He Likes ‘em Strong ☄️

Peter Parker in Gotham except he uses slang and phrases and references that no one understands and can only decipher from context clues. Peter: "-if you slice what I'm breading." Tim: ????? (This is probably just a Peter thing, lets be real here.) Peter, looking at a picture of a vigilante/rogue/whoever: "Damn, this is America's Ass now, I guess" Jason: "What?" Bruce, stressing out something important: "Do you understand me?" Peter: "As clear as Sue Storm." Bruce: ?? Dick: "Hey, I think lizards are awesome." Peter: "Is your name Curtis?" Dick: "Who the fuck is Curtis???"

Peter, watching a clip of the Joker and Batman where Joker goes "We're a lot alike, you and I" or something like that: "Okay, Mr. I'm Something Of A Scientist Myself." Barbara: ??? Duke, just watched Peter trip and smash his face into something (or something equally as embarrassing) and just staring at him sitting there: "You okay?" Peter: "I wish I could challenge Cyclops to a staring contest right now." Duke: "Do you know a cyclops??? Huh????"

Godling-DCxDP prompt

Many don't understand what it's like to gaze into the abyss. To truly know the haunting moment it gazes back. Even fewer can see still stand to throw themselves into that abyss.

Tim never understood why cultists worship monstrosities, being that promised the end of everything for nothing in return. He had seen the remnants of human sacrifices, rituals gone wrong, and man-made horrors beyond human comprehension. Part of him regretted agreeing to partner with Constantine to solve these cases. But another wanted to know more.

After searching through another half-destroyed tome he found something. A location to a summoning circle, an ancient one that these cultists were searching for. The one they needed to finally successfully summon their god.

But they got there too late. The cult had finished their ritual and the "god" they had summoned stood before them.

That god was...perfect. Disgustingly perfect, dreadfully beautiful, and horrifyingly enchanting. His mind etched every detail in his memory. It felt like his mind had conjured this person from his dreams, day and night. It was like looking at an illusion. But his eyes were a hellishly bright Lazarus green.

The cultist bowed to him and his smile, his perfect unnaturally white smile was full of soft warmth. Tim understood at that moment why they worshipped him. Their minds couldn't escape this web of divine energy. They were so enraptured by finally seeing prove of the divine.

"You all have done enough. Your souls will come with me. To the abyss." He said calmly as he waved his hand and each cultist dissappeared.

He sighed softly as he turned his gave to Tim and John.

"You offed 'em? I thought they were your followers." Constantine said gruffly.

"I have no followers. These souls have caused so much damage to this world. They can't be allowed to stay here."

"So you decided to rapture them?" Constantine raised an eyebrow.

"It's complicated. Yes, they did horrible things but if they hadn't discovered the tomes of the old king they wouldn't have ended up this way. Have pity on them. They are just mortals scared and confused searching for meaning. Like I was. I have sent them to the abyss. Their souls with dissipate into the void. There will be no pain. No eternal punishment. Just an end. They will be at peace, I promise. It is what they want." The god's voice echoed, his features rippled as he moved showing afterimages of alternate forms he used.

It was odd. Every fiber of Tim's being screamed for him to bow, to worship, and to give himself to this being. Yet, his feet remained stubbornly planted on the ancient dusty floor.

"Don't look directly at it," Constantine whispered hissed.

Right. You probably shouldn't stare at the otherworldy being that likely has mind warping abilities. Especially one that just said he erased his own followers from existence and saying it was a good thing.

"I'm really sorry. I should make it up to you. Clockwork will be pissed enough that I interfereed so I have to do something to at least make up for this mess."

"You can kick off by doing one and buggering off" Constantine said immediately.

"So cold. How about you? What do you want?"

"I think an explanation would help," Tim said only to get elbowed by Constantine.

"You ain't gotta know nothing, mate. The more we know, the dodgier it gets." Constantine said firmly. "Whatever you are, you need to bugger off. You’ll wreck the noggins of everyone around you."

"I don't mean to. I don't ask people to become obsessed with me or worship me. Mortals have such weak minds they cave at my presence. But I can't help it. I lost my human body recently and can't turn this off."

The being groaned but to human ears it was similar to a purr.

"Seriously, everything I do is filtered through some sensory thing that makes you little mortals think its the greatest thing ever no matter how simple. Touching you would probably melt your brain with how good it would feel. So the trench coat man is probably right."

"You said you lost your human body. How?" Tim asked still staring at the floor as he felt the godling came closer.

"A bad fight. My mortal form wasn't indestructible but saving my family made it more than worth it. But...I haven't seen them since. Im still getting used to this while thing. I just wanted to reach out and find some answers so i reached into this universe and well...you can probably tell what happened next. I just wanted to make it right and fix it. The other ancients said this was the best option and..."

Every moment he spoke the less godly he seemed.

Constantine still wasn't willing to help and had to drag Tim away. When Tim actually tried to look up the fodling was gone.

"Never do that again." The brit said sternly. "Now help me clean this mess up."

Ally in the Alley

So I was reading a story and suddenly got inspired so here’s dialogue for a random scene I had in my head of civilian Danny talking to Red hood while Oracle and the other bats were listening in through his com. So imagine Jason is either drunk, drugged, or injured enough he’s delirious.

“Ok ok, so bandages? Do you need bandages? Ok gimme a sec-wait…what are doing? No. Stop that. Helmet stays on.”

“Hnnn!”

“I’m serious! I-hey! Quit it!”

“Sss..hot”

“I do not care, helmet stays on. Nothing good ever comes from a civilian learning a vigilante’s identity. I-stop that! Will. You. Just- Nope! Nah uh, don’t you dare!”

Rustling sounds.

“NOOO! Aw 🦆! This is bad. This is so bad. My life is over. Oh GOD-oh wait, you have have a domino mask underneath.”

[ID: 10 panels of Jeff the land shark from Marvel comics on blue backgrounds.

1: Jeff, a small shark with short legs, wearing sunglasses over his head and winking 2:Jeff drawing intently, his tongue sticking out of his mouth 3:Jeff laughing and waving goodbye 4:Jeff turning over his empty pockets 5:Jeff dragging his blankie which has a pattern of deadpool logos 6:Jeff and Tippytoe hugging 7:Jeff turned towards the right waving 8:Jeff wearing a lab coat and playing with some unidentifiable purple chemical 9:Jeff jumping 10:jeff doing a pensive face END ID]

Jeff the land shark in It’s Jeff Infinity Comic by Gurihiru

Little star's favorite

It all started when Talia came to Gotham with a gift.

The gift in question was a twelve year old boy.

Bruce stared at the boy who was almost the exact replica of Damian if not for the blue eyes and longer hair. He looked utterly perplexed at the sight of Bruce, tilting his head before frowning at his mother with a visibly displeased look.

"Beloved, may I introduce you to Danyal, our Damian's twin brother. He was... Away... On a mission until recently." Talia hummed, a hand on Danyal's back.

"You... You didn't think to tell me about him when you told me about Damian?" Shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked down at the boy who looked a little more like him than Talia and felt himself softening. "Hello Danyal."

"Hello."

Talia smiled, before her expression fell. "A little warning, beloved. The twins do not get along. Damian is quite the competitive child and Danyal... Well, he's the nicer one if I must say." She shrugged, running her fingers through her son's hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Go on now, Najmi As-Sagheer (my little star)."

"Ummi... Must I join them? I am perfectly fine with remaining in the league." Danyal muttered, eye twitching but his expression was quickly schooled into neutrality.

"Yes, Danyal." She sighed, "I have no intention of letting father keep you."

Bruce raised a brow at her words.

"That is a conversation for another time, habibi." Talia lazily insisted, gently pushing Danyal towards Bruce.

Bruce, for all he's lived, immediately recognized a feral cat in the form a child. Yep. Another Damian. That was seemingly the nicer one.

But he was scruffy little thing who was being called little star by his mother. Bruce blinked, offering his hand to Danyal (like how a person would do by letting a cat sniff his hand to see if they were safe).

Danyal, more twitchy and annoyed than his brother, looked at the hand like it had personally offended him.

And that is how Batman brought home another child while holding him by the scruff.

(Danny hated everyone except for Alfred—both cat and butler)

Danyal was a much quieter person compared to Damian. Unlike his brother who had practically came into their lives guns blazing and declaring that he was the rightful heir to the bat, Danyal mainly ignored them. He would glare, snarl, and scowl, but not in the way Damian did. The kid was obviously threatened by them, but more for his own safety rather than inheritance.

He avoided them like the plague, only welcoming the company of Alfred and occasionally Cass.

He didn't join in on the vigilante business, opting to stay back with Oracle and just quietly direct them on their missions. It was strange in all honesty.

They didn't know much about Danyal, aside from the fact that his mother called him little star for his natural love of space. That he liked to tinker with gadgets and make his own weapons. That he really liked fudge.

Aside from that, the kid was quiet and was usually hiding out in his room.

Tim wasn't particularly thrilled to have another demon brat in the family. He avoided Danyal as much as possible expecting for the boy to be just like his brother and attack him.

But apparently not.

It's one of those unfortunate times that Tim's sleep deprivation and overload on energy drinks gets him benched by Alfred and not Bruce. No one particularly wanted to argue with their beloved butler/grandpa so Tim was stuck in place. It was a much quieter night than usual, almost peaceful (as much as Gotham can get).

Babs was relieved of her duties to have a night off, rest and relax and such, while Tim manned the bat computer in Oracle's place. He almost didn't notice the mop of black hair that suddenly appeared beside him.

Tim didn't want to admit it, but he flinched at Danyal's presence and how he was quietly standing there with a tray of coffee and cookies. Blue eyes blinked at him, silently pushing the tray forward to offer Tim the lone cup (most likely for him) and the plate of cookies.

Suspicious, Tim narrowed his eyes. "Alfred wouldn't make me coffee after benching me for this kind of thing."

Danyal shrugged, "Made it myself. Thought you'd need it since the others will be gone for a while."

"That's poisoned."

"It's not." Danyal frowned, immediately taking the cup and taking a couple sips himself before once again offering it to Tim.

Now, Tim wasn't stupid enough to ignore the possibility of Danyal having some tolerance to poison. But Tim was also tolerant to a lot of poisons so might as well.

When taking one sip, he was already feeling weird. One, there was no poison. Two, it was actually pretty good.

Danyal just sat there and stared at the screen, munching on cookies and pointing at the screen whenever Robin started to stray from the patrol route. Tim had a lot of fun reportingtattling to Bruce about it.

Eventually, it became a routine.

Danyal always sat beside Tim. Quiet and just offering random stuff, either food, some little gadget he made, or just the most bizarre stuff he found while at school.

Tim learned many things about his weird little brother. How cameras go crazy around him. How he had his reasons for not being touched. How Danyal was more silent than Cass. How Danyal vanished and reappeared at times.

(The glowing green eyes were the most concerning.)

He never really took notice of how Danyal started to gravitate to him. Always with him, barely without.

(Tim refused to admit that he was just the same.)

"Can I go on patrol with you?" Danyal asked, tugging at his Red Robin suit with a curious look. "I wanna meet Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn."

And Tim didn't really see much of a problem with that. Danyal was a highly trained assassin that Ra's apparently trusted to go on a solo mission while Damian had to be whisked away from the league. It wasn't too absurd for Tim to just shrug and let his kid brother tag along.

He was also very sure that his baby brother was an eldritch being with how the shadows seemed to rise around him. Yeah, the baby was a cryptid amongst a family of supposed cryptids. Very fitting.

It's a nice night. With Danny running amok with Tim, clearly having fun. But that one looks of sadness didn't escape Tim when Danny paused and looked to the sky with longing.

Tim remembers how Danny rambled about the stars in their shared moments, where it's just them.

Tim remembers how Danny would describe the sky in Nanda Parbar and how he often snuck out just to see it.

Tim remembers how much his little brother likes space and turns to the cloudy sky of Gotham that hides the stars.

Tim remembers how he was often depraved of the brotherly love he wanted. How he didn't get the full experience of having an older brother.

"You okay, little star?"

Danyal snapped his head towards Tim, eyes blown wide and flashing green (he knows that wasn't normal but he ignores that in favor to the way Danyal visibly softens at the nickname).

"'m okay, akhi." Danyal muttered, following after Tim after adjusting his own hood.

And it's like his heart stops.

Yep.

Tim has had Danyal for barely a year and he was willing to throw hands with Ra's, Talia, and Bruce for him.

"C'mon, qalbi(my heart). Batburger's still open."

He barely noticed the shift after that. But others think it's a glaring change that often made them stop and stare.

Danyal went to Tim whenever he needed anything.

If Danyal wasn't in bed, you'd find him snuggled up to Tim.

Danyal hated it when people touched him... Except for Tim.

Danyal liked Tim the most.

The day Dick thought it was a good idea to call Danyal 'Danny' (a nickname that was only used by Tim and Alfred), he almost got stabbed. Well, that's where all the stabbiness went to.

Safe to say, Tim was Danny's favorite.

And Danny was Tim's.

"Drake! What have you done to my brother?!" Damian pointed a katana at Tim, who lazily glanced his way before turning back to Danny who was comfortably snuggled up to him and watching Blue while Tim scrolled on Tiktok.

"I haven't done anything to Danny, demon brat. Now shoo!" Tim's irritation could be heard from a mile away, shamelessly shooing Damian away with a flick of his wrist. Then the next second, he was combing his fingers through Danny's hair and listening to his younger brother make a purring noise.

(Another point of investigation because that is not fucking normal, Tim. Cute though!)

"I refuse to believe that Danyal would prefer you over me!"

"You're just salty that he stabs you like you stab me." Tim waved him off again, watching as Danny yawned and continued to ignore everyone else.

The click of a camera immediately alerts him and he's tugging Danny down before the much younger boy lunges at Dick.

"Woah! What's up with him?" Dick nervously asked, instinctively raising his phone above his head.

"Delete that!" Tim snarled, pulling Danny closer and guiding his brothers face to his shoulder. "You know he hates it when people take pictures without consent!"

(Tim doesn't tell them that something goes every wrong with the footage if Danny was ever in the picture.)

"Dick." Tim warned, effortlessly picking up Danny, because yes, his seemingly cryptid baby brother could become weightless, and snatched Dick's phone. Yep. Instead of Danny, there was a very strange figure, a glitching silhouette of black and green. He deletes it immediately.

Dick was pouring, "I don't have any pics of Danny—"

"Don't call me that, Richard." Danny scowled, clinging to Tim like a koala. He was strangely more child-like than Damian, muttering about annoying people who interrupted bonding time. (Dick was just forced to pout.)

"Danyal." Damian crossed his arms, scowling at Danny who was still comfortably cuddled up to Tim. "It is not appropriate to cling to Drake in such a way! You will embarrass our mother and father if you are seen acting like a petulant child!"

Tim wanted to argue that no, he wouldn't embarrass Talia and Bruce by being a kid, but Danny just grabbed a cookie from nowhere (note to self, add possible teleportation powers to cryptid baby) and shoved it into his mouth.

Danny just yawned, fixing Damian with a lazy glare.

"Tuhali, can you shut up?"

Damian stood stock still, while Jason and Bruce choked on their own spit. Jason slapping a hand over his mouth and Bruce just staring at his twins like the apocalypse was about to return.

"What did you just call me?"

Danny yawne again, "My spleen."

Tim knew what Tuhali meant. Of course he fucking knew Arabic! But to think that his cryptid baby brother was straight up calling Damian his spleen?

The spleen that Tim doesn't have.

The spleen that's important to the immune system but you can survive without it?

Tim grinned, grabbing his cryptid baby and made a run for it.

Yep.

Danny was definitely his favorite.

Credits to: @strangergraphics for the dividers used.

Peter is gotham, fine and dandy, all the tropes you could ever want BUT

Into the spiderverse right. With The Canon explanation

So picture Peter falls into DC, and his canon ties to his own universe are cut because his canon was essentially erased, comic book logic and all that

So DC (or sentient Gotham!) Basically adopts Peter into their universe, and also his canon.

What does that mean, you ask?

PICTURE THIS.

Peter now has to live through everything considered a canon even for a Spider-Man, including but not limited to Uncle Ben's death. This works beautifully when paired with Jason being Ben's equivalent, like a fine wine and cheese

Pariah Dark is summoned to the DC universe by cultists who want to give the world over to him, he obliges in their request since he'll get something out of it, and he hasn't been out in ages as well.

So Pariah Dark raises his army of the dead and gets to work, his general isn't here with him but he would do fine without him, couldn't be that hard.

Besides, said general is occupied with a task of the utmost importance.

A few days into this siege Pariah is surprised at how much of a fight this world is putting up, that 'Justice League' of theirs is proving a fair more challenge than he would have though and since when did humans know the arcane secrets of magic?

It was a few more days later that Pariah Dark is about to face off against the league and their magic users that something unexpected happened. A teenage boy appeared on the battlefield, glowing white hair and starry cloak billowing in the wind as he stood before the Ghost King in all his glory.

Only to groan and tell him to come home already and that he promised not to do his whole 'enslaving worlds' thing. Pariah Dark, the Ghost King known as a tyrant and cruel, wilting under the boy's stare and actively seemed to be considering it, before confusion appeared on his face and he asked where his general was.

Kid just held up one side of his cloak and Fright Knight popped right out as if summoned, which, technically he was.

So then the kid forced the notorious Ghost King back to the Infinite Realms with a stare and words dripping in disappointment before turning back to the heroes gathered there with a sigh.

"I know father can be a bit... rough, so please accept my apologies for this." He bowed, all the regal air and dignity of a prince before leaving through the same portal as his dad.

The magic users of the League are both not and are taking it well. One on hand, the goddamn Ghost king apparently has a son, on the other he's not as bloodthirsty as his father.

(After thought. But bonus points if Fright Knight appears too one of the batkids after Danny left and telling them that the prince thought they were cute or something idk mane just an after thought)

ic: @batfam-stuff-posts-0

based on this post :))

I came across the AU idea that Dick Grayson is Richard Parker, and thus, Peter Parker's biological father. There are a few fics where Peter dimension travels to the DC universe and gets to meet his dead father. It is a fun idea, but I have different one.

AU where Peter dimension travels to the DC universe, and the batfam realizes that he is Dick's son, but rather than think he is from another universe, they all come to the conclusion that he is from the future.

It makes sense, after all, the rules of time travel basically boil down to 'don't change anything.' So when Peter is avoiding them and "pretending" not to know them, they just think he is following the rules. (He isn't even really avoiding them, he just has no idea who they are.)

You know how once you have an idea in your head, it take a lot of convince you that your wrong? Same idea here, they are so convinced of their idea that all new info ends up making them surer. Confirmation bias.

So Peter is trying to find a way home while the batfam tries to subtly help him without getting involved in time travel. Hijinks ensue.

Peter once mentions his love of photography and how he used to take pictures of heroes for a newspaper. Everyone looks at Tim and thinks, 'Gee I wonder where he picked up that hobby.'

At one point Peter pulls an assassin move, and Damian is like, 'I taught him that for sure.' (In reality Peter just trained with Natasha and Bucky before.)

When dealing with some issue Peter says something like, "I know a guy with some green angry problems and he taught me a lot about staying calm when mad." Everyone looks at Jason??? (He just picked up some meditation advice from Bruce Banner)

At some point he goes to the manor and everyone is like, 'Hah! More proof! He knows his way around the building!' He doesn't know his way around, his spider sense just lead him to where people are and kept him from getting lost.

He mentions Black Cat once, and everyone comes to the "totally logical" conclusion that Catwoman had a daughter, and that Peter and Felicia also have a weird almost dating thing going on.

Peter has been forced to go to some fancy events with Tony before so he knows how to act at rich people galas, which of course just adds fuel to the time travel theory.

Peter keeps accidentally referencing things that don't exist/didn't happen. Everyone just assumes these things didn't happen/don't exist yet.

Dreams and dead kids

I went through @starry-bi-sky's shorter dpxdc au's the other day, and fell too deep in love with too many of them. Here's something inspired by their Danny Fenton is Jason Todd au whose spooky elements and universe crossover gave me so many brainworms

He doesn't start talking about the nightmares. Dick never does - he starts with something light, something interesting, something warm. But they always come up. "Free since Thursday," Danny rasps into the phone. It's Sunday. He can still feel the dreams in the back of his throat and against the curve of his ribs, tar thick and heavy. He doesn't think it will ever go away, not anymore. It's as much a part of him as his blood, the real thing not stained on green gloves and a yellow cape, as his ears and mouth and teeth, as the dark circles under his eyes.

Danny picks up Dick's phone call without looking. The ringtone is set for him specifically - everyone in his contacts have a personalized ringtone, so he doesn't need to blink the blood out of his eyes to know if one of his people is calling.

"Seems they really are becoming less frequent," Dick hums from the other end of the country, soft and warm and comforting. "Good, that's good. I'm still looking into medication. I've found one that might work for you."

Danny leans his head against his phone. His body feels like one at war, stuck between night terrors and the fear-born insomnia that attempts to stay away from them. "We'll see," he mutters, low and tired.

"If it doesn't, I'll keep looking, Jay," Dick says Danny's name like it's the most natural thing in the world. "I'll get you sleeping again if it's the last thing I do."

In a little city in Illinois, with two adoptive parents working on a portal to the other side in his basement, Danny huffs a laugh.

"My hero."

-

Danny has an accident.

That phrase is so juvenile. Like he's a child that wet the bed. 

Danny had an accident. Danny was in an accident. Danny messed up.

He doesn't know what to call it, but he needs to find out. Tucker called it the incident, once. It's carried with a tone that implies something big, but in the bathos way, were you're pretty sure it hides an embarrassing joke. Sam calls it june, like it's 9/11 and only the date is needed to explain it. Jazz calls it neglect. Their parents call it an oversight.

Death, Danny can't call it. He can barely bring himself to joke about it. He told the doctor that surveyed his lichtenberg scars that his heart probably stopped and started, like a natural defibrillator. The doctor doesn't take it as the joke he had hoped it was.

The day I died, his lips form the words without sound, the portal, the pain, the waking nightmare.

The one good thing about dying is that his dreams have stopped carrying the same weight. There's little to fear from the pressure on his ribs and blood in his mouth when he's already felt his body break open and mold itself into something new. His vision breaks red in the low morning sunlight. With the memory of death seeped into his mind, he no longer wakes up heaving or choking, crying or with ribs breaking in on him. He no longer wakes up breathing at all.

He thinks his heartbeat hurts more than it helps these days. It's a pain to get it going again each morning. With the echo of ticking clocks in his ears and blood still staining unfamiliar gloves to the vision of mangled hands, with the reflection of a shock and mind melting heat and eyes covering every inch of the portal, with the memory of death, both foreign and too close to home, Danny wakes as the living corpse he's become.

I'm not dead lingers in the back of his throat. It's a lie. The doctor said a mantra could help to wake up from his nightmares, but that one doesn't work anymore.

"I'm alive," his hoarse voice whispers into his too dead and too alive bedroom instead, because that one is true.

Danny's reflection in the window looks at him with five glowing eyes, overlapping and breaking of his face. He'd joke that the house is haunted, but it's just him.

He starts breathing again.