#king croc ( waylon. )

[incorrectbatfam]

How funny would it be if Arrowette and Killer Croc were related

[villain-preacher]

Let's start this year with some Gotham city memes, shall we? :D

[toadtrustee]

Me and my friends when we pull up. (We’re gonna fight batman)

[celticcatgirl2]

….Violence breaks out at local Furry convention…..

[pixie-mask]

[twistedtummies2]

whats your preferred roster line-up for the Suicide Squad? can just be your own headcanon one

My personal headcanon Suicide Squad line-up includes Deadshot, Harley Quinn, Captain Boomerang, Killer Frost, Killer Croc, AND King Shark. (Because why have one man-eating monster when you can have two?)

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Who are some DC characters who have either never interacted or had limited interactions that you'd love to see?

Thank You 😃

Well besides my obvious picks of Calvin Rose with Dick Grayson and especially Christopher Kent with Jake Grayson, there are also

Colin Wilkes and Kid!Jon Kent; those are such similar guys persona wise yet Colin can bring in all his street smarts and quick thinking after living in the orphanages of Gotham to balance with Jon’s more naïveté and curious traits. If Jon were like say Oliver Twist, Colin would be his Artful Dodger

Another two I like to see meet more often would be Rachel Roth and Zatanna. While they had met briefly that one time back in NTT, it wasn’t exactly the most friendly of encounters given the latter having misplaced suspicions of the former being an agent of Trigon when in reality Rae was simply trying to distance herself from him. Another two meeting under healthier and more understanding circumstances between them going on a true adventure that allows them to open up with each other would be a sight to see. Closest thing we got was when they were on the same team as Diana during Justice League: No Justice and even then they don’t do much

And finally, there’s some potential for fun I can see in King Shark meeting Killer Croc of all things. You got a guy who only looks like a partial crocodile due to his skin condition and mutation that really just wants to be treated like a regular person and he doesn’t eat people paired up with the the scion if a literal shark deity who actually can eat people. Can these two get along in the big city?

The comedy can write itself

Also also even though technically we got interactions between them as of recently, I would very much like like Kory and Babs meeting as partners on a superhero mission or few where they call talk about themselves to each other healthily and even go out for ice cream together as legit friends. It’s there where they can talk sh*t hilariously about Dick and maybe even Babs gives advice for Kory when she and Dick have dates together. But I digress

These were fun buddy. Thanks for the ask :-D @confusedhummingbird

[multifandomplushie]

Been diving back into BTAS with my little brother to revist the episodes we've already seen and give those we haven't seen a watch. And after "The Underdwellers" we both got a thought that, should there have been Killer Croc and Penguin, they would show the guy who's really in charge of the place. And I immediately remembered this meme. I needed a third one and luckily Ratcatcher happened to have appeared in one of the comics related to this continuity.

[deathandgreenteapockys]

Waylon my beloved

[king-crane]

@brutalscaled​

CONTINUED FROM HERE: x

Astounding.

For a moment, Crane’s eyes were glued to his accomplice. When he had asked Waylon to open the display, he had expected something much slower and methodical. After all, that glass was bulletproof and heavily reinforced, adding further fire to the claim that the artifact was authentic. And yet, the Killer Croc, King of Gotham’s Under-Underworld, had smashed it open as if it were little more than a nuisance. And he had retrieved the artifact intact. A new appreciation for Waylon made itself known to Crane, but he tucked it away beneath his rising panic. He had enough gems and jewels and relics to repay Waylon, at least for now.

With one last look back at the remains of what was once the museum, Crane resisted the urge to spit contemptuously. The rising smoke in the air was as potent as it was rank, and Crane was, not for the first time, immensely glad that he always kept a gas mask and respirator on when in full attire.

Shaking his head, Crane mourned once for the history he would be taking with him from the museum, but it was for a good cause. Progress. Hope. Innovation. Soon enough, there would be no need to recount the past when the future would be so bright.

One last nod, and Crane followed his guide to the maintenance hatch. Without thinking, the lanky man threw himself down into the depths, grateful that he had landed on his feet, and even more grateful that the acrid fires and smoke above were no longer dancing in the air and threatening his sanity.

Grunting, Crane turned to his accomplice and sized him up. The job had been relatively simple, but it had taken a turn for the traumatic there. He would have to clear things up.

“...I suppose this does not leave a good impression as a partner, all things considered, but I panicked. The pyromaniac is...” Crane swallowed thickly as his left arm (or what was left of it) seized up at the memory, and he decided to leave it be. “In any case, you are reliable, and you did excellent work. I know we’re not out of the proverbial woods yet, but... here.”

Reaching upwards in an attempt to reach the ten foot giant, Crane handed a burlap sack forth...

...before he remembered that it might not be such a good idea to give an unmarked bag to the man after they had just escaped such a tense situation. Grunting, Crane reached in, only to pull out a handful of rubies, diamonds, emeralds and the like.

“Extra payment. I’m not sure if you took enough for yourself, so I went to the liberty of doing so for you.”

[fanficsbyme-causeimgay]

Sewer King - An SI in Gotham

Premise:

Imagine waking up in a sewer.

Now imagine you got no legs, no memories, and no bitches- Hey, there's a huge croc guy! To make sure he doesn't you, you promise him you'll make him a king! And he doesn't eat you.

...he makes you his bitch instead!

But it's fine. It's consensual anyway.

Do you like Gotham? I mean, who would? Not even those who live in Gotham like Gotham...

So why not start your own kingdom?

Read Further on Questionable Questing (Recommended):

https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/sewer-king-an-si-in-gotham.26740/

Or AO3

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Family? Assemble!

Reporter: Gotham News, and we have a new supervillain on the line. Mr Phantom, what are your demands at the moment? Phantom with lack of sleep and with tears: I..I want a titanium model of a spaceship! And to get a good night’s sleep and to go to the local school…and some fudge and.. Reporter: Oh, my bad. Just one question for clarification, are you by any chance an orphan or are your parents villains? Phantom: I prefer the term mad scientists Reporter: Okay. So, Gotham news! And with me on the line is the new potential child of Wayne or Batman. Want to know how two serial adopters will share a child leading a double life? Stay with us and find out. Now let's check in with Jessie for our weather report. Phantom: Wait, what?

~~~~~

Danny spends the night running from the Red Hood with a bag of fudge, Red Robin with a pot of coffee, Batman with the adoption papers and, for some reason, Brucie Wayne with an idea of internship at a space station. Ha! The Justice League will never let a ghost into orbit. Not that Wayne can blackmail superheroes or smth. Danny: Fuck you all! I’m done with vigilante activity, I’m not your competitor! What do you want from me? And I’m done with crazy billionaires too. I swear, I’d rather be adopted by a local mob boss just to piss you off! ~Later~ Danny *sees peering out of the corner Matches Malone*: Are you kidding me?! Robbie *jumps off the roof and lands right behind Danny*: Stop running, lil brother, No one’s left the family yet. Minnie: What about Neal? Robbie *shakes a knife with a bow on the handle negatively*: He’s on sabbatical, that doesn’t count. Anyway, it’s a gift for you, cub. Danny: Um, thank you, but my lab scalpels are definitely sterile, and your blade was in who knows who before you brought it here. Robbie: It’s brand-new! And Archie decorated it with a ghost on the handle. Look! It's cute! With a smile and… Dick: Hands up! You’re under arrest for trying to steal our new member! Minnie: Why is he yours, damn cop? Selina: Boys, don’t fight. He’s mine. Schrodinger’s cat is still a kitten. Killer Croc: No way, my niece is staying with me. Danny: Uncle Waylon? Long time no see. Ra's: My grandson needs steady access to ectoplasm. Danyal, come with me. Danny: Over my dead body! Oh shiii…I mean no. Anyway, don’t you think the alley’s getting a little crowded?

~~~~

Killer Croc: Is he still mad at me? RR: Danny doesn’t talk to uncles who tried to eat his beloved brother Red Robin. Killer Croc: He wasn’t even your brother then. What do you want? An apology from me? RR: That would be nice.

~~~~

Danny: I didn’t think the GIW agents would really fear the reputation of Gotham and not follow me. What a relief! Jason *quickly throws the knife into the sink*: Wow, you got lucky. Alfred: Master Jones, why don’t you eat your steak? I thought last week you were complaining to Batman that 'cause of him you got not many prey. Croc *pulls a piece of white robe from the teeth*: Well, now there is a lot of it. Bruce *gives Jason and Croc the side-eye*.

~~~~

Ra's: You do realize that Malone, Wayne and Batman are the same person, right? Boy, you were born into a family of geniuses, don’t disappoint Grandpa. Danny: Triple pocket money, triple gifts for the holidays, the opportunity to complain about the same family member three times. No, Grandpa, I definitely don’t understand. Ra's: Smart little weasel.

~~~~

Selina: Okay. Purely theoretical. Do you like to steal? Danny: I wouldn’t say that. But somehow I stole the sword from the fright knight. And also stole few jewels but then I was under the mind control. I returned them. Well, the crown and ring of the king of the ghost zone I also took without permission. Oh, and the answers to the test once. And I’m really sorry about the last one. Neal: I feel the story behind it but I prefer to know nothing about it.

[nabtime]

Sir Waylon of Gotham

Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity well-to-doers. Didn't much like their attitude. Or the way they looked at 'im. Lookin' down their noses, all pinched-faced and holier-than-thou, like he was the scum of the earth for the way he looked. And while Waylon wouldn't deny that he was scum, it sure weren't for lookin' the way he did. He'd earned that title fair 'n square, through hard work 'n strikin' fear inta the people of Gotham.

And he did that by bitin' they's arms off, not 'cause he was a li'l scaly.

Point was, Waylon didn't talk much with fancy people. Yeah, he talked to the Bat Brood and they could half be considered fancy on account of mostly bein' Waynes under the mask, but they didn't count. Not really. 'Specially their newest petite couyon that liked to swing about in his sewers like the chit owned the place. He didn't know how the kid was added to the family- coulda been adopted, coulda been one a' the other one's partner, coulda been another blood son a popped up outta nowhere 'gain.

Waylon didn't ask and the chit never said. No, all Phantom ever wanted to talk 'bout was how Waylon was doin. Idjit was far too concerned about Waylon's well-bein' when he shoulda been mindin' his own damn business. Kid said it was part a his business. That heroes had to check in on the reformed, make sure they were well and happy so they didn't have a need to get back inta villainy. Waylon wanted to call bullshit on 'im but he just didn't have the heart when the kid looked so earnest 'bout it.

And maybe the kid was swingin' in all the time just to check in on an Old Croc. Maybe even the kid didn't mind bein' 'round 'im an 'is big, scary teeth. Sure it were more likely he needed an escape an' the sewers were a place most Bats didn't venture less they had to, but iffin that were true- kid didn't have to find and talk to him every time.

All this was to say that he'd gotten used to seein' Danny 'round the sewers, and even seein' Jay when the older kid was sent to bring the other back topside.

Who he had not gotten used to seein' in the sewers, though, was a pretty thing all done up in medieval dress and glowin' green. Nor was he used to the hulking Knight done up in glowin' black armor standin' next ta her.

And, again, Waylon wasn't much for talkin' to hoity-toity people, let alone Ghost Royalty or some such, but he was still a man with manners. An' they were in his sewers (well, an' Grundy's, but the big lug weren't here, so's point was moot) so he was haven'ta be the one to greet 'em.

He growl echoed off the stone and muck as he approached the two beings that were floating midair, just above the water. They both looked lost until he fully rose from the grime and addressed them.

"Youins need somethin? Ya lookin fer Danny?"

And, well, Waylon said he had manners. Never said he was gonna use 'em.

"Oh!" said the sweet thing in flowing gown, her voice just as soft as she looked. "Yes! You must be the good Sir Waylon of Gotham that the King speaks so fondly of. I am Princess Dorathea and this is my personal guard, Fright Knight."

Sir Waylon? Now that's not somethin' he's ever heard afore. Him? Deservin' of a title like Sir? Ain't no way. He weren't 'bout to say nothin', but it sure did make him feel all flustery that a noble Lady like her would think so highly of a monster like him.

"Nah I wouldn' say he's 'xactly fond a me, but the name is Waylon, yeah, uh- My Lady."

And she smiled at 'im, sweet as anythin', like he weren't made a sharp edges an spilled blood. The big Knight aside her was actin like that too, posture relaxed as he just let her get closer. Closer an most people ever dared. 'Cept Phantom an some a the Bats. Was it a ghost thing? No fear a death, so whats scary about a big man with sharp teeth anymore?

"Would Sir Phantom be near-abouts?" she asked. "I require his counsel on matters of import."

"Sorry, cher- uh, My Lady," he grumbled, "ain't gotta clue where he's at. Somewhere's topside, prolly."

Her shoulders slumped just the slightest, obviously disappointed in his answer. And try as he might to want to give her a better one, he only knew where the kid was when he wanted to hang around underground. Waylon avoided the streets at all costs these days, not wantin' to risk trouble again. He'd spent enough of his days wastin' away in Arkham and Blackgate, thanks.

The Lady turned thoughtful though and graced him with a tilt of her head and a smile. "Perhaps you would deign to assist me instead, Sir Waylon?"

"Well nah, I'd love ta, My Lady. Supposin' its somethin' I can help ya with."

"Yes," she said, circling around him in a graceful glide, "so long as you are willing, you will suit just fine."

"Ya still haven't told me what ya need help with, ah- My Lady."

Waylon couldn't see the Knight's expression but he could almost feel the amusement pourin' off a him. And he wondered just what the hell he'd agreed to that a guy like that'd find it funny.

"My brother is making moves to take back the Kingdom. He has amassed a small, but skilled contingent of rebels and intends to usurp me at the upcoming Yule Celebration."

"So ya need muscle ta help stop 'im?"

"Oh no," she said, sweet but full of venom- like arsenic. Her grin was now full of teeth, teeth much to sharp for a proper Lady like her, and her eyes turned to glowing reptilian points. "I can take care of him myself. I intended to ask Sir Phantom along as contingency."

She looked him up and down and the Knight standing guard behind her was projectin' a certain smugness as he did the same.

"You, however, Sir Waylon," she said, and the tone near sent a shiver down his spine. "Will do well as both warrior and suitor."

"What say you?"

[celticcatgirl2]

“…Today on Animal Planet….”

[just-an-enby-lemon]

I'm a firm defender of Arkham being terrible. The worst place on Earth. This place is clearly making everyone worse.

Give me Jonathan Crane loving how cruel and lax one could get with the "patients" at Arkham as he tested his toxin only for him to realize that the same "treatment" would be gave to him as he is finally caught by Batman. Jonathan who was one of the doctors who signed authorizing eletroshock "therapy" because he didn't care either way only for years later see himself being dragged to the eletroconvoulsive room.

Give me Harvey Dent trying to use his lawyer knowledge to protect himself and his friends by mentioning how solitary confinament against mentally ill people is not allowed on the state of New Jersey only for the guards/doctors to smile cruely and say "oh but this isn't solitary confinament it is *insert buzzword for solitary confinament that makes it legal*"(and yes prisons do that irl).

Harley painfully trying to explain both as doctor and as patient that inhumane treatment of inmates was scietifically proven to only make them more violent only to be ignored because "don't the guards deserve revenge" or some similar bullshit.

Ivvy who just wants her plants. Who gets physically sick when she can't get close to the green. But she can't have even sunshine because they specially discriminate against metahumans. And what if she uses her powers? Same for Music Maister except is worse because it is his voice! They even take Freezes suit away the first times but when they realize he will just die he just gets an special room that is basically temperature zero solitary but don't worry is for his own good.

All while doing human experimentation with Clayface because he is a meta anyway and honestly does he even count as human? And of course let's not forget Killer Croc that gets to be arrested in a cell on the fucking sewers. Yes it does not have basic sanitation whatsoever and yes Waylon deserves better.

Jervis who gets punished for daring saying they have no respect for the human mind. And King Tut who is mocked for his delusions instead of helped in any way.

Joker who spends more time in solitary than with actual people to the point is very likely that he was actually sane before Arkham and just an evil clown.

Riddler who spends most of his stay just drugged out of his mind because he talks to much and both the nurses and the guards find him annoying and isn't the silence best for everyone? And if him (or anyone who is reciving too much medication or the wrong meds) gets an addiction, well is not their problem.

And of course the more important part: Bruce who has no clue what is happening until Joan Leland enters the picture and contacts him for help because it doesn't matter if they are all criminals they are people and she is going to do her job (and Bruce Wayne is the only donor that cares). Cue to an horrifyied Bruce questioning his former stance on crime and getting ready to help make Gotham a place were rehabilitation is truly possible.

[britcision]

I am so sleepy

I was gonna give you Waylon and Danny since I think that came second but I’m not checking

BUT THEN THIS CAME TO ME IN A VISION so here you go, have KON! 😈

Chapter 15 is sitting at 11 500 words rn so it’s soooo close I just got a scene or two to finish up (Bruce suffering Bruce suffering Bruce Suffering)

———————

I’ll Take The Highway part v

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus Pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon?

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

——————

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