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urdreamydoodles · 5 months ago

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DC Comics Characters x Fem!OC

You hurt yourself doing home renovations

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kal-El (Clark Kent), Barry Allen, Diana of Themyscira, Arthur Curry, Hal Jordan, Oliver Queen, John Constantine, Roy Harper, Koriand'r (Starfire), Kara Zor-El (Supergirl), Slade Wilson, Kent Nelson (Dr. Fate), Rachel Roth, Zatanna Zatara & Wally West

Bruce Wayne aka. Batman

- Bruce notices the injury immediately; his sharp, calculating eyes miss nothing. “You’re hurt,” he says, his tone low but with an edge of worry that only someone close to him might detect. He takes your hand gently but firmly, examining the bandage with the practiced ease of someone who’s patched himself up countless times. “What happened?” he asks, his voice even, though his jaw tightens. You explain it was a minor accident during your renovation project, but he doesn’t look convinced.

- Without a word, Bruce retrieves a medical kit and kneels in front of you. His movements are efficient, his touch steady but surprisingly gentle. “This could’ve been worse,” he says as he rewraps the bandage, his voice tinged with a seriousness that makes your heart ache. “You need to be more careful.” It’s not just a suggestion—it’s a command born of a deep fear he rarely voices.

- “I’m helping you finish this,” he declares, standing and rolling up his sleeves. His presence is commanding, as always, and there’s no room for argument. Watching Bruce work is like watching a master strategist; every movement is calculated, every decision deliberate. Despite his seriousness, he pauses occasionally to ask if you’re okay, his concern manifesting in small but meaningful ways.

- As you work together, Bruce’s reserved demeanor softens slightly. He shares stories from his own mishaps at Wayne Manor, a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask. “Alfred still teases me about the time I tried to fix a chandelier,” he says, a faint smile tugging at his lips. It’s in these moments that you see the man behind the Bat—the man who loves you fiercely, even if he struggles to show it.

- That evening, as you sit in the newly completed space, Bruce wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You mean everything to me,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a rare vulnerability. “I can’t lose you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and firm against your skin. Bruce’s love is steadfast, protective, and unyielding—a shield against the darkness that surrounds him.

Kal-El (Clark Kent) aka. Superman

- Clark’s face falls the moment he notices your injury. “What happened?” he asks, his voice filled with concern. His large, gentle hands take yours, his thumb brushing softly against the bandage. When you explain it was just a small accident during your renovation, his brow furrows in worry. “You should’ve called me,” he says, his voice warm but firm. “I would’ve been here in seconds.”

- He insists on checking your hand, his touch impossibly gentle. “I know it’s not serious, but even small injuries can hurt,” he says, his blue eyes meeting yours with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. As he examines the wound, his movements are deliberate, careful—a reflection of the restraint he always practices to keep his immense strength in check.

- “I’m not letting you finish this alone,” Clark declares, his easy smile returning. Watching him work is a sight to behold—his strength and speed make quick work of the tasks, but he’s careful to include you in the process. “You know, you’re pretty amazing for taking this on yourself,” he says, his admiration clear. “But maybe next time, let me do the heavy lifting.”

- Clark fills the room with his presence, his laughter ringing out as he shares stories of his childhood on the farm. “Pa used to say I could fix anything, but I don’t think he meant it literally,” he jokes, his grin infectious. His positivity is contagious, turning the task into a joyful experience rather than a chore.

- As the day winds down, Clark pulls you into his arms, holding you close as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. “You scared me today,” he admits, his voice soft. “You’re my world, and I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt.” His love is vast and unwavering, a force of nature as steady and comforting as the sun.

Barry Allen aka. Flash

- Barry is at your side before you even realize he’s noticed your injury. “Hey, what’s this?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern as he gently lifts your hand. His blue eyes dart to the bandage, then back to your face. “You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?” he teases, but his worry is evident. “How’d this happen?”

- In a blur, he’s retrieved the first aid kit, his hands moving at super-speed to clean and rewrap your wound. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands,” he says with a wink, though his focus is absolute. Barry’s always been quick—literally and emotionally—but when it comes to you, he takes his time, ensuring every detail is perfect. “You’ve got to let me know when you need help,” he says, his tone soft but sincere.

- “Alright, you’re officially benched,” Barry announces with a grin. “I’m finishing this for you.” He’s a whirlwind of energy as he tackles the project, moving so fast that you can barely keep track. But he makes sure to slow down just enough to include you, cracking jokes and asking your opinion at every step.

- Barry’s lighthearted nature turns the renovation into a fun adventure. “You know, if this whole superhero thing doesn’t work out, I might have a future in carpentry,” he says, laughing as he perfectly aligns a frame in a fraction of a second. His joy is infectious, and you find yourself smiling despite the day’s earlier chaos.

- At the end of the day, Barry pulls you into his arms, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re my lightning rod,” he says softly, his words carrying the weight of his feelings. “I need you safe, always.” His love is fast and electrifying, but it’s also deeply grounding—a steady current that ties him to you, no matter how quickly the world moves around him.

Diana of Themyscira aka. Wonder Woman

- Diana’s gaze sharpens the moment she sees your bandaged hand. “What happened?” she asks, her voice steady but filled with concern. She moves closer, taking your hand in hers with a warrior’s precision and a lover’s tenderness. When you explain the accident, she frowns, her lips pressing into a determined line. “You should have called for me,” she says, her voice soft but firm.

- She kneels before you, her hands strong yet gentle as she examines your injury. “Even the smallest wounds must be treated with care,” she says, her tone carrying the wisdom of centuries. As she cleans and rewraps the bandage, her movements are deliberate, each one filled with a quiet reverence for your well-being. “Your safety matters to me,” she adds, her eyes meeting yours with unwavering sincerity.

- “Come,” Diana says, rising gracefully to her feet. “We will finish this together.” She takes the lead with effortless strength and grace, her presence commanding yet reassuring. Watching her work is mesmerizing; every movement is precise, every decision thoughtful. “This is good work you’ve started,” she says, her voice warm with pride. “But let me ease your burden.”

- Diana shares stories of Themyscira as you work, her voice rich with history and passion. “On my island, we build with our hands and our hearts,” she says, her smile radiant. “Each task is an opportunity to honor the strength within us.” Her words inspire you, her belief in your capabilities unwavering.

- That evening, Diana draws you into a gentle embrace, her arms strong and protective. “You are precious to me,” she says, her voice a soft melody. “I cannot bear the thought of you in pain.” She presses a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering as if to seal her vow. Diana’s love is fierce and enduring, a flame that burns brightly and warmly, illuminating every corner of your heart.

Arthur Curry aka. Aquaman

- Arthur notices the bandage on your hand the moment he walks through the door, his sharp, sea-green eyes narrowing in concern. “What happened, love?” he asks, his deep voice steady but tinged with worry. When you explain the accident, he shakes his head with a low chuckle. “You’re as stubborn as the tides, you know that?” he says, though his expression softens as he takes your hand in his rough but gentle grip.

- “Let me see,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. He inspects your injury carefully, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin. “It’s not bad, but you’ve got to be more careful,” he mutters, his voice filled with a protective edge. Arthur’s care is practical, but there’s an underlying tenderness that speaks volumes about how deeply he feels for you.

- “Alright, you’re done for the day,” he declares, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I’ll handle the rest.” Despite your protests, Arthur’s determination is unyielding. Watching him work is a marvel; his strength makes heavy tasks look effortless, but he’s surprisingly meticulous, his movements precise and deliberate. “This is easy compared to wrangling sea monsters,” he teases, flashing you a grin.

- As he works, Arthur regales you with tales of Atlantis, his deep voice resonating like the waves. “Did I ever tell you about the time Mera and I rebuilt the coral spires after a storm?” he asks, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder. His stories are vivid and captivating, his love for his home—and for you—evident in every word.

- That evening, Arthur pulls you into his arms, his embrace as warm and encompassing as the ocean itself. “You scared me,” he admits, his voice low and serious. “You’re my anchor, and I can’t bear to see you hurt.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if to soothe away all your worries. Arthur’s love is as vast and enduring as the sea, a force of nature that surrounds and protects you.

Hal Jordan aka. Green Lantern

- Hal’s easygoing demeanor shifts the moment he notices the bandage on your hand. “What’s this?” he asks, his voice filled with concern as he takes your hand gently. His green eyes scan the wound, his expression a mix of worry and amusement. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with sharp objects?” he teases, though his grip tightens protectively.

- “Alright, let me play doctor,” he says with a wink, summoning a glowing green construct of a first aid kit. Hal’s touch is careful as he rewraps your bandage, his usual bravado giving way to surprising precision. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he says softly, his tone carrying a weight that shows how much he cares.

- “Looks like I’m your personal handyman today,” Hal declares, conjuring a glowing hammer with a flourish. He tackles the project with his trademark confidence, his constructs turning the mundane task into something almost magical. “See? Easy,” he says, flashing you a cocky grin. “You’ve got the best in the business on your side.”

- As he works, Hal keeps you entertained with his endless banter and larger-than-life stories. “There was this one time on Oa…” he begins, spinning a tale that’s equal parts unbelievable and hilarious. His humor lightens the atmosphere, and his laughter is infectious, making even the simplest moments feel special.

- Later, as you sit together under the soft glow of his ring, Hal wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “You know, you’re my reason to keep coming back to Earth,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “I don’t want anything happening to you.” His love is like his willpower—unshakable, glowing brightly and guiding you through even the darkest times.

Oliver Queen aka. Green Arrow

- “Whoa, hold up—what happened to your hand?” Oliver asks, his sharp gaze landing on your bandaged injury. Before you can brush it off, he’s already by your side, gently taking your hand in his. “You didn’t think to call me?” he teases, though his voice carries a hint of genuine worry. “I could’ve handled this in no time.”

- He grabs the first aid kit, his hands surprisingly deft as he unwraps and rebandages your wound. “You’ve got to be more careful, beautiful,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I can’t have you sidelined—you’re my best partner, after all.” His touch is light, but the protective edge in his tone makes it clear how much he cares.

- “Alright, step aside. The Green Arrow is on the job,” Oliver says, flashing you a trademark smirk. Watching him work is an experience in itself—he’s efficient and surprisingly skilled, despite his playful demeanor. “Bet you didn’t know I was handy with a hammer, huh?” he jokes, his grin lighting up the room.

- Oliver keeps the mood light with his constant humor and quick wit. “You know, I once tried to fix a broken bowstring and ended up snapping three more,” he says, laughing at the memory. His charm is irresistible, and he has a way of making even the most tedious tasks feel fun and exciting.

- As the evening winds down, Oliver pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. “You scared me today,” he admits, his voice low and serious. “I’ve lost enough people in my life—I’m not losing you too.” He kisses your forehead, his lips warm and lingering. Oliver’s love is bold, passionate, and unwavering, a constant in your life that leaves you feeling cherished and protected.

John Constantine aka. Hellblazer

- John notices the injury immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “What’s this, then?” he asks, his voice a mix of concern and irritation. He steps closer, taking your hand in his surprisingly gentle grip. “Bloody hell, love, you’ve got to take better care of yourself,” he mutters, his usual sarcasm tempered by genuine worry.

- He doesn’t bother with a first aid kit—instead, he mutters a few words in Latin, and a faint glow surrounds your hand. “There, good as new,” he says with a smirk, though his eyes linger on you with a rare softness. “Don’t make me have to fix you up like this again, yeah?” he adds, his tone light but edged with seriousness.

- “Right, let’s see what mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” John says, surveying the unfinished renovation. He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work, grumbling under his breath but surprisingly competent. “Don’t look so shocked—I’m full of surprises,” he says with a wink.

- As he works, John keeps up a steady stream of sardonic commentary and darkly humorous anecdotes. “This reminds me of the time I tried to patch up a hole in my flat’s wall. Ended up summoning a demon instead,” he quips, his dry humor making you laugh despite yourself. His presence, though chaotic, is oddly reassuring.

- Later, as you both sit in the dim light, John lights another cigarette, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “You’ve got to be more careful, love,” he says quietly. “I’ve got enough demons to fight—I don’t need to be worrying about losing you too.” His love is raw, messy, and laced with his own brand of charm, but it’s as real and unshakable as the man himself.

Roy Harper aka. Arsenal

- Roy notices your bandaged hand the moment he steps in. “What the hell happened?” he asks, his voice laced with concern, though his trademark smirk softens the words. He takes your hand gently, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “You didn’t think to call me? I’m literally a pro at making bad decisions—and patching them up after.”

- “Alright, sit tight,” he says, pulling out a first aid kit with a flourish. His movements are surprisingly precise, honed from years of taking care of himself and others. “This isn’t bad, but next time, maybe call me before you go all DIY warrior,” he jokes, though the worry in his eyes betrays his casual tone.

- Roy insists on helping you finish the project, despite your protests. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you do this alone?” he says, grabbing a hammer with an exaggerated show of confidence. His work is a mix of skill and chaos—he’s good at what he does, but his playful energy keeps things unpredictable.

- As you work together, Roy’s humor keeps you laughing. “You know, I once tried to fix a broken bow. Ended up breaking three more,” he says, grinning at the memory. He’s full of stories, each one more absurd than the last, but they’re all delivered with a charm that makes you forget about the mess around you.

- Later, as you both sit back to admire the (somewhat chaotic) results, Roy pulls you close, his arm slung around your shoulders. “You mean the world to me, you know that?” he says, his voice softer than usual. “Don’t scare me like that again, alright?” His love is messy but wholehearted, a constant reminder that you’re his anchor in a turbulent world.

Koriand’r aka. Starfire

- Kori’s luminous green eyes widen in concern when she sees your bandaged hand. “Oh no, my love, what has happened?” she asks, taking your hand delicately in hers. Her warmth radiates through her touch as she examines the wound. “Does it pain you? Please, tell me how I can help.”

- She gently kisses your hand, her lips soft and glowing faintly. “On Tamaran, we believe healing begins with love,” she says, her voice filled with sincerity. She insists on tending to the injury herself, her movements careful and deliberate. Her concern is almost palpable, her love for you evident in every action.

- Kori is eager to assist with your project, her strength and enthusiasm turning what could have been a chore into an exciting adventure. “Let us work together,” she says, her smile bright enough to light up the room. Watching her lift heavy beams effortlessly and handle tools with childlike curiosity is both impressive and endearing.

- As you work side by side, Kori shares stories of her home planet. “On Tamaran, we build homes with our families, singing songs of unity and joy,” she says, her voice rich with nostalgia. Her passion for her culture and her desire to share it with you make the task feel meaningful and connected.

- At the end of the day, Kori pulls you into her embrace, her warmth enveloping you like sunlight. “You are my heart,” she says softly, her glowing eyes meeting yours. “I cannot bear the thought of you in pain.” She kisses your forehead tenderly, her love as radiant and boundless as the stars she comes from.

Kara Zor-El aka. Supergirl

- Kara’s superhuman senses catch your injury before you even try to hide it. “Wait—what happened to your hand?” she asks, her tone a mix of concern and mild panic. She’s by your side in an instant, her blue eyes scanning your bandage with laser-like focus. “You didn’t think to call me? I could’ve been here in a second!”

- She insists on checking your injury, her touch gentle despite her immense strength. “It’s not too bad, but I’m still worried,” she admits, biting her lip as she adjusts the bandage. “Next time, promise me you’ll let me help, okay?” Her voice is firm but filled with a tenderness that makes your heart melt.

- Kara takes over the renovation project with her usual enthusiasm, zipping around at super-speed to get things done. “This is so much easier than stopping meteors,” she jokes, flashing you a bright smile. Despite her incredible abilities, she makes sure to include you, asking for your input and slowing down to let you participate.

- As you work, Kara shares stories of Krypton, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and pride. “Back home, we had machines to do most of this,” she says, a wistful smile crossing her face. “But I think there’s something special about doing it with your own hands—especially when it’s for someone you love.”

- Later, Kara wraps you in a warm hug, her strength carefully restrained but her affection boundless. “You’re my connection to this world,” she says softly, resting her forehead against yours. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Her love is like sunlight—pure, strong, and life-giving, a constant source of warmth and light in your life.

Slade Wilson aka. Deathstroke

- Slade notices your injury immediately, his single eye narrowing as he steps closer. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low and commanding. He takes your hand in his gloved one, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examines the bandage. “You’ve been careless,” he says, though his tone carries more concern than reprimand.

- Without a word, Slade pulls out a compact medical kit, his movements precise and efficient. “You should have called me,” he mutters, his focus entirely on your wound. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” His care is methodical, almost clinical, but the way his fingers linger just slightly on your skin betrays his deeper feelings.

- Slade insists on taking over the renovation, his natural leadership coming through as he assesses the task. “Stand back,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. Watching him work is like watching a soldier in action—every movement calculated, every decision deliberate. “This isn’t my first time fixing something broken,” he quips, his dry humor catching you off guard.

- As he works, Slade shares fragments of his past, his gravelly voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. “This reminds me of when I used to build things with my son,” he says, his expression briefly softening. The glimpses of his humanity remind you of the man beneath the hardened exterior, the man who loves you in his own quiet, fierce way.

- Later, Slade pulls you close, his arm heavy and protective around your shoulders. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he says, his voice a low growl. “I’ve lost too much already—I’m not losing you.” He kisses your forehead briefly but firmly, his love intense and unyielding, like the man himself—a force that shields you from the world’s dangers, even as he battles his own demons.

Kent Nelson aka. Doctor Fate

- Kent’s piercing eyes behind the shimmering Helmet of Fate immediately fixate on your injured hand. “What have you done, my love?” he asks, his voice a blend of the mystical and the concerned. Without hesitation, he removes the helmet, his human side taking precedence. His hands, warm and steady, gently cradle yours as he inspects the wound.

- “This is a simple injury,” he murmurs, his voice calm but resolute. “But even the smallest wounds can lead to chaos if left untended.” A golden light surrounds his hand as he softly incants an ancient spell. The pain fades, replaced by a soothing warmth, though Kent remains watchful. “You must remember, you are precious to me beyond measure.”

- When he sees the half-finished renovation, Kent sighs softly. “It seems I have another task to tend to,” he says with a faint smile. With a wave of his hand, the room begins to shift and transform, guided by his mystical prowess. “Though I prefer to use magic sparingly, I believe this situation calls for a touch of Fate,” he teases lightly.

- As the room repairs itself under his guidance, Kent tells you stories of the endless mystic realms he has traversed. “In the realm of Amathur, they build their homes from living crystal, attuned to their souls,” he says, his voice carrying the weight of eons. His stories are mesmerizing, painting a picture of a universe far beyond your imagination.

- That evening, as the golden glow of his magic fades, Kent pulls you close, his mortal and immortal selves blending seamlessly in his affection for you. “You ground me, even amidst the chaos of the cosmos,” he whispers. “Do not let harm come to you, for you are my anchor to this world.” His love is profound and eternal, like the ancient forces he commands.

Rachel Roth aka. Raven

- Rachel notices the bandage immediately, her dark, violet eyes narrowing. “What happened?” she asks, her voice calm but laced with quiet concern. She steps closer, her fingers brushing against yours lightly. “You didn’t think to tell me?” she adds, her tone carrying just a hint of exasperation masked by worry.

- A soft, dark aura emanates from her hands as she murmurs a healing spell. “Let me take away the pain,” she says softly, her magic soothing the injury. “But next time, be more careful.” Her words are firm, but the tenderness in her actions speaks volumes about her love for you.

- Rachel insists on helping with the renovation, though her approach is unconventional. Using her magic, she levitates tools and materials, fixing everything with an eerie precision. “Why struggle when there’s an easier way?” she quips, a rare hint of humor gracing her usually serious demeanor.

- As she works, Rachel shares pieces of her past, her voice quiet but steady. “I used to dream of having a home like this—something stable, something real,” she admits. Her vulnerability in those moments is a reminder of the strength it takes for her to let you in, to allow herself to love and be loved.

- Later, as the room takes on a serene, almost otherworldly perfection, Rachel sits with you in the quiet. “I’m not used to caring this much,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you… you’ve shown me that it’s okay to let someone in.” Her love is deep and shadowed, like the magic she wields—powerful, transformative, and utterly consuming.

Zatanna Zatara aka. Zatanna

- “What’s this?” Zatanna asks, her sharp blue eyes immediately noticing your bandaged hand. She sets down her wand and takes your hand in hers, her touch warm and gentle. “You’ve been playing with tools without supervision, haven’t you?” she teases, though her concern is clear.

- “Let me fix this,” she says with a wink. She waves her hand, her words spoken backward as a soft, golden light surrounds your injury. “Esael ruoy niaP,” she says, and the pain dissipates. “Much better,” she adds with a playful smile. “But seriously, call me next time.”

- Zatanna insists on finishing the renovation with you, though her methods are far from ordinary. “Why use a hammer when you have magic?” she says, summoning tools and materials with a flick of her wrist. The room transforms under her guidance, every detail touched with a bit of theatrical flair.

- As she works, Zatanna keeps you entertained with stories of her performances and her magical adventures. “There was this one time in Paris where my spell accidentally turned an entire café into a circus,” she says, laughing. Her humor and charisma make even the mundane feel magical, her presence a constant source of joy.

- That night, as the newly restored room glows with a faint magical shimmer, Zatanna pulls you into her arms. “You’re my favorite audience,” she says softly, her voice filled with affection. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?” Her love is vibrant and enchanting, a spell that binds you to her in the most wonderful way.

Wally West aka. Flash

- Wally zips into the room and immediately notices your hand. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—what happened here?” he asks, his words coming almost as fast as he moves. He’s by your side in an instant, gently taking your injured hand in his. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve been here in seconds!”

- He rushes to grab a first aid kit, moving so quickly you barely see him leave. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he says as he carefully rewraps your bandage. Despite his speed, his touch is gentle, his eyes full of concern. “Promise me you’ll let me help next time, okay?”

- Wally insists on finishing the renovation, his super-speed turning the task into a blur of activity. “This is easy,” he says with a grin, fixing things faster than you can even follow. “But hey, don’t blink—you might miss my best work!” His enthusiasm is infectious, making the entire process feel like a game.

- As he works, Wally keeps you laughing with his endless jokes and stories. “Did I ever tell you about the time I outran a black hole?” he says, his grin widening. His energy is boundless, his humor a constant source of lightness and joy in your life.

- Later, as the room stands perfectly completed, Wally pulls you close, his usual hyperactivity giving way to a rare moment of stillness. “You’re my world,” he says softly, his voice steady and sincere. “I can’t imagine life without you.” His love is like his speed—unstoppable, all-encompassing, and always rushing to your side.

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bats-and-the-birds · 1 month ago

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I am bouncing around teen titans headcanons in my brain, and bare with me because I refuse to learn the actual teen titans rosters so this is entirely just the characters that live in my head

but like

You are Koriand'r of Tamaran. You are young. They call you Starfire, which is almost your name. You have survived war, and invasion, and torture, and you are angry. This world is not your own, but you will defend it nonetheless. You are a child, and a princess, and a hero, and that is too many identities for one person to hold, but they are all yours, and you will hold them all while defending the people that you will never be a part of.

You are Wally West. You are young. This was your dream. You idolized the Flash, hung his posters on the walls of your childhood bedroom, and now you get to fight beside him. You just didn't know it would hurt this much. You wouldn't trade this for anything, but you are a child, and you never thought that you'd actually be a superhero, and you never fully considered what that would mean. You still have the posters on your wall, but sometimes you consider tearing them down. You will never be normal again.

You are Donna Troy. You are young. This is not your first life, and it will not be your last, but you do not know that. You were made from a mirror; a copy of someone great. You know you can be great too, but sometimes you fear the concept of reflection. You are a child, and the weight of the world is on your shoulders. You think you can carry it. You have to.

You are Garth. You are young. This is your planet, but not your world. You come from somewhere far different from the people you now protect. It hardly matters though. Your people rejected you too. You're not human, but you're not exactly alien either. The surface is not your home, you don't think, but it's hard to call the ocean your home either. You are a child, and you belong nowhere.

You are Roy Harper. You are young. Everyone thinks that Green Arrow taught you how to shoot a bow, but he didn't. You idolized the hero that you now get to work with, but things are beginning to sour. You are a child, and the world is cruel, and you are angry, and it doesn't matter how many people you save because you can't fix that. You're not sure how much longer you can take this.

You are Dick Grayson. They are young but you are younger. You made a group of people who are like you, but they're still not like you, are they? You are singular, and that is lonely. You are at once younger, yet more experienced. More human, yet more strange. You are not alien, or superpowered, or magic, or aquatic. You think you are human, but now you have Roy to compare yourself to and that doesn't seem right anymore. You are a child, and you have to believe that you have been trained well enough to survive past that.

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lady-corrine · 18 days ago

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This is why I need Batman writers to not even speak Kory's name, let alone write her or be anywhere in her proximity.

In Kory's own very words, how beautiful or sexy she is, is the least interesting thing about her:

Kory is... god, I don't even have enough words. She is extraordinary! She is intelligent, she is wise, she is kind and gentle and loving, she is brave, compassionate and nurturing. She survived and escaped so many unspeakable horrors, from rape to torture, and she never lost her heart or her light or her belief in being good and doing good.

At the same time, she is an extremely skilled fighter, with queen Hippolyta herself saying that Kory's only rival is her own daughter, Diana. Kory was trained in every fighting art, she is a warrior, a princess who sacrificed herself to save and defend her people and her planet. She excels in battle and strategy and she has a formidable temper. She is incredibly powerful, curageous and determined, and she very well can be terrifying when fighting criminals.

She would never back down from a fight or from defending those in need. She will always stand for truth, justice, love and acceptance. She has such a deep love for other women, for her friends, for her lover, for life and the world!

She is an exceptional character in every single way, complex and layered, complicated and so much more than only a beautiful face and body. And she deserves so, so much better than being treated in such a way by some pathetic writers that seek to undermine her, ruin her and erase her simply because they hate her for being the love of Dick's life and because their brains are not intelligent enough to write such an incredible character!

nah but Grant Morrison’s highlight of kory being a sexy model is hilarious, he took the least important thing about her and decided thats what the root issue is lmao

Imagine you have a strong heart, a wealth of skills, you are running on bar with the supers and the Amazonian, actual royal states and education, announced worthy of carrying the warrior spirit by the lords of okkara, an amazing friend, a loyal partner a princess to her people to the end. But a person decided that your side gig is where it all hinges

#I literally got tears in my eyes while writing all of this because she doesn't deserve to be treated like this - she doesn't!#she is so inspiring and revolutionary #she means so MUCH and it's no wonder she is so beloved to this day because she deserves all the love and more!#and I firmly stand by my opinion that Kory fighting apartheid protecting black people and such is one of the huge reasons why she is hated #by the conservative writers in dc #one day she'll get the recognition she deserves! one day! 🥹🙏🏻#koriand'r #starfire

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hunterofartemis7 · 1 year ago

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Pt.10

Damain: well?

Asshole doctor: I have nothing to apologize for! She’s just a teenager with and her pregnancy hormones make her exaggerate!

Jason; pregnancy hormones!?

Raven:…..

Kori: shit

Tim: you’re pregnant!?

Raven:..*nods, tearing up again* I wanted to tell you myself…..😣

Jason: *draws his knife* okay so not only will you pay for making her cry the first time and insulting her, but also for ruining her chance to tell us she’s pregnant on her own terms!

Asshole doctor: you can’t do anything to me! We’re in a hospital! The security will have you arrested!

Tim: good point. *drags him outside by his hair*

Damian: *smirks*

Dick: we got this asshole covered little d. Go back with Rae and see your baby.

Raven: thanks dick..

Dick: don’t mention it, and congratulations!! *hugs her tightly* we are so celebrating after now I gotta go! *runs after Tim*

Jason: *ruffles her hair* congratulations kiddo. *follows dick and Tim outside*

Very Nice doctor: Miss? Are you ready?

Raven: *nods*

Very Nice doctor: alright. *brings her back in the room with Damian and Kori* Did he check any vitals before being an ass?

Raven: no…

Very nice doctor: I’m sorry Hun. I don’t know why he wasn’t fired yet. *checks her blood pressure, blood sugar, heart rate breathing etc.*

Damian: *staring her down like a hawk*

Very nice doctor: don’t worry sir, I’m got gonna hurt her

Damian: hm

Very nice doctor: well your BP is a bit high, but that’s to be expected considering what just happened. Blood sugar is also a bit lower than we’d like, but Your heart and lungs sound good.

Raven:..is that gonna hurt the baby?

Very nice doctor: right now it shouldn’t. You’re stressed so it’s understandable to have a higher BP than normal. Your blood sugar is more what I’m worried about. Have you eaten anything today?

Raven: yeah..but I can’t keep anything down

Very nice doctor: how often are you throwing up?

Raven: pretty often..I don’t exact times

VND: that’s okay hun. And it says in your records your anemic right?

Raven: *nods*

VND: are you on any iron supplements?

Raven: no ma’am..

VND: okay. If its alright I’d like to put you on some for the rest of the pregnancy, as well as prenatal vitamins and some meds to help with the nausea

Kori: are all these meds good for her?

VND: yes. One is just vitamins, the other is similar, mostly just to get some iron in her system. The nausea meds are the only “medication” she’ll actually be on. And don’t worry, I won’t prescribe her anything that wasn’t safe for her and baby.

Kori: okay.

VND: now with all that out of the way, you ready to see your baby?

Raven: yes!!

VND: *smiles* okay, lay down hun.

Raven: *lays down on the bed*

VND: *puts a blanket over her and pulls her hospital gown up* fair warning, this is gonna be cold. *gets that weird jell stuff that they use for ultrasound and puts it on her belly*

Raven: *flinched from the cold*

VND: sorry

Raven: it’s okay..

Damian: *holds her hand beside her*

Raven: *small squeeze*

VND: you ready?

Raven: yes

VND: *puts the wand (I think that’s what it’s called) on her abdomen*

Raven: *watching the screen waiting to see the baby*

VND: *points at the small bean* and there’s your baby

Raven:..🥹

Damian: *smiles with happy tears in his eyes* it’s small🥹

VND: yes it is. Your 6 weeks right now, and baby has a strong heart beat

Kori: 🥹 it’s so precious..

Raven: *happy crying* our baby..*looks at Damian* I can’t wait to meet it..🥹

Damian: *kisses her and her belly* I can’t wait either. I’m already in love with it

VND: you two are adorable

*meanwhile outside*

Cop: so one more time….why are you beating up a doctor?🤦🏻‍♀️

Jason: cause he is very very rude and unprofessional to his patients and made our sister in law to be cry.

Tim: and we have about 200+ different complaints about him that the hospital keeps throwing in the trash

Cop:….i don’t get paid enough

#damian x raven #damirae #raven dc #raven roth #raven teen titans #damian wayne #robin damian #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #koriand'r #protective #pregnancy

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robinvomit · 2 months ago

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† colors. : various.

⋆˙⟡ Their love is not just a feeling; it’s a color, a spectrum, a living, breathing hue that wraps around you, soaking into your bones. It lingers in the air they leave behind, in the spaces they carve out for you, in the way they love differently, but fully.

⋆˙⟡ featuring: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, duke thomas, stephanie brown, cassandra cain, selina kyla, harley quinn, bruce wayne, diana prince, clark kent, oliver queen, barry allen, bart allen, kon-el, dinah lance, rachel roth, koriand'r. ↦ kalico note: some of the colors are a tad bit bright, a heads up. edited and posted by tellie.

dick grayson is cerulean. the kind of blue that belongs to an open sky on a summer evening, warm and vast and endless. his love feels like movement, like momentum, like wind rushing against your skin when he pulls you into a spin, laughter tangled between you. he is the color of freedom, of unwavering light, of open arms that never hesitate to catch you. his love is the kind that fills every corner of a room, every empty space of your heart, without asking for anything in return. but there is depth to it, too—a weight, a shadow, an ocean underneath the sky. a grief he carries, a loyalty so deeply ingrained that it aches. he is the kind of blue that never fades, never leaves, never stops shining, even in the dark.

"love me with the lights on. with the sun shining, with my scars visible, with my past still tangled in my shadow. love me when it’s easy, and love me when it’s not. because if you do? i will love you the same - every day, every second, for the rest of my life."

jason todd is deep carmine. not red - not just rage, not just fire - but something darker, something richer. a color that runs thick and heavy, like spilled ink, like a love that stains and refuses to wash away. his love is fierce, protective, the kind that fights first and asks questions later. it’s in the roughness of his hands, the sharp edges of his affection, the way he never says the words but makes sure you feel them in every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every time he puts himself between you and the world. he is the color of a love that refuses to be forgotten, that will never let you slip through his fingers - not again. because jason does not lose the people he loves. not if he can help it.

"i don’t say things i don’t mean. i don’t love halfway. if i love you, it’s because i have decided, with every part of me, that you are worth every risk. every fight. every heartbeat."

tim drake is slate grey. a shade caught between dusk and dawn, the color of quiet love, of soft devotion tucked between layers of exhaustion. his love is subtle, never loud, never demanding. it lingers in the extra cup of coffee waiting on the counter, in the way his hand finds yours under the table, in the way he memorizes the little things - how you take your tea, the way you tilt your head when you're thinking, the songs you hum under your breath. he is methodical, logical, always one step ahead, but when it comes to love? he is hesitant, uncertain, afraid of what it means to need. but the grey of him is not cold—it is steady, grounding, a presence that does not waver, even in the storm.

"i don’t know how to be reckless with my heart. if i let you have it, it’s because i trust you to keep it. and i’ve never trusted anyone like this before."

damian wayne is viridian. a green so rich, so deep, it feels alive. his love is not soft - it is sharp, unyielding, an armor forged in steel and fire. he does not love lightly, does not waste his affections on those who have not earned them. but when he does - when you are his - there is no force in the world that will stand against him. he is the color of loyalty that does not falter, of tradition and honor woven into something new, something his own. his love is in the careful way his fingers brush against yours, in the way his blade is always sharper when he knows you're near, in the way he watches, watches, watches - as if memorizing you is as important as breathing. because to damian, love is not just a feeling. it is a choice. a duty. a promise. and he does not break promises.

"if i love you, it is not a fleeting thing. it is not a moment. it is not a choice i can unmake. it is something written into me, something that cannot be undone. it is forever."

duke thomas is goldenrod. a color that stretches between yellow and orange, caught between light and warmth, a sun that never fully sets. his love is effortless, easy, slipping into your life like he was always meant to be there. he is the color of laughter after a long day, of an arm thrown around your shoulders, of the way he leans into you like you're gravity itself. he loves without hesitation, without fear, without any of the walls the others build so carefully around their hearts. his warmth is something real, something tangible, something that does not fade even in the darkest of nights. because duke has seen the worst the world has to offer and still, he chooses to shine.

"the world gets dark sometimes. people lose their way. but if you ever need a light, if you ever need something steady, just look for me - i’ll be shining for you."

stephanie brown is orchid. a shade that is bright and bold and impossible to ignore, yet soft in the right light, a bloom that refuses to wither. her love is wild and untamed, spontaneous and reckless, laughter bursting through the cracks of her own hardships. she loves the way she fights - all in, no second-guessing. it’s in the way she teases, the way she nudges you with her shoulder, the way she makes everything feel lighter, even when the weight is unbearable. but there is depth to it, too. a stubborn, relentless kind of devotion. because steph knows what it is to be left behind, to be overlooked, to be told she is too much or not enough. and she will never let you feel that way. not as long as she’s here.

"i know what it feels like to be forgotten, to be left behind, to be looked over like i was never there. and i swear, i swear - i will never let you feel that way. not as long as i’m here."

cassandra cain is onyx. not black - not empty, not void - but deep, endless, full of something unspoken. her love is silent, but it is there, strong and steady and never uncertain. she does not say it - she does not need to. it’s in the way her hands linger at your wrist, in the way she moves in sync with you without a word, in the way she touches you like she is learning a language she already knows by heart. she is the color of a night that does not threaten but protects, a shadow that wraps around you, shielding you from the world. she does not love halfway, does not love lightly. when she loves, it is complete. absolute. unbreakable.

"i don’t say much. but if you listen, really listen, you’ll hear it in everything i do. the way i touch you. the way i stay close. the way i always, always find you. that is my love. that is my promise."

selina kyle is midnight violet. dark, sultry, untouchable - a color that lingers on your fingertips but never lets you hold it completely. her love is elusive, teasing, something you have to chase, something that keeps you on your toes. it’s in the smirk, the way she flicks her gaze over you like she knows exactly what you want and delights in making you wait for it. but when she loves? truly, deeply, completely? she loves like a huntress watching her prey, like a shadow curling around the edges of your life - silent, steady, always there, even when you don’t see it.

"i’m not easy to keep. i am not soft, or tame, or made for cages. but if i choose you - if i stay - it means more than words ever could."

harley quinn is electric magenta. too bright, too bold, too much, and she doesn’t care. she never dims herself. she loves like she laughs - wild, reckless, with both feet off the edge of the world, daring gravity to stop her. she pulls you into the storm of her, wraps you up in neon pink chaos, makes the whole damn world feel louder, bigger, messier, but she never lets you feel lost in it. because beneath all of it - the teasing, the mischief, the madness - is a love that is unshakable. a love that says, "you and me, babe, against the world. whaddya say?"

"love shouldn’t be boring, sugar. it should be a mess. it should be fireworks and chaos and a goddamn adventure. and i wanna spend every second of that adventure with you."

bruce wayne is obsidian black, laced with traces of dark blue. the color of midnight just before dawn, of the sky when the city lights flicker against it, of something that swallows the light but protects it, too. his love is quiet but absolute, a presence you feel even when you cannot see it. he does not love in grand declarations - he loves in actions, in protection, in the way he never lets go even when he convinces himself he should. his love is the kind that waits in the shadows, unwavering, always watching, always ensuring you are safe even when you don’t know it. and when he finally lets himself have this, have you - he loves with a devotion that nothing in this world could ever shake.

"i do not say it often. i do not say it easily. but if you asked me a thousand times whether i loved you, the answer would never change."

diana prince is deep azure, edged in gold. the color of the sky before a storm, of ancient oceans untouched by time, of something that exists beyond human understanding. her love is a battle hymn and a lullaby in the same breath - ferocious, all-encompassing, endless. she does not love softly, nor does she love halfway. she loves like the gods themselves carved it into her bones. it is in the weight of her shield when she stands before you, in the warmth of her hands when she wipes away your fears, in the absolute certainty of her voice when she swears - "i am here." because to diana, love is not just an emotion. it is a duty. a purpose. a promise. and her promises never break.

"you do not need to earn my love. it was yours before you even knew to ask for it."

clark kent is golden wheat, kissed by the afternoon sun. the color of home, of open fields stretching far beyond the horizon, of something warm and steady and unshakable. his love is gentle, but never weak. it’s in the way he cups your cheek like you are something fragile, in the way his arms feel like the safest place in the universe, in the way his voice drops to something softer when he says your name. he loves like the earth loves the sky - without question, without hesitation, as if it was always meant to be. his warmth is endless, a constant light even in the darkest nights. because clark doesn’t just love you. he believes in you. and that is a kind of love that never fades.

"wherever i go, however far, however long - i will always come back to you. because you are my home."

oliver queen is autumn ember. the color of burnt orange leaves caught in the wind, of bourbon in a crystal glass, of firelight flickering in the distance - warm, rich, untamed. his love is bold, unapologetic, teasing in the way only he can be. he loves with a smirk, with a wink, with the ease of someone who has lost before and refuses to waste another second. but beneath all of it - beneath the sarcasm, the charm, the devil-may-care attitude - there is something real. something certain. because oliver may be reckless, but his love is not. his love is deliberate. his love is permanent. his love is yours.

"you’ve got my heart, sweetheart. don’t be gentle with it. i can take the hit."

barry allen is lightning blue, streaked with white-hot energy. the color of the sky when a storm breaks, of the spark behind a smile that comes too quick, of something brighter than it has any right to be. his love is movement, laughter, fingertips brushing against yours before disappearing just as fast. it’s breathless, effortless, a spark that never quite goes out. but it is steady, too - because no matter how fast he runs, no matter how time bends, he always finds his way back to you. barry allen’s love is the kind that makes you feel alive, that makes the whole damn world feel like it’s going at your speed for once.

"you are the only thing in my life i never had to chase. because somehow, you were always waiting for me."

bart allen is honey-gold, edged in sunrise. the color of mischief, of boundless energy, of something that refuses to be contained. his love is bright, reckless, untamed, the kind of love that crashes into you at full speed and never looks back. it’s in the way he grins, in the way he pulls you into his orbit, in the way he never lets go. but beneath the playfulness, beneath the endless motion, there is something softer. something aching. because bart knows what it is to be alone, to be out of place, to be too much, too fast, too loud. but you? you are something to hold onto. something that doesn’t slip through his fingers. and he will never let you go.

"you slow the world down for me. no one’s ever done that before."

kon-el is deep ultramarine, edged in silver. the color of a sky just before nightfall, of something caught between two worlds, of something searching for where it belongs. his love is bold, brash, obvious in a way that demands attention. he loves like he fights - all in, no hesitation, no regrets. but there is something else to it, too. something quiet. something in the way he leans into you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, in the way he lingers in your space without needing a reason, in the way he never quite stops watching you, like he’s trying to memorize you just in case. because kon-el has always been a copy, an almost, a question. but with you? he is real. he is whole. he is home.

"i don’t care what i was made to be. i only care that i’m yours."

dinah lance is sapphire, deep and electric. the color of a voice that can shatter glass, of a storm that has learned to hold itself back, of something powerful even when it is still. her love is fierce, protective, unapologetic. she loves like music - a melody that lingers in your bones, a song that stays long after the sound fades. she is the kind of woman who could break the world if she wanted to, but she chooses to hold you instead. and when she does? the whole damn world could fall apart, and she wouldn’t let go.

"the world is loud, but my heart is louder when you’re near."

rachel roth is amethyst dusk. the color of the sky just before it surrenders to night, of deep waters that hold their own secrets, of something silent but never empty. her love is not loud, not overwhelming - it is something you feel in the quiet, in the space between words, in the way she lingers near even when she says nothing. it is cautious, careful, because she has been taught that love is dangerous, that emotions are something to fear. but when she lets herself feel, when she lets herself love - it is something unlike anything else. it is not a wildfire, not a storm, but something deeper, something eternal.

"you make the world quieter. you make the shadows softer. you make me believe that love does not have to hurt."

koriand'r is solar flare gold. the color of burning suns, of radiant warmth, of something too bright, too boundless, too full of love to be contained. she loves without hesitation, without question, without fear. she does not hold back. when she loves you, it is in the way her hands find yours instinctively, in the way she lifts her face to the sky and laughs, in the way she speaks your name like it is something precious. she does not just bring warmth - she is warmth. she is light and fire and every good thing the universe has ever given.

"i have loved many things in this world - the stars, the sun, the way the ocean reflects the sky. but you, you are my favorite thing the universe has ever made."

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 4 months ago

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Closed Doors - A Badwing au Fanfic

by thewingedarmadillo Dick Grayson is not a good person, and nobody ever believes Jay when he says that. Jay just wants to keep himself and Tim safe. Especially after the Titans Tower incident. Words: 1646, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: Gen, Other Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jim Gordon (DCU), Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul, Kate Kane (DCU), Slade Wilson, Roy Harper, Wally West, Koriand'r (DCU) Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r Additional Tags: Dick Grayson is Batman, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd-centric, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Protective Jason Todd, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt Jason Todd, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason Todd Whump, Tim Drake Needs a Hug (DCU), Tim Drake and Jason Todd are Siblings, Tim Drake is Robin (DCU), Baby Tim Drake, Tim Drake Whump (DCU), Bad Parent Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne Has Issues via https://ift.tt/hYe2EDs

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

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gffa · 1 year ago

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YES, I LOVE HER. Taking a moment to focus on Kory's determination not to let another invading force take more people from the world she's vowed to protect, to show the hell she's been through and why she isn't doing this just out of anger, but that I can feel that this is because she loves the people of Earth, that this WILL NOT HAPPEN so long as she can still get up and fight, even if the Titans aren't doing this perfectly, she still is already up and fighting, I just love Koriand'r a lot.

#lumi.txt #dc #titansfam #koriand'r #titans 2023 #tuesday spoilers

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eclipixels · 2 months ago

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Sunshine

Dick Grayson x Koriand'r

Content: Things take an unexpected turn when Dick spends the afternoon in the blazing sun with Mar'i

[1,101 words]

A small, dark-haired toddler named Mar’i gleefully chased a butterfly through the lush backyard of her cozy home. The sun beat down, casting the world in a golden haze as the air hummed with the warmth of a summer weekend. Inside, Mama Kory was still curled up, sound asleep after a long, tiring patrol the night before.

Dick was the first to rise, his morning routine immediately taking priority. He was solely in charge of his little girl until Kory woke up. With practiced care, Dick guided Mar’i through her morning—helping her brush her teeth, comb her wild curls, and get dressed for the day. He even managed to whip up a breakfast to start the day right. It was a familiar routine he and Kory shared, balancing their responsibilities as parents and partners in a rhythm they'd perfected over time.

After finishing her book on Tamaranean mythology, Mar’i’s interest waned, her toys forgotten for the moment. She turned to her father with bright eyes and asked if she could go outside. With a smile, Dick agreed, more than happy to indulge her curiosity.

Before long, father and daughter were in the backyard, with Mar’i’s curls bouncing in the sunlight as she ran in pursuit of the butterfly. Dick watched her with a smile, his heart full. It was hard not to be in awe of the little girl who embodied so much of both him and Kory.

Mar’i’s voice broke through his thoughts as she dashed back toward him. "Dada, I wanna go to Mama, please," she said, her big eyes wide and filled with longing.

“She’s still sleeping, sweetheart. Let’s let her rest. Mama had a rough night,” Dick answered gently, hoping she’d understand.

“Pleaassseee?” Mar’i begged, pouting and giving him a look that could melt anyone’s heart. Her little nose and cheeks flushed with a soft red tint, making it even harder to resist.

“I’m sorry, Mar’i, but we have to wait. Besides, she’ll wake up soon, probably before you even notice. Come on, how about some ice cream?” Dick offered, knowing that distraction was his best bet.

“Hmph. Fine.” Mar’i crossed her arms, a frown forming on her small face. The look reminded Dick of his own childhood, when his parents had said no to something he wanted. He chuckled to himself, amazed at how much of both himself and Kory was in their daughter, their little creation of love and joy.

Dick set Mar’i on the couch and headed into the kitchen to look for ice cream. However, as he began rummaging through the freezer, he realized he hadn’t asked Mar’i what flavor she wanted.

“Mar’i, sweetheart? What flavor do you want?” he called, already grabbing his own favorite.

“Mar’i?” he asked again, louder this time, but received no response.

Growing mildly concerned, Dick went to check on her, but she was nowhere to be found. His heart didn’t race, though—after all, he was a vigilante, trained by the Dark Knight himself. Staying calm in situations like this was second nature.

But then he remembered: Mar’i was the daughter of Nightwing and Starfire. She didn’t take “no” for an answer, and that included waiting for her mom. Dick couldn’t help but smile to himself as he made his way toward the master bedroom. He found Kory peacefully sleeping, snoring softly and tangled in the sheets.

Good, Mar’i hadn’t tried to wake her up yet, but still, where was she? As if on cue, there was a loud crash from the kitchen, immediately jolting Kory awake. Both parents rushed to the source of the noise, their concern growing with each step.

In the kitchen stood Mar’i, holding the fridge door in her tiny hands, looking completely unfazed.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Dick asked, rushing over to her, his protective instincts kicking in. He and Kory both carefully checked for injuries.

“I went to my room to grab my Teddy, but the door fell off. I tried to fix it, but then this door came off too. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, Mama!” Mar’i burst into tears, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder as Dick gently rubbed her back.

“It’s okay, baby, it was an accident,” Dick reassured her, his voice soothing.

Kory set Mar’i down and grabbed the plate of breakfast Dick had prepared earlier. “Dick, did you have her outside in the sun for too long?” she asked, concern creeping into her voice as she studied their daughter.

“Yeah, we were in the yard for a while. Is everything okay?” Dick asked, puzzled by the whole situation as he worked to fix the fridge door back in place.

“Oh, X'hal…” Kory breathed out in realization. “It seems like she absorbed stellar radiation from the sun and turned it into energy. That’s why she was strong enough to rip the door off its hinges without any effort.”

“Whoops.” Dick scratched his head. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I was waiting until she was a little older,” Kory explained, sipping her coffee. “Most Tamaraneans start absorbing solar energy at around five, but Mar’i is only three. She’s not quite there yet.”

“Well, she’s not just Tamaranean, is she?” Dick grinned. “She’s half-human, courtesy of yours truly.” He winked at her playfully.

Kory laughed, shaking her head. “I guess you’re right. Also, ice cream for breakfast?”

“Hey, you’re having breakfast for lunch,” Dick teased. “I’m just following the proper schedule here.” He wrapped his arm around Kory’s waist, holding his ice cream cone in the other hand.

“And whose fault is it that I went to bed late and exhausted last night, Mr. Grayson?” Kory teased back, basking in the warmth of his touch.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Grayson. You tell me.” Dick smirked, his lips brushing over the purple love bite on her shoulder.

Kory laughed as she nudged him playfully. “I’ll tell you that we have an impatient daughter who needs her bedroom door fixed… and some strawberry ice cream.”

“Okay, okay,” Dick conceded, a boyish grin lighting up his face. He was beyond grateful for his two girls, who constantly filled his life with love and purpose. He headed to Mar’i’s room, ready to fix the door and make sure everything was okay.

When he arrived, he found Mar’i floating in mid-air, her small feet dangling above the ground. His jaw dropped in surprise.

“Hey, Star?” he called.

“Hm?” Kory responded from the kitchen.

“Mar’i is on the ceiling,” Dick said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

#dc comics #dcu #dc universe #dick gray #koriand'r #kori anders #kori and dick #dickkory #dick x kory #koryand'r #nightwing #starfire #nightwing x starfire

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