at the ready for the remainder of your natural life."

Fuck. The Yeti is saying Ra will never let him leave again. It's a threat disguised as a offer of help.

Tim glares down at his hands. They lay within Lazarus' water, gently healing his small scars. This must be some of the purest Lazarus he's ever seen. It must be Ra's own special blend.

The only reason he is wasting it on Tim is that Ra's wants an heir from him. Or for him to become the Heir. He doesn't know, which makes him feel worse but he does know what lust looks like.

It's one that Ra's has aimed at him for too long.

He may as well get this over with. Learn as much as he can. Plan an escape. The best way to do all that is to simply ask.

"When is the wedding?"

Frostbite freezes. "I beg your pardon? Whos wedding?"

"Th Great One and mine" because the madman would never allow a bastard to inherit his empire.

"You and the Great One....are paramours?" Frostbite sounds awe. Shoot his medic doesn't know anything. The Yeti is likely low ranking.

Tim looks away, and the giant white creature jerks into action. "I apologize for not treating the Great One's beloved properly. I shall have servants bring up a meal while you soak. And the finest robe we have! Sweets and messages....offers of gold?....humans always like gold."

He waits until the Yeti leaves, mumbles of giving him the royal treatment echoing in his wake. Tim sighs, sinking into the water. He knows he is being watched as that's what he would do, so for now he needs to stay put and heal.

He's never going to get Bruce back if he acts too rashly without knowing where he is and what else Ra has under his control. Yetis were no easy feat to beat on his own. He like to avoid....a vampire or something too.

Half an hour later, FrostBite returns with the promised meal and change of clothes. Smaller Yetis help him dress in threads of the finest silks. They feel like heaven on his sensitive skin. Tim feels soft and warm all over, pampered beyond belief.

It's been so long since he just had a moment to rest.

He asks for a walk which he is only permitted after Frostbites clears him. It's while he is wandering that he realizes he is in some winter castle. Everywhere he looks, there is ice, snow, and yetis.

He notices all the guards and makes mental maps of possible weak spots. He wonders why he's not freezing despite only being in a thin silk robe. A form of magic?

A few yetis- servants he can tell by their mannerisms- bow as he wanders about. He can't tell where he is based on the sun or the environment. It's....somehow different.

"That's him?" A young female voice asks. He turns his head slightly to catch the speaker in his provisional vision. It's one of the smaller Yetis....he assumes she's a child? Hard to tell when she still towers over him. "The Great One's future spouse?"

"Yes, I heard King Frostbite, himself, tell the Head Butler"

"He's weak," another Yeti says with disapproval. He sounds male but young as well. Not even a teenager. "He does not even have a core."

"He is a human." A much older voice replies. She sounds like Tim's age based on vocal cords. "Humans are not meant to have cores. Despite this he is a formidable fighter. He has to be to have attracted the Great One's eye."

"Maybe not. I heard humans enjoy being cared for like children. They even call partners things like Mommy and Daddy."

"Why?" The boy Yeti sounds horrified.

"Apparently it's seen as attractive"

"That's disgusting."

Tim turns a corner cutting off the conversation as the Yetis snap to attention. They bow low at the waist as he walks by.

He nods at them, which seems to startle a lot of them. Not that he's surprised. The AL Ghuls likely treated them like decorations and never fully acknowledged them.

Tim barely hears the young boy gasp. "He's beautiful."

"That's likely why the Great One is so bestowed."

Tim sighs walking back to his room with a escape plan half formed.

Elsewhere, the rumor mill in the Ghost Zone is running over time as news of King Phantom's human husband-to-be is spread far and wide. Leaders of the Ghost Zone quickly prepare for a ball that will likely be called to celebrate the union.

They have gifts gathered, each wanting to gain favor with the King. The Far Frozen gets overwhelming requests to visit the future Consort, but seeing as King Phantom had to return to the human world, thus leaving his fiancé in their care, they reject all. They do not want the boy to be overwhelmed or caught unawares if he is not tried in any form of politics.

It would not allow him to become a threat to the King's authority's pawn.

This led to even more rumors starting.

By the time they reached John Constine- the only human who has any form of contact with the Realms- the word is that King Phantom's human was currently carrying their child, wanting to marry before the baby was born, and that he was running from a group of humans known as "The Bats."

He was as beautiful as the King Phantom was powerful- which meant he was utterly breathtaking for a human- and that King Phantom was currently in the human world hunting down those who threaten his family.

Across the dimension plane, Danny is blissfully unaware of the misunderstanding as he is busy filling out college scholarship applications. He has only one more year before he graduates, but he would like to go somewhere away from Amity Park.

The Wayne Scholarship is a long and lengthy process, but it will be worth it. A full ride with board and meals? Yes, the housing will be in Gotham but it's a small price to pay.

He wonders if his number one fan has awakened. Frostbite would have contacted him if his guest had escaped the coma.

Tim Drake had been asleep for nearly a week, only kept healthy due to Danny bathing him in his Protective Core ectoplasm and the Yeti's multi-species medical knowledge. As it were, Tim appeared to only be taking a small nap, none of the adverse effects of long slumber appearing on his thin body, but Danny was getting worried.

At this point, he didn't even care how Tim knew his secret. He just wanted him to be alright.

A flash of green light causes Danny to spring away from his laptop, body falling into a natural fighter's stance only to blink at the giant gift wrap present laying on his bed. Cautiously he inspects the gift finding it from Princess Dora.

"May your love lead the Realms into a wonderous future, and may your union bear many children." He reads the small note she had attracted to her gift "What children?"

Pulling open the gift, he stares at two sets of King robes decorated with rubies shaped into snowflakes. More miniature robes and a few booties surround the pair, obviously meant as a family gift.

Tuck to the side of the box is a long and deadly-looking sword. It's pitch black, with a scull as a handle. Dora had tired a scroll to its blade, where she had written My armies are ready to yield to you. You need only to swing this sword, and they shall come to your aid. The Bats will not harm your treasure.

What in the world?

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Phantom's number 1 fan #Tim unleased a love story onto the beings of enterity #Danny is super confused #Somewhere John is freaking out about a possible war #Tim does not remember stopping at Danny's

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