#Pressure Crossover

[puppetmaster13u]

Y'all have no idea how tempted I was to give him four arms like my ancient of space design lol

He's about 2'9" unless you include the full length of his tail, in which case he's about 7' (yes he's mostly tail lol)

If You Want the Colors Here

[brain-of-rain]

Yes, this is a totally normal evolved sea animal, just like all the other dominant species of the current year. There is absolutely no way that this merchant is actually the last “human” left alive. Even though no one knows what species he is or seen anything like him before… I’m sure it’s fine.

Anyways, I put Sebastian in Splatoon, now all who scroll past may witness the consequences of my free will.

[awkward-clone]

this is just how I imagine it going lol

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[ghostbsuter]

Inspired by that one episode in Young Justice.

—

"You could leave with me," 'Gray' nods at him, there is the familiar, mischievous smile. Yet the sincerely in which he offers his hand, it reflects in his eyes.

Danny reflects back on his life, staring at his partner, how Freakshow had gotten him into this Circus in the first place.

"Where would we go?" He relents, grasping the offered hand to hold it simply. The weight of the appendage is calming for his racing heart.

'Gray' softens, leaning against him. Their outfifs– tight on their bodies, colourful for the eyes of the people. Ruffles, dark and gooey to fit the theme of the circus, showing more skin than comfortable– it was home.

After so long, it had become home and Danny isn't sure if he could leave it.

(Is that how Freakshow never lost any workers even after his staff broke? Did they become dependent on him just as he has?)

"Everywhere." His performance partner replies, reassures with his presence and Danny soaks it in.

They would move tomorrow, but 'Gray' would not come along.

[kettlefire]

Age is but a Number (DPxDC)

Daniel Fenton was only thirteen months old when he took his first steps. Only fifteen months old when he said his first words. He was two years old when he uttered his first sentence.

Danny could walk back his whole timeline from the moment he opened his eyes into this world. Except, none of those moments counted. They held no true weight for Danny's life.

No, there were certain moments that mattered. That had a clear shift to his life. Not every moment, not every milestone mattered.

Danny was five years old when he first felt the sting of disappointment at his parents missing a school event. He was six years old when the lab door was closed in his face for the first time, but not the last time.

He was eight when his young mind realized who was the one raising him. The one feeding him, waking him up, getting him dressed, and dealing with his tantrums.

Danny was ten when he learned to love and hate his parents for the true first time. Seeing both the good and the bad in them, and still loving them despite it.

He was eleven when he watched his sister crack under the pressure. Stood teary-eyed in the doorframe of her bedroom as he watched her cry and sob. He was twelve when he got into his first real fight with his mother, hiding away at Tucker's place for a few nights.

Danny was fourteen years old when he stepped into his parents' portal. When he accidentally hit the on switch. When a combination of ectoplasm and electricity ruined his life.

He was only fourteen when he experienced death for himself. Felt his life force leave him, and flood him at the same time.

Danny was still only fourteen when his world changed. New powers and abilities appear out of thin air. When a crazed billionaire latched on to him. When Danny had taken the mantel of a hero without meaning to.

He was still just fourteen when his life was filled with constant fighting. Both ghostly and human. Things got more tense between Danny and his mother. School was a weight that Danny wasn't sure he could handle.

Danny was fifteen when he had an existential crisis. The weight of a looming crown he was meant to take on the moment he turned eighteen or died fully. Having witnessed timelines where his family was gone. Having recognized a pattern of repetition in a life that Danny didn't want.

He was still fifteen when he made an impulsive decision. It was stupid and rash. Something expected from an angsty teenage boy, and not from an heir to a throne and a town to protect.

There had been no big fight. No big showdown. His parents still didn't know his secret. Danny hadn't bothered telling Tucker, Sam, or Jazz about his great plan. One moment, Daniel Fenton was in Amity Park. The next moment, he was gone without a trace.

Danny is just a fifteen year old boy, perched on a hill miles away from home. He didn't know what he was doing or what he was going to do. He didn't even know what state he was in.

He had just flown through the sky, a bag of emergency supplies slung over his shoulder. Danny had no intentions of stopping. That was until he stumbled cross a state line, and felt it.

A strong sense of caring and love. A feeling that Danny could only compare to the love he felt from Jazz. There was a strangeness in the air, but also a feeling of home. It drew Danny in like a moth to a flame.

Danny was just fifteen, curled up on a damp hill. Staring up into the night sky, and wishing for things to be different.

Not completely different. He didn't want to get rid of Phantom. Didn't want his life to go back to how it had been. Danny wanted things to get better. He wanted to feel like a kid again, something he realized he hadn't felt in a long time. Despite Jazz's best efforts to shield him.

The first tear had left Danny before he even realized it. A shaking hand wiped the tear away, silently cursing at himself for being such a baby.

Except that wasn't the only tear. It was like a dam, he never knew was there, had broken. Tears streaked down Danny's cheeks faster than he could wipe them away. Choked muffled sounds quickly turned to harsh gasping sobs.

Danny was only fifteen when he finally broke. Curled up on a random hill in a random state in the middle of nowhere. A glowing young teenager whose glow only seemed to dull with each gut-wrenching sob. Yet the stars seemed to twinkle even brighter than ever on this countryside.

So lost in the whirlwind of emotions that Danny was too young to fully decipher, he never noticed the approaching vehicle. Didn't so much as flinch when it came to a stop near him.

Danny's pain radiated with each sound he made. With each tear that left his toxic eyes. There was seemingly no end to it all. Until a single voice managed to pierce through Danny's bubble.

"Oh, dear... It's just a boy. Quick, grab a blanket!"

A small, frail voice was all it took. A voice weathered with age, and a tremble to it. Danny's whole body froze, head lifting to look at the speaker.

Except his vision had been quickly covered for a brief moment as an old flannel blanket was suddenly wrapped around Danny's shoulders. It smelt of dirt, hay, and warmth.

A kind old woman quickly followed to take a seat beside the glowing teenager. A warm, loving smile on her lips as she brought a thermos to Danny. An equally old and warm man seemed to follow behind her.

Danny's sobbing had quieted as quickly as it had started. The teen was completely bewildered, stunned to silence. This old couple, the embodiment of the American dream, didn't so much as blink at the sight a glowing boy crying on their land.

She had called him a boy. She had called him a boy. Danny was just a boy to her. His hands trembled as he accepted the thermos, taking a drink from the still hot coco inside.

Danny's stunned silence must have spoken volumes. The old man had given out a chuckle, moving to stand beside his wife.

"Don't worry, bud. Our son is just as strange as you."

Danny was just fifteen years old when he stumbled onto the Kent farm. When John and Martha Kent stumbled upon a crying glowing boy. When a sweet old couple hadn't cowered in fear but instead embraced Danny. Offering kindness and comfort with no strings attached.

He was only fifteen when he found himself a new home. A new life. One where he didn't have to be anything more than a teenage trying his best. When his powers weren't needed, only appreciated. Never expected.

A life where a warm home-cooked meal and a mother's kiss seemed to greet him every morning and night. Where a father's touch seemed to linger in every tractor lesson, every game of catch, and every time Danny learned more about the farmer lifestyle.

Danny was fifteen when he found his family. When he met the equally kind son of an amazing couple. When he had someone willing to teach him how to handle his powers, but never expected him to.

But Danny was seventeen when his past came back. When a town and people he cared about, all came flooding back in. When the guilt and shame of abandoning them came flooding back in.

When his new picture, perfect life started to crumble around the edges. When he realized life never went well for a Fenton and Fenton-adjacent. The perfect safe bubble had to burst eventual.

And well, that's a story for another day.

[iguessimfished]

Pressure and lethal company crossover thing sigh

[xxl1ghtxx]

everyone hear me out...

anyways art dump

[medusas-graveyard]

Comfort In A Knight

There was an uproar in the infinite realms after they found out about the GIW's imprisonment of the crowned prince, and as an attempt to damage control, he decides to hold a temporary martial law over the dimension. Some are upset, of course; but all of them ultimately acknowledges the young ruler's attempts on not starting an interdimensional war.

A few months go by, and while the inhabitants of the infinite realms all calmed down from the initial uproar, ironically, the crowned prince is the one getting agitated by the meddling of humans. All the pressure of his monarch lessons so he could take the king mantel, civil conflict between different parts of the realm, and some extremist rebellions are slowly making him more tired, anxious, and easily agitated. The once lawful neutral prince has turned into someone who would get rid of anyone he deemed as a bug, squashed by the heel of his boots.

Tl:Dr; He's tired of everyone's bullshit.

.

So really, it's not a surprise to see his eldritch self bounded inside a summoning circle, surrounded by Justice League members because of course he is.

"What do you want."

He's really contemplating on going 'fuck it' and destroy earth right now.

...that is, before a familiar gruffy voice called out to him.

"That's enough, Charon."

He whipped his head (if you can call it that) to the direction of the voice, finding batman's figure walking closer to him, ignoring the yelling from other Justice League members.

Eventually, he drops his act and turn into the teenager the Batman is all too familiar with. The boy drops his hand below the golden ribcage nestled on his chest, the familiar white hair peeking out of his hood slightly move around non-existent air, as his Lazarus green eyes stared at the dark knight, causing his Calavera–painted face to scrunch.

The man didn't stop for a second as he trudged closer, only stopping when he's directly Infront of the ghost, all within arms reach.

"I'm right here."

For the first time in several months, the prince finds himself breaking down into a sob. He easily destroyed the (poor attempt of a) binds caging him, throwing himself to the Knight's body.

The rest of the League stared at them dumbfoundedly, before Batman eventually sighed.

"Justice league; Phantom. Crowned prince of the infinite realms."

"...And my ward."

Notes:

Reference on Danny's clothing

Yep. Another adoptee au

[gazumirei]

wakasagihime from hit doujinshi series touhou project is the mermaid ever

Also bonus doodle: sebastian solace meets wakasagihime

I will insert touhou into every piece of media I like and nobody can stop me 👹

[puppetmaster13u]

I colored Him <3

He gets eye patterns for defense against would-be predators & further misunderstandings

[awkward-clone]

it's beeennnn so lonnngggg since you last seen me posssttttt i've been listening to too many fnaf songs anyway-

have silly possessive masks :)

[agrumpyclover]

Messy sketch of a joke ship, obviously. My friends apparently fw Sebastian x Eclipse.

[ultimatesoupdemon]

do we fw the pressure parable

[themortaldraw]

july is disability pride month, here's a skord link that Needs Salt

[kingcrow01]

Marvel/DC Crossover Week | 2024

Day 3 | Team Red |  Morality Differences | “The metal of the human spirit is forged upon the anvil of sorrow.”

@marvel-dc-crossover-event

(Click for better quality and details!)

This is my last piece for this years event, and I am SO beyond happy with it! Particularly the coloring on DPs and RHs suits.

The dialogue:

Red Hood nudging a groaning Deadpool who ate too much: “You guys are such losers.”

Spider-Man: “Says the guy who moved cities to join Team Red.”

Red Hood: “I did not. Believe it or don’t, but New York has job opportunities.”

Spider-Man: “For a theater kid like you? What, gonna audition for Matilda on Broadway?”

Red Hood: “Fuck you, if I did, I would get the lead role and win every Tony Award possible–”

Spider-Man: “Oh my god, you’re such a nerd–”

Daredevil: “Would you two shut up–”

Barbara is absolutely listening to this through Jason's helmet and snickering to herself, imagining him as Matilda, brown wig, red bow and all.

Details!

burger frog! anyone recognize burger frog?

whoever guesses who C + S are gets a high five

yes, Jason did spray paint "Batman Sucks." Midway through making this, I had another idea of this Team Red spray painting together. I don't know who, but they'd be slandering someone.

family guy death pose

Bart and Miles were here

Things that could have been:

already-there simple graffiti art of original Team Red holding hands, but with a newly-added Red Hood at one end in a different color (all done by Deadpool)

as well as the food wrappers, they were going to be surrounded by obscure things they stole while fucking around the city: a Ouija board, some poor bastards steering wheel, Bucky's arm, maybe?

I was going to have them start stacking things on Deadpool, just to make them that much more irritating