#first prompt

[perilusjax]

DP X DC prompt

[Anyone else can make a fic about this I am not a good at writing full fics]

Danny is the ghost king and has been given the title of Hope by Pandora, making him her son. 5 starts calling Danny Elpis, after the original one faded when Pariah Dark became a Tyrant.

A few years later, an older Danny is summoned as Elpis by The Justice League. The Red Lanterns have come to Earth and needed help from hope. When Danny saw Saint Walker he said

" My child, who is full of hope, you must open your heart to me. So, the acidic rage may fade from the hearts of the enemy"

Walker did not hesitate to accept, and when Danny possessed him, Saint Walker, the first Blue Lantern, was full of

HOPE

[local-critter]

Welcome again, and I was wondering if I could get a Hc for how you think the M6 would react to an Mc who has wings.

Winged MC

Asra

Upon your first meeting, he thought they were part of an elaborate costume since you met during a Masquerade

But when you continued to meet and they got to know you more they realized those wings were very real

He was so curious at first, but I think he’d be hesitant to ask many questions for fear of making you uncomfortable or scaring you off

They got used to them quickly and just accepted that your wings were a part of you like an arm or leg 

When you both lived together, he learned how to move around them while working with you

Helping you clean and groom them was one of your favorite ways to bond

Post Plague, your wings were in poor condition, but Asra could no longer help you groom them; it would send you straight into a catatonic state, to relive such tender and intimate moments; you’d remember too much and you’d be in agony

He had to painstakingly teach you how to care for your wings, how to stretch them out and exercise them because like any muscle they could atrophy

After the whole mess with Lucio and The Devil was done, he was overjoyed to be able to care for your wings again

It always felt very intimate and after having to leave you so much, he was desperate to reform a bond with you as equals and not caretaker/patient 

Prime time for cuddles, which they take full advantage of

Faust loves burrowing in the pile of old feathers

Julian

  Had no clue while you were working under him in his clinic

They were hidden under the plague doctor uniform you had to wear to avoid getting sick

He most likely didn't find out, whether you hid them or not, until the end of the whole fiasco 

Both of you were too busy trying to survive for him to notice and for you to notice he hadn't yet 

As soon as he did notice, he was shocked

Bro was NOT expecting that

He kind of wants to study your anatomy but is nervous to ask, doesn’t want to sound weird or scare you off

Briefly gets flashbacks to Valdemar ‘studying’ the corpses during the height of the plague 

He’s nervous around your wings because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable; he is as stiff as a board and tense whenever you stretch them out

He loves you too much to scare you off

Once you give him permission to touch them, he relaxes a lot more

He really likes to run his hands through the soft feathers at night when the day is done and he can just relax and spend time with his lover

Malak tries to groom you like you’re his kid

Nadia

She didn’t notice during your first meeting, she was exhausted and running on adrenaline when she just started banging on your door

The following day though, when you came to the Palace, she did realize and she was shocked; she’d never seen anyone like you before 

First things first, she wanted to talk to you about your needs and how she could best accommodate you as your host

She’s very mindful of them and is as respectful as possible but she’s also so so curious and is practically begging (mentally) for permission to touch them

Every outfit she has made for you is made with your wings in mind

She admires them a lot, she thinks they’re beautiful 

Whenever you two bathe together or whenever she has enough free time she sits down with you to groom them and make sure they’re nice and pampered 

It’ll take her a while to muster up the courage to ask if you could maybe take her flying but if you say yes she’d be super giddy and excited

Chandra feels jealous for a few minutes before you get to know each other and then she loves you

Muriel

 He didn’t know until the trip south; prior to that he’d do the bare minimum of checking in on you to appease Asra

He had no idea how to address them and just chose not to eventually 

He did feel a sort of kinship with you because he was different and felt ostracized because of it and he saw how the people in your neighborhood avoided you

During the trip and training, if Morga made a negative comment he would glare at her until eventually he got used to your presence enough to actually speak up and tell her to leave you alone

He’s aware of them constantly, whenever he’s around you and he makes sure to never so much as brush against them

You worry he’s nervous around them or thinks they’re weird

In reality, he just wants to respect your boundaries and refuses to touch them until he’s given express permission

Once he is though, he caresses your soft feathers as gently as he can, utter adoration in his eyes

He just melts

His face cycles through a dozen different emotions once you ask for his help with grooming because, on one hand, he wants nothing more than to treat you like he wishes he’d been treated as a child, with love and care

He wants to treat you gently, to hold you and help you

But on the other hand, he’s so scared

His hands are covered in so much blood that he’s so scared of hurting such a delicate part of you

Once you convince him though, grooming becomes his favorite thing to do

The chickens have accepted you as one of your own, they swarm you on sight now

Portia

She was so excited when she first met you

She’d already heard from the Countess that you were a powerful magician, so she had high expectations for you

And then she met you and you had wings? She was over the moon

She immediately grabbed the nearest one and stretched it out a little to get a closer look at the feathers 

Probably startled you a little ngl

You were not expecting that

You’d gotten a large variety of reactions to your wings but never one quite like hers

You probably took a step back and told her to give you your space because not many people are okay with a total stranger just grabbing them randomly 

Over the course of your adventure though, you get more used to her and she gets more used to magic

Once you two start dating she likes to brag a little about how she’s with such a cool magician, she’s very proud of you and of all you’ve accomplished together 

Portia definitely has a pretty thorough self-care routine and she makes sure you do too

She takes your grooming very seriously and takes time off whenever necessary to help you care for your wings

Pepi makes a pile of discarded feathers and likes to roll/nap in it

Lucio

They were practically the first thing he noticed about you

He was afraid at first that you were a demon he'd made a deal with and you'd come to collect 

Once you'd bound his spirit to you though, he thought you were good 

Your wings were one of the first things he touched as soon as he had a physical body again; they looked so soft 

He thinks they’re badass 

Loves bragging about them to whoever will give him the time of day

He wants to groom your wings with you so bad but he's terrified of hurting you with his metal arm

He pouts about it

He hates the cold so he cuddles up to you as much as he can the further south you go or the closer winter gets 

The dogs love playing with your wings

If you stretch your wings out they both jump up to try and bite them

They typically succeed too 

[hauntingrabbits]

comic

[amypihcs]

AAAnd I ended up writing something for this and for the first day of cozytober.

You’re back home

As much as it could be seen as a dismissal, as a lack of appreciation for one’s services, Sherlock Holmes couldn’t but be happy about his husband’s discharge.

He had known of it for at least one day more than his dearest had, working in the intelligence offered striking possibilities when one was showing up to the office and not only working from home, but he had only left London on his own leave when Watson’s letter had arrived.

And there he was, in Sussex, enjoying the sweet October sunshine in the year of our Lord nineteen-seventeen from atop the railing he and Watson had built more than 10 years prior, waiting for his Captain.

Dr Watson wasn’t surprised to not find Holmes waiting for him at the station with their car, it was their agreement. No station Welcomes and Goodbyes as having to stifle their feelings in those moments would have certainly made them more painful. He breathed in deeply the fresh country air and set off for his walk toward their bee-house, as Holmes called it.

Nothing could be better than half an hour of evening walk toward home, or rather, nothing but seeing one’s husband jump down from a railing and grin from ear to ear as one walks into one’s own garden.

Neither of them properly ran toward the other, they weren’t as young as that any more as much as Holmes’ athletics still belied his true age. Holmes waited for him and Watson dove into his arms, breathing in deeply, relaxing after months of tension as he felt his husband’s strong, thin arms around his shoulders and his solid, sinewy body in his arms.

“I missed you.” He sighed, breathing in his scent, tobacco, lemons, aftershave.

Holmes broke the hug with a smile. “I missed you too.” He answered, then he kissed him, his hands buried in his hair, moaning as he felt his Watson’s arms tighten once more on his back as he answered the kiss with just as much vigour.

“I’m back home.” Gasped Watson when they separated out of need for air.

“You are, my dearest. – Holmes’ breath was just as laboured as he replied, ruffling his husband’s hair with his fingers. – Short hair doesn’t suit you my love.”

“It will grow again, I also liked it better before this war. Is that my vest?” Chuckled the doctor, well used to his husband’s sometimes strange demonstrations of affection.

Holmes laughed as he played with his Watson's uniform’s belt and buttons. “How did you deduce?”

It was a game, of course, their game. “It’s too large on you, my darling, and a bit too short. Also, you have no clothes of this colour. – The doctor stroked one of his Holmes’ sharp cheekbones. – You needn’t look so worried, Holmes. What do you deduce of me?”

Holmes smiled once more, and in that golden light he looked just like the young chemist he was when they had met. “You lost almost a stone, but you will be better in some weeks. You need to sleep properly as you are quite tired. Those dark circles under your eyes speak of anxiety, my John, and of pain. I could say your leg more than your shoulder, if I didn’t know that you’ve been hurt two weeks ago…” Holmes let his voice fade softly as he moved his hand to his husband’s side.

“It’s but a graze, my dear. Some shrapnel during a rescue mission, I barely noticed it until I had finished with the poor chap’s surgery. It’s but a scratch, I stitched it close myself.”

“I should like to check for it myself, my dear. As much as I know that your stitches are the best, you must have hidden it from your subordinates for quite a long time to end up stitching it on your own.” He stated

“Those boys were shaking already, I couldn’t let them know that I was hurt. – Watson kissed his husband again and then placed a warning finger on his lips. – I will let you fuss, my dear fellow, but only after some good tea and in preparation for a proper bath.” He smiled.

Mr Holmes grinned at the proposition and lead his husband inside, draping himself on his shoulders as soon as they reached the kitchen. “We are home now, John.”

“Yes. Yes, we are, my dearest Sherlock.” Answered the doctor.

dr watson in his 60s, tanned by the sussex sun, returns to his old service on the outbreak of WW1

this outfit is not historically accurate at all, but i really wanted to draw how i imagined watson in the gorgeous WW1 era h/w fic The Presbury Letters

+ bonus homecoming to angry bee husband

[1artemis7]

Prompt #1?

Sinking boat

And the waves grow and grow and the boat rocks in the swell, the lightening growls. The first of us fall in the deep black followed by barrels. The smell of flames is getting to my nose, the sail burning and the wind whistling in my ears, and we go, and go deeper. There is no one here to be. We disappear in the sea. I heard a cry and a scream, the wood going down in the water, the light of his flames dying. The night is silent. The cold in his bones is the only sign of life he can feel. And the salt. He feels something. Cold. Way too cold.

Water.

In his lungs.

Breath. Can't breath. Can't. Can't. Can't.

The sea in his eyes, in his mouth, in his thoughts. And it's all. All that he can think.

Water.

Water.

Water.

Until he doesn't.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[mischievous-thunder]

They say what you do to someone is what happens to you in another reality~

What remains the same is the undeniable tension of different sorts between the two

[vinestaff]

for what it's worth, i was telling the truth when I said I enjoyed working with you

[yeoldenews]

A selection of strange and cryptic personal ads from The New York Herald, 1860s to 1890s. 14/?

[imma-bunni]

Bunnies on rooftops 2.0 ♡♡ This is a redraw of the very first Untamed fanart I ever drew! ♡♡♡

[r3ynah]

NU UH

Jack Fenton, dialed his younger sister's phone number as he gazed apologetically at the family of bats, that was hanging around in his living room. he impatiently waited for the other party to pick up.

The Bat family remained stoic as they observed the man, they had or Batman had ordered to put the call on speaker, if ever the phone was answered, Robin had stared at the doorway leading to the kitchen there stood Jack's supposed oldest daughter Jazz. who only stared amused at her father's antics much to Robin's confusion.

finally after a grueling 10 seconds wait, the call was finally answered.

Robin held his breath awaiting for the voice he was expecting for.

"Yes, Ahki?" Talia's voice resonated, from the phone. making everyone's eyes except the Fenton family widen.

'what? mother never told me she had a brother.' Damian thought as he took a peek at his father's face who was scrunched up in confusion. same for the rest of his family.

"Talia, my dear ukht, I've heard from a few birds and bats that you have taken my son. on his fieldtrip." Jack said, his nervous and outgoing personality vanishing and what took place was a serious and angry tone of a father as soon as heard the caller's voice, making everyone in the room shudder at the sudden cold atmosphere while the oldest daughter remained composed and unbothered as she watched.

Silence came from the other side of the phone, before answering "It seems i have." Talia answered back, you can here the voice of a boy in the background asking if it was his dad.

"Stop with this false innocence of yours, bring my son back immediately, partly alive and safe." Jack stated, much to the Bats and birds confusion.

Silence once again, as the phone remained quiet seemingly put down on a table with a few whispers and shuffling. before it was picked up once again.

"Nu uh." was the only thing Talia said as she hang up.

everyone paused.

"The fuck you mean 'Nu uh'?!" Jack yelled, at his phone. While his wife walked their daughter's side who was laughing her ass off, confused she looked at the bats then at her husband and then just sighed.

"Dinner's Ready." she only said as she retreated back at to the kitchen.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Alfred sprits the windows with cleaning solution as he pretended not to notice the boy sneaking around the manor grounds.

The boy had black hair and blue eyes, characteristics of what the young masters would call, "adoption bait." The boy bent down near a rustling bush and whispered just loud enough for Alfred to overhear, "Cujo! You can't keep sneaking in here. You're going to get caught." The boy then pulled an excited glowing green puppy from the bush. Ah. So that must be the creature Master Damian had been attempting to capture for the past few weeks. The poor boy had been near obsessed with proving the beasts existence to his brothers.

Regardless, he should probably have a word with the young man. "May I inquire the reason for your visit?"

The boy jumped and spun around, the puppy half held, half dangling from his armed perked up in alert, as if sensing Alfred as a threat. It might have been alarming if the puppy wasn't so small and cute.

"Uh, just dropping by?" He said, the words coming out as a question. To this, Alfred raised an eyebrow.

The young man's shoulders sagged, as if accepting whatever fate would inevitably come, "How much trouble am I in?"

[taco-rambles]

DC XDP prompt: Danny falls out of a portal literally into Batmans arms in a JL meeting.

Feel free to play with this. I probably will write more, but I'm STUCK and don't know how to write the JL or anyone else for that matter.

XXX

The Justice League meeting had gone very well. For once there were no major crisis from anyone attending, and all of the regular members of the league were in attendance. A few of the second row hero’s had begged off for one reason or another, but nothing that was a threat of any real kind.

Batman was wary, and on edge as the meeting wrapped up. It was never this simple, it just couldn’t be. There was always some kind of threat to keep an eye on, but the worst thing that had come up during the meeting were routine security updates.

No one else seemed to be on edge from the far too calm, routine meeting, and Bruce had just about convinced himself that it was really just one of those meetings where nothing outrageous would happen. It was ideal even…

Then the alarms went off, in the specific modulation that indicated a magical incursion.

Batman wasn’t the only one who’s hands went to weapons when the portal materialized above the meeting room table only a moment after the alarm went off. Swirling lazarus green had him ready for the fight even as the rest of the league went into defensive positions around the incursion.

“What…” Flash started to ask about a minute later when nothing had happened yet, the alarms still blaring.

That’s when something came flying out of the portal, at speed, back first.

Batman had a split second to decide to attack… or not. A split second to try to process the impressions and decide if this was an attack.

The portal closed as he cradled the small body that had crashed into his arms, the alarms silencing a moment later as the rest of the league tried to catch up, all of them wondering if this was some new threat.

Batman looked down at the child in his arms, a boy in his mid teens and small for his age, with white hair framing a frighteningly familiar looking face, gently pointed ears, and fangs in a mouth that gasped for breath against pain. The eyes were closed, twisted tight as the child clutched at his chest and belly, holding together severed flesh that leaked lazarus green blood from a clinical and too regular wound. Fingers tipped with small claws spasmed, tears coming from closed eyes.

“Batman?” Wonder Woman asked, Diana’s voice filled with concern as Bruce wrapped the child in his arms and stood up from where he had been knocked on his ass catching said child.

“Call down to medical. Severely wounded unknown,�� he snapped, moving towards the door, only to stop as there was a flash of light in his arms, and the child suddenly gained a solid weight that was closer to human. The blood dripping from passed out hands was now brilliant red, fingertips blunt with chewed nails, the boy’s skin going from pale white to… a healthier tone.

Bruce consciously stopped cataloging his observations then, swiftly making his way to medical. Whatever this boy was, whether he intended to tug at Batman’s heart the way he was or not, was severely wounded and needed medical attention immediately.

He could process it all, and wonder why a child looking exactly like Damian Wayne had been thrown into his arms through a lazarus portal later.

XXXXX

An hour later, after a discreet call to his youngest just to be sure, Bruce watched the now sedated child in the medical cot, working on trying to face match the databases and find out if the child came from earth or not.

The searches primarily turned up Damian Wayne. Bruce knew for certain this child was not his son, but he was also running a DNA analysis because this Might be his son. It made a disheartening amount of sense for this boy to be another version of Damien, perhaps from another dimension, or some manner of clone, or perhaps Talia had simply hidden another child of his away… Bruce needed to narrow down the possibilities, to find the truth.

Of course, it was equally possible that this boy was some manner of mimic, taking on a form that would ensure his safety in unknown environment, a shape shifter intentionally injuring himself in order to infiltrate the Watchtower. Though that last theory didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. Most shape shifters would be secure enough in their abilities to simply try to mimic someone who already had access to the watch tower, to say nothing of the boy’s dramatic entrance.

Batman wasn’t thinking logically. Bruce couldn’t simply leave the boy here though. Not until he knew more, everything relevant by preference. The thought that this might be his son in any way was enough to keep him near, but he could already tell he was compromised.

He had already informed Diana and Clark, and both of them had agreed that he should stay nearby until they had the situation sorted out.

Bruce had been stuck in a circular though pattern for about fifteen minutes when a green form came into the room, J’onn looking at him calmly.

“Can you find anything out?” Batman asked without preamble, unable to bring himself to observe polite pleasantries when he was so unsettled.

“Nothing beyond surface thoughts. The boy’s mind is static and pain of the emotional kind,” J’onn stated after a moment.

Batman nodded, accepting the answer. J’onn’s abilities weren’t always the answer to everything, could indeed often be a crutch that led to the wrong answers. But they could also give the Justice League a starting point often enough.

“You should rest friend. It is unlikely that the boy will awaken soon…” J’onn cut himself off with a quiet look at the boy. “Or not. He’s coming around.”

Batman watched as the child’s eyes blinked open, drowsy expression turning to the two heros without much recognition. Bruce didn’t let himself react, kept himself in a calm pose even as his mind once more went into overdrive.

The boy had blue eyes, not green like Damian's.

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

The ring was small and silver with a single emerald embedded in the metal.

It wasn’t something flashy, it probably cost less than the smallest gem from his vault all together.

But it was perfect.

Which made it so heartbreaking to turn it down.

“Dick.. you know me so well.. I wish I could take this ring, i really do.”

Dick was still on one knee in the little apartment, but he put the small box down on the floor as he asked.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Danny let out a bitter chuckle,

“The US government.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage [pt.2]

[<- part 1 | part 3 ->]

Tim doesn't remember what happened. What he does remember is that he was in the middle of an apocalypse with no idea how to survive it, a few of his friends and family dead, and clinging to the last possible resort with no hope it would actually make a difference.

He remembers thinking whatever happened next could not be worse than what he's already been through.

And then, he remembers an unfamiliar voice, a cheeky grin, and a light so bright he had to squint his eyes shut not to be blinded.

When he opened them again, he was back in the Cave, and, as he found out a few moments later, when a panicking Dick ran up to him and attempted to squeeze the dear life out of his body with a crushing hug, back in time by three weeks. With the whole recollection of what happened before- Well, after that.

And, it was not only him who got to keep all the important memories. The rest of the Bats remembered everything as well, and the League, and even a few others, all of whom were somehow connected to said apocalypse, which had not yet happened.

Tim looked down to the Ring.

He did not tell anyone why or how they got a second chance.

A month later, with the crisis safely averted and his anxiety buzzing under his skin, Tim locked himself up in the Nest, pressed his lips to the cold metal on his finger once again, and whispered a quiet, "Thank you."

He did not know what he expected in response, but certainly not a snort right by his ear and an incorporeal voice that seemed to come from every direction at once.

"You're welcome." It was not ominous, not solemn or anything of sorts. If anything, the voice sounded like Duke whenever Tim thanked him for a fresh cup of coffee the boy brought to the Cave for him. Entirely unbothered and offhanded, and a little bit fond, like somehow saving Tim's whole world was not a big deal.

Well, maybe it wasn't, for whoever the voice belonged to.

Tim looked at the Ring again. Then, he looked around, not sure how to proceed. As far as his analysis went, the King - because who else it might have been? - did not want anything in return, nor did they intend on keeping in contact. And, technically, that was probably a good thing. Because, yeah, right, any normal and sane person would prefer to stay away from getting unnecessarily involved with beings of immeasurable power.

However, Tim did not think of himself as either normal or sane.

So, he clicked his tongue, annoyed and on the verge of pouting, "Really? That's it? 'You're welcome'?"

For a second, nothing happened.

Then, there was a startled, surprised snort of laughter, and, a moment later, a boy floating in the air a few feet away from Tim.

Tim blinked. The supposed almighty monarch of Infinite Realms, Keeper or Worlds and whatever, did not look particularly kingly. If anything, he looked very much unkingly.

Not much older than Tim - so, twenty or somewhat around it - wearing something that he'd expect Jason to wear on a daily basis. Cargo pants, an unzipped jacket with its sleeves rolled up, a t-shirt with some rock band logo, none of which exactly screamed 'royalty' to Tim. There was a matter of floating, of course, and the boy's hair was so white that it actually hurt to look at it directly, but other than that, the King looked...

Almost absurdly normal.

He was also holding a big, although already half-empty cup of bobba milk tea, and lazily reclining in the air without a care in the world.

"You want some?" The boy asked when he caught Tim staring at his drink.

Tim blinked. The vision of a floating boy in his living room did not disappear.

"I, um," he stammered over words, searching for any kind of answer, and then shook his head, "No, thanks?" The words came out more like a question than a statement. The boy pursed his lips and shrugged.

"Your loss. It's from the best place ever," he paused, looking up to the ceiling and frowning, "I don't think it exists in this timeline."

Tim shakes his head again, like trying to kickstart his thought process. It doesn't work.

"So, you're..." he trails off, and the boy startles before moving in the air and shifting so his feet actually touch the ground. His hair and jacket still both act like gravity doesn't exist.

"Oh, right. I forgot I never introduced myself," he gives Tim a sheepish grin, "It's kind of strange, seeing that I did spend about three years around you. I'm Danny, or Phantom," he offers Tim a hand and then tilts his head slightly, "But never Daniel, for the record."

That is honestly too much information in just three sentences. Tim shakes the offered hand - which is way too cold to be actual human hand - mostly on reflex.

"I'm Tim," he adds dumbly, and Danny grins.

"Yeah, I know."

Which brings Tim back to what the boy said before, and he frowns.

"Wait, you said you've spent three years around me?" That means, since around the time Tim first put the Ring on, if he is not mistaken. The boy rubs the back of his neck.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see who you were before I made myself known, but your family is a really nosy bunch, and you're quite literally never alone, and I kind of didn't want to scare you, so..."

"So you stalked me for three years," Tim finishes the sentence when Danny trails off. The boy grimaces and makes a so-so expression.

"I mean, you all did think I was some kind of an eldritch monster that's going to spirit you away or something. Showing up unannounced would be awkward at the least," he reasons. Tim can't argue with it when he puts it that way.

So, instead, he reaches for the cup in Danny’s hand and snatches it away, taking a sip before the boy is able to protest. It does taste like the best bobba he tried, so there's that.

"Are you?" He asks, tapping the straw on his chin as Danny floats up again, seemingly unbothered about the stolen drink. Looks like keeping his feet on the floor is either uncomfortable or rather unnatural for him.

"Am I what?" Danny raises one eyebrow.

"An eldritch monster?" Tim clarifies, and, between one moment and another, the sight of the semi-normal, albeit floating, guy in front of him distorts like a glitching video. Glimpses of bright, neon green eyes, sharp, inhuman teeth, and shadows crawling around the room fill Tim's vision, making him gasp sharply, but all of that is gone as soon as he blinks. Danny shrugs.

"I can be," he admits easily, "But most of the times, I'm not."

Tim looks at him thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes and taking another long sip of the drink. The bobba pearls taste vaguely like mango when he chews them.

On one hand, this is a very much unknown, possibly dangerous magic creature. On the other, the creature's name is Danny, and he does have a good taste for food, so how bad can it really be?

"Cool," he shrugs finally, offering the cup back, "Wanna go out some time?"

Danny smiles so bright that Tim can't help but return it and takes the almost empty drink, his fingers brushing over Tim's.

"I thought you'd never ask," he snorts.

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade's POV:

Logan's POV: