#Rachel Roth x Reader

[alixandra-multifandom-version]

Writing fanfiction isn't enough anymore I need that character to kiss me breathless

[urdreamydoodles]

For DC, would you mayhaps write about picking them up when they aren't expecting, or just didn't think you could, almighty writer?

DC COMICS CHARACTERS x FEM!READER

You pick them up as if they weighed absolutely nothing

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, Dinah Lance, Wally West, Victor Stone (Cyborg), Garfield Logan (Beast Boy) & Lobo

Reply to anon: If I understood your request correctly (I really hope so), I love you for this request, it was so fun to write this headcanon.

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

- It is a rare thing to catch Bruce Wayne off guard, a feat most would deem impossible. He is a man of precision, calculation, and control, his every move rehearsed in the dark solitude of his mind long before it is executed. And yet, when you lift him into your arms with the ease of a shadow passing over the city, all his legendary foresight shatters in an instant. His breath stutters—just once, imperceptible to anyone but you—and his gloved hands instinctively grasp your shoulders, as if to confirm the absurd reality of what is happening. The weight of Gotham’s protector, cradled so effortlessly against you, is a secret victory that sends a slow smile curling at the edges of your lips.

- "Tch," he exhales, the sound more air than voice, his dark eyes narrowing in something between astonishment and begrudging amusement. "You’ve been holding out on me." His pride does not allow him to admit the full extent of his surprise, but the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly against your arms betrays him. Bruce Wayne is not a man who enjoys being caught unaware, and yet—there is something in the way you handle him, something in the unwavering steadiness of your grip, that quiets the usual tension that knots his body like a bowstring drawn too tight.

- He does not struggle. He does not order you to put him down. No, he merely tilts his head, calculating, the sharp angles of his face betraying the ghost of a smirk. "I assume you have a reason for this," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear. "Or do you just enjoy surprising me?" It is a challenge, an invitation, and perhaps, in some small way, a confession. For all his formidable strength, for all the ways he has trained himself to never relinquish control—there is a part of him that does not mind being held by you.

- Later, when the moment has passed and Gotham calls him away once more, he does not mention it. But you notice the way his gaze lingers on you, the way his fingers brush against your wrist just a little longer than necessary. And when, the next time, you reach for him with that same effortless power, you swear you see the corner of his lips quirk upward—just for a second—before he allows himself to fall into your embrace.

Kal-El (Clark Kent, Superman)

- The sky belongs to him, the very air bending to his will, the world itself no heavier than a breath upon his palm. And yet, when you lift him into your arms, when you cradle the Man of Steel as if he were something as light and effortless as a whisper, it is his turn to be left breathless. His blue eyes widen—just slightly, just enough for you to catch the flicker of disbelief that dances through them like a shooting star. "Whoa," he exhales, the sheer sincerity in his voice making you laugh. "Did you—did you just—?"

- He does not finish his sentence, because the answer is obvious. He is here, weightless in your grasp, and despite all reason, he cannot quite seem to wrap his mind around it. He has lifted mountains, shifted tectonic plates, carried entire cities upon his back—but this, this is something entirely different. He peers down at you with a mixture of awe and delight, a boyish grin breaking across his features, and suddenly, he is not Superman, not the Last Son of Krypton, but simply Clark—a farm boy who has just been shown a new miracle in a world that he thought he had seen from every angle.

- "Well," he laughs, resting his hands lightly on your shoulders, his touch warm, steady. "I guess turnabout is fair play." He is not used to being the one lifted, the one held, and there is something undeniably endearing about the way he lets himself be carried, as if surrendering to the simple joy of the moment. His grin softens into something fonder, something gentler, and his voice dips to a lower timbre, laced with that impossible tenderness that only he can wield so effortlessly. "You are full of surprises, aren’t you?"

- Later, as you stand together beneath the open sky, he will wrap his arms around you and lift you high into the air, spinning you in a slow, weightless circle, as if to remind you that the universe still bows to his strength. But the truth, the quiet, unspoken truth, is that he will remember this moment—not for the sheer impossibility of it, not for the surprise of being lifted, but for the way you looked at him as you did it. As if he was something precious. As if he was something worth carrying.

Barry Allen (The Flash)

- One second, he is standing before you, mid-sentence, hands moving animatedly as he rambles about some impossible feat of science, some breakthrough that only his mind could possibly keep up with. And the next—he is airborne. Suspended. A blur of red and gold frozen in time as you hoist him effortlessly into your arms, his entire train of thought derailing so spectacularly that for the first time in what is possibly ever, Barry Allen is at a complete and utter loss for words.

- His blue eyes blink, wide with sheer, unfiltered astonishment. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, as if struggling to find a logical explanation for what just happened. "What—how did you—" He pauses, glances down at himself, then back at you. "Okay. Alright. This is fine. This is normal. Totally normal. This is a thing that happens." His words come faster now, a breathless tumble of disbelief and delight, and despite the initial shock, there is no fear—only pure, infectious amusement.

- And then he laughs. Oh, he laughs—bright and bubbling over, like the crackle of lightning against an open sky, his body practically vibrating with sheer giddiness. "I mean, I know I’ve swept you off your feet before, but this—this is a whole new level." His arms loop around your neck, dramatic and theatrical, his head tilting back as he lets himself be cradled as if he were some fairytale damsel. "Be honest, you’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?"

- He will tease you about this for weeks, recounting the moment with exaggerated flair to anyone who will listen. But there will also be the quiet moments—when he leans against you just a little more than usual, when his hands linger at your waist as if remembering the steady strength of your arms. And maybe, just maybe, the next time you catch him at full speed, he will let you lift him once more—just to feel, for a fleeting moment, what it’s like to be caught by you.

Diana of Themyscira (Wonder Woman)

- The daughter of gods, sculpted from sacred clay, raised among warriors whose strength is the stuff of legend. To surprise Diana is no easy task, for she has spent centuries honing herself into something divine, something unyielding. And yet—when you lift her into your arms, when you cradle her as if she were no heavier than a whispered prayer, the Goddess of Truth is rendered momentarily speechless.

- Her lips part, her brows lifting ever so slightly, and though she does not gasp, does not falter, there is an undeniable flicker of astonishment in her gaze. "You are stronger than you appear," she muses, her voice warm, touched with something akin to admiration. A warrior recognizes another, and in this moment, she sees you in a new light—not merely as her love, but as something formidable, something unexpected.

- And then, she smiles. Not a small smile, not a coy smirk, but something radiant—something that reaches her eyes, that sets her entire face alight with unmistakable joy. "Impressive," she hums, resting a steady hand against your shoulder. "Though, I must admit, I rather enjoy this perspective." There is a teasing lilt to her voice, a challenge dancing at the edges of her words. It is rare for anyone to hold her in such a way, but she finds, quite unexpectedly, that she does not mind it at all.

- Later, she will return the favor with ease, sweeping you into her arms without effort, carrying you across battlefields, across cities, across oceans. But in that moment, in the quiet space between surprise and laughter, she allows herself to rest in your hold, to relish the warmth of your embrace, to be held—not as a warrior, not as a princess, but simply as a woman who loves, and is loved in return.

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

- Arthur Curry is not a man accustomed to feeling small. He is a king, a warrior, a force of nature bound in muscle and salt, the weight of oceans resting upon his shoulders. He has wrestled sea monsters the size of mountains, stood unyielding against the fury of the abyss, and emerged from every battle with the untamed, feral grin of a man who belongs to the storm. But when you lift him—when your arms curl around him with a strength that defies reason, hoisting him off solid ground as if he were nothing but driftwood—his entire world tilts. His golden eyes widen, stunned, his calloused hands gripping instinctively at your shoulders as if the sea itself has betrayed him.

- "What the—?" His voice is a startled rumble, a sharp bark of laughter cutting through the shock. His thick brows furrow, then lift, his expression wavering somewhere between indignation and absolute, boyish delight. He has never been handled like this, not even by the tides he calls home, and it is as absurd as it is exhilarating. "Alright, alright, I get it," he grumbles, though his smirk betrays him. "You’ve been hiding those muscles from me, huh?" There is no protest, no attempt to reclaim his dominance—only the rough, teasing warmth of a man who knows when to yield to the unexpected.

- He tests you, just a little, shifting his weight in your arms as if daring you to drop him. But you don’t. Not even close. And something in his grin turns sharper, more wicked, because he loves this—loves being surprised, loves the way you refuse to let him be the only powerful one in the room. "Damn," he chuckles, low and approving, his gaze sweeping over you with something hungry, something possessive. "That’s actually kinda hot."

- When you finally put him down, he doesn’t step back. No, he lingers—crowds close, his massive frame still buzzing with the thrill of it. And then, without warning, his arms are around you, hoisting you off your feet with ease, spinning you in a full, dizzying circle before crushing you against his chest. "Had to return the favor," he murmurs against your ear, voice thick with laughter. "But next time, sweetheart? Give a king some warning before you knock him off his throne."

Hal Jordan (Green Lantern)

- Hal Jordan is weightless before you can even blink. A man accustomed to soaring, to the rush of flight beneath his ribs, he has never once imagined himself being lifted—not without the emerald glow of his will forging the sky beneath his feet. But now, here, in your arms, held effortlessly with no ring, no power beyond the sheer impossible strength of you—Hal is, for the first time in his life, truly speechless.

- "You—hold on, what?" His voice cracks, laughter bubbling out of him in a disbelieving rush. His hands press against your shoulders, his pulse hammering with something electric, something wild. "Oh, no way. No freaking way." His mouth splits into a grin, bright and reckless, his green eyes alight with sheer, giddy amusement. "Are you messing with me? Is this some kind of—?" But no, there’s no trickery, no constructs at play, just you, standing solid beneath him while the world spins wildly out of sync with everything he thought he knew.

- And he loves it. Oh, he loves it. Because Hal Jordan lives for the unexpected, for the thrill of new frontiers, for the rush of facing the impossible head-on. And you—lifting him like he’s nothing, standing there with that knowing smirk—you are a whole new adventure, and he is utterly, shamelessly hooked. "This is amazing," he declares, wrapping his arms around your neck, leaning in close, grinning like a devil who has just been handed the keys to heaven. "You do realize I’m never gonna let you live this down, right?"

- He doesn’t stop talking about it. Ever. The next time the League gathers, he flings an arm around your shoulder and grins at the others. "You guys won’t believe this," he announces, smug and gleeful. "This one? Picked me up like I was a damn sack of potatoes. I mean, look at me! Look at this!" And when the teasing inevitably turns back on him, when Barry is cackling and Diana is arching a knowing brow, Hal just shrugs, utterly unapologetic. "Hey," he says, looping his arms around you once more, flashing you that impossibly charming, infuriatingly smug grin. "What can I say? I’m into it."

Oliver Queen (Green Arrow)

- Oliver Queen has spent his life dancing on the edge of danger, slipping through shadows and fire with the unshakable confidence of a man who always lands on his feet. But this—this was not in his playbook. One moment, he’s standing there, all easy smirks and smooth arrogance, and the next? His feet leave the ground, his entire world tilting as you lift him with effortless strength, cradling him as if he were something delicate. And for the first time in years, Oliver Queen has no immediate comeback.

- "…You’ve got to be kidding me." His voice is flat, stunned, as his hands instinctively grip your shoulders. His green eyes blink once, twice, his mouth parting in absolute disbelief. "Did that just—did you just—?" And then it happens—the breathless chuckle, the slow realization, the sudden shift from shock to pure, unfiltered amusement. A wide, toothy grin breaks across his face, bright as wildfire, and before you know it, he’s laughing, full-bodied and unrestrained. "Oh, I love this," he gasps between chuckles, eyes gleaming. "I love this. Are you seeing this? Someone take a picture—no, wait, don’t, I have a reputation to uphold."

- He throws himself into the bit immediately, draping an arm over his forehead as if he’s some swooning noble. "My hero," he sighs dramatically, peeking at you from beneath his lashes. "How will I ever repay you for saving me from the perils of standing?" His grin is wicked, challenging, but there’s something beneath it—something warm, something fond, something that lingers even as his laughter fades into something quieter, something real.

- Later, when he’s sprawled beside you, still smirking, he nudges your side with his elbow. "You know," he muses, tapping his chin, "I think I might need saving again sometime soon." And then, without warning, he flings himself at you, arms wrapping around your neck with all the grace of a man who knows damn well you’ll catch him. "Quick, sweetheart," he grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Before gravity kicks back in."

John Constantine

- John Constantine has seen many things in his life—things that would shatter the minds of lesser men, things that slither and whisper in the dark, things that crawl beneath the skin of the world and rot it from the inside out. But this? This is something else entirely. One second, he’s standing there, cigarette between his lips, coat draped lazily over his shoulders, and the next? He’s airborne. Lifted. Weightless. And utterly, utterly done with this reality.

- "Bloody hell," he curses, his usual rasp of sarcasm momentarily failing him. His cigarette nearly tumbles from his lips as he grips at your arms, wide-eyed, indignant. "You having a laugh, love?" But you don’t waver, don’t so much as break a sweat, and that realization sends something flickering through his gaze—something wary, something intrigued, something dangerously close to impressed.

- "Well, that’s just embarrassing," he mutters, exhaling smoke through his nose, tilting his head as he eyes you with newfound consideration. "And here I thought I was the one with all the tricks up me sleeve." He shifts in your arms, testing the hold, then smirks, lazy and sharp. "Alright then. Carry on, darling. Just make sure you don’t drop me—I’d hate to spill me pint."

- Later, when he’s sitting with you, fingers tapping against his glass, he glances your way with something softer hidden beneath the bite of his words. "Next time," he murmurs, swirling his drink, "maybe give a bloke a warning before you decide to turn his world upside down, yeah?" But there’s no real protest, no real annoyance. Just the lingering, undeniable truth—he liked it. He liked you. And that, perhaps, is the most dangerous magic of all.

Roy Harper (Arsenal)

- Roy Harper has been thrown, knocked down, and sent flying more times than he can count. But this? This is different. One second, he’s standing there—grinning, cocky, weight shifted lazily onto one hip—and the next, his feet leave the ground. For the first time in a long time, Roy Harper is caught instead of doing the catching. His mouth opens, a sharp inhale of surprise, his arms flailing for balance, but there’s nothing for him to do except accept it. And he absolutely, completely does not know how to handle that.

- "H-hold up—wait—what the hell?" The words tumble from his lips in a startled bark of laughter, his hands instinctively clutching at your shoulders. His blue eyes are wide, scanning your face for some kind of explanation. "You just—how did you—?" His brain stutters over itself, trying to make sense of it. It’s not that he thinks you’re weak—hell no—but he knows how heavy he is, how solidly he’s built, and the fact that you lifted him like he was nothing? That’s something else entirely.

- Then, of course, the reality of it sinks in, and Roy Harper, being Roy Harper, does what he does best—he leans into it. "Damn, babe," he whistles, his signature smirk creeping across his face. "If I’d known you were this strong, I’d have made you carry me around ages ago." He shifts slightly in your arms, testing your grip, then settles in with an exaggerated sigh, draping an arm over his forehead like a damsel in distress. "Guess I don’t need to hit the gym anymore—got myself a personal lifter right here."

- And when you finally put him down? He doesn’t walk away. No, he sticks close, bumping his hip against yours, looking up at you with a mix of mischief and something warmer. "You’re full of surprises," he murmurs, his voice dropping just slightly, almost thoughtful. And then, with a wicked grin, he adds, "So... how do you feel about carrying me to bed, sweetheart?"

Koriand’r (Starfire)

- Koriand’r is no stranger to flight, to weightlessness, to the effortless way she moves through the sky with the sun’s fire at her back. But being lifted by you—by your hands, your strength, your unwavering confidence—is something she has never felt before. And it stuns her. Not out of fear, nor shock, nor disbelief—no, it is something softer, something warmer, something that spreads through her chest like the first rays of dawn.

- "Oh!" The delighted gasp slips from her lips as her arms instinctively wrap around your neck, golden eyes blinking in wide-eyed surprise. For a moment, she simply looks at you, studying your face, as if committing this feeling to memory. And then, as quickly as the surprise came, it melts into sheer, unrestrained joy. "Oh, my love!" she exclaims, her voice a bright melody of laughter, her fingers tangling in your hair as she tilts her head. "This is wonderful!"

- She does not hesitate to make herself comfortable, resting easily in your hold, her warmth seeping into your skin like sunlight. "You are so strong!" she praises, her voice dripping with admiration, her eyes glowing with pure, genuine awe. "Why did you not tell me before? We could have done this so many times!" There is no embarrassment, no hesitation—only the full, boundless embrace of a woman who loves fiercely, who takes nothing for granted, who cherishes this moment for all it is.

- And later, when you place her back down, she does not simply walk away. No, she hovers, her hands still cradling your face, her lips pressing a kiss—soft, lingering, grateful—against your cheek. "I must carry you next," she declares, her voice rich with excitement. "It is only fair!" And then, before you can protest, she sweeps you into her arms, laughing as she soars into the sky, twirling you through the air in a radiant, dizzying dance of love.

Kara Zor-El (Supergirl)

- Kara Zor-El is used to being the strongest person in the room. She has spent her life holding back, careful with every touch, every movement, every breath, always hyper-aware of her own power. But you—lifting her so effortlessly, holding her as if her strength does not matter—it knocks the breath from her lungs in a way no villain, no kryptonite, ever has.

- "Wha—wait, what?" Her voice is higher than usual, startled, her hands gripping your shoulders instinctively as her legs dangle in the air. Her wide, blue eyes blink rapidly, scanning your face for some sort of answer. "You—you picked me up?" She sounds offended for a split second before the reality of it truly hits her, before the corners of her lips twitch and something suspiciously close to a giggle bubbles in her throat. "You picked me up."

- And then she’s laughing—full-bodied, bright, joyful—because it’s so ridiculous, so absurd, and so absolutely wonderful. "Oh my god," she wheezes, her head dropping against your shoulder as she shakes with laughter. "I love this." She leans back, resting easily in your arms, grinning up at you with an expression so full of delight it’s almost blinding. "How are you this strong? Have you been holding out on me? Are you secretly Kryptonian? Oh my god, are we long-lost cousins? Should I call Clark?"

- When you finally put her down, she immediately tests you again—jumping at you with zero warning, wrapping her arms around your neck, trusting you to catch her. And when you do? She beams. "Again," she demands, eyes bright with exhilaration. "Again!" And suddenly, she’s obsessed. She will never let this go. You have doomed yourself to a lifetime of Supergirl dramatically flinging herself into your arms at the most inconvenient moments.

Slade Wilson (Deathstroke)

- Slade Wilson does not like surprises. He is a man who calculates every outcome, who moves with precision, who keeps his world meticulously controlled. He does not get caught off guard. But this—the sudden shift in gravity, the impossible strength behind your touch, the way his feet leave the ground—this is a surprise so profound that, for one fleeting second, the legendary Deathstroke is stunned.

- His single eye narrows sharply, his body tensing instinctively, a thousand battle instincts screaming at him to react. But there is no attack, no enemy—only you, holding him like he is something fragile, something weightless, something you can control without effort. And that—that—is what truly catches him off guard. "Well," he rumbles, his voice dangerously low, "this is new."

- He does not panic. He does not flail or struggle. No, Slade Wilson merely analyzes, his sharp mind whirring as he studies your face, his expression unreadable. And then, slowly—so slowly it’s almost imperceptible—the corners of his lips twitch into something that is almost amusement. "You’ve been keeping secrets," he murmurs, the faintest ghost of a smirk curving his lips. "That’s dangerous."

- When you finally set him down, he does not step away. No, he lingers, his presence a solid, immovable force as he tilts his head, watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. And then, just as you think the moment has passed, he reaches out—gripping your wrist with a strength that rivals your own. "My turn," he states simply, before sweeping you up effortlessly, his smirk widening as he watches your expression shift. "Now, let’s see how you handle surprises."

Kent Nelson (Doctor Fate)

- Kent Nelson is a man who has lived through centuries of battles, his mind tethered to the ancient wisdom of Nabu, weighed down by the knowledge of the cosmos. He is not easily shaken. He has fought demons, walked through dimensions where the laws of gravity bend and break, and seen the rise and fall of civilizations. And yet, for all his experience, for all his wisdom, nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the moment when you pick him up like he is no heavier than a feather caught in the wind.

- His body stills immediately, the flowing gold of his cloak pooling in your arms, his gauntleted hands frozen mid-motion as if his mind is struggling to catch up with his reality. He has faced eldritch horrors that defy comprehension, but this—this is something else entirely. "...Interesting." The word is measured, calm, but you can hear the faint edge of bewilderment in his voice. Beneath the helmet of Fate, his expression remains unreadable, but you can feel the way he is processing. Analyzing. Calculating how this is even possible.

- "There are few beings in existence who could accomplish this," he finally murmurs, and the weight of his words is almost laughable. But there is something else beneath them—something softer. Awe. Intrigue. A deep and abiding reverence for the unknown, for the mysteries of the universe that even he has yet to unravel. And right now? You are one of those mysteries. A puzzle he had not anticipated, but one he finds himself eager to solve. His fingers trail along your shoulder, light as a whisper, as if trying to feel the power beneath your skin.

- And then, in a rare moment of levity, the corners of his lips curve into something that is not quite a smile but something like it. "I wonder," he muses, "if Nabu knew about this." There is an unmistakable note of amusement in his voice, and you can tell—tell—that he is already planning the next time he can test your strength again. Doctor Fate may be bound to destiny, but Kent Nelson? Kent Nelson has just discovered something infinitely more interesting than fate itself: you.

Rachel Roth (Raven)

- Raven is used to control, to restraint. She has spent her life mastering herself, holding back, ensuring that nothing—not a single tremor of emotion—escapes without her permission. But control means nothing when you sweep her off her feet without warning. One moment, she is standing in the comfort of your presence, and the next, the world tilts—her balance stolen, gravity defied—and she finds herself cradled in your arms.

- "What—" The word is cut off, her breath catching in her throat, violet eyes wide and blinking as if she has glitched. It is not fear—Raven does not fear you—but it is shock, raw and unfiltered, slipping past the walls she has so carefully constructed. No one lifts her. No one dares. She is Raven, daughter of Trigon, wielder of darkness, but you—you lift her as though she is made of something far lighter, far softer. "...How?" The question is quiet, but laced with something dangerously close to wonder.

- And then, after a long, weighted pause, her lips part again. "Put me down." The words are flat, carefully neutral, but the telltale blush dusting her pale cheeks betrays her. You hold her a moment longer—just long enough to see the way her fingers twitch as if fighting the urge to grab onto you—and then, finally, you comply. The moment her feet touch the ground, she crosses her arms, tilting her chin slightly as if regaining her composure. But the faintest flicker of amusement sparks in her eyes. "You could have warned me."

- But later—later—when she thinks you aren’t looking, you catch her staring at you. Calculating. Considering. And the next time she finds herself in your arms? There is no sharp inhale, no startled demand to be put down. There is only the way her hands rest lightly on your shoulders, the way she allows herself to lean into your warmth. And if, just once, you hear the quietest whisper of "Again." as she buries her face in your neck, well... you say nothing.

Zatanna Zatara

- Zatanna is a performer. She has dazzled crowds, charmed audiences, and bent the very fabric of reality to her will with a flourish of her hands. She is a woman who makes the impossible look effortless. But what she does not expect—what she cannot predict—is you pulling a trick of your own. One moment, she is speaking, hands gesturing mid-sentence, and the next, she is in the air, her words dissolving into a startled gasp as she finds herself in your arms.

- "Well, hello there!" she exclaims, blinking in surprise before laughter spills from her lips, bright and genuine. "Was that part of the show? Because if so, I think I missed my cue." Her dark lashes flutter as she tilts her head, studying you with a slow, appreciative smirk. "And here I thought I was the one full of surprises." The twinkle in her eyes is unmistakable, a magician recognizing another masterful trick.

- "You have to tell me how you did that," she continues, wrapping her arms around your neck in a movement so seamless, so graceful, that it’s as if she was always meant to be there. "Strength spell? Secret training? Or—" she leans in, voice dropping to a playful whisper, "are you actually just a natural-born showstopper?" There is no flustered stammering, no embarrassment—only delight, only curiosity, only the unmistakable thrill of discovering something new.

- When you finally place her back down, she takes a step back, then claps her hands together. "Again." The demand is immediate, playful. "I need to know if it was a fluke! We must test this thoroughly." And just like that, you have created a monster. Zatanna will not let this go. From this day forward, any time she catches you off guard, she will jump at you just to see if you’ll catch her. And when you inevitably do? She’ll flash you that signature grin and purr, "Abracadabra, darling."

Dinah Lance (Black Canary)

- Dinah is a woman who stands her ground. She is not used to being swept off her feet—not figuratively, and certainly not literally. So when you do it, when you lift her with effortless ease, her first instinct is not to gasp, nor to flail. No, her first instinct is to fight. Her muscles tense instinctively, her fists clenching as if ready to counter, before her brain catches up and realizes—oh. Oh.

- "No way," she breathes, blinking as her lips part in pure, undiluted shock. "No. Freaking. Way." She actually leans back in your hold, looking at you with something between disbelief and sheer respect. "You’re kidding." Her voice wavers with something suspiciously close to laughter. "You did not just pick me up." But you did, and it is glorious.

- And then—because she is Dinah Lance—she grins. "Damn," she exhales, whistling low. "Okay, okay, I see you." And just like that, her shock melts into admiration, her blue eyes practically glowing with mischief. "Guess I better step up my training, huh? Can’t have my own girlfriend outmuscling me." She claps your shoulder when you set her down, shaking her head with a smirk. "That was impressive."

- But from that day forward? Dinah challenges you. Random push-up contests, lifting competitions, anything to test just how strong you really are. And if you ever lift her again? She just throws her head back and laughs, wrapping her arms around your neck and whispering, "Alright, babe—you win this round."

Wally West (The Flash)

- Wally West is used to moving faster than the eye can see, faster than thought, faster than the speed of sound. He is kinetic energy made flesh, a man who cannot be caught, cannot be contained. He is motion incarnate. So when you lift him off his feet—effortlessly—the sheer absurdity of it freezes him in place. His body, which has always been a blur of momentum, stops. And for the first time in his life, Wally West is utterly, completely still.

- "Whoa—whoa, whoa, whoa!" His voice cracks mid-exclamation, his arms flailing comically before his brain catches up. "What just happened? Did I trip? Did I pass out? Did I break the time stream again?" His hands immediately pat down his own chest, as if confirming that he is still in his body, that this is, in fact, reality. But the reality is this: you are holding him, carrying him without effort, and that? That should be impossible.

- His blue eyes widen, blinking rapidly as he stares at you in stunned disbelief. "You picked me up?" The words are barely above a whisper, his voice laced with an almost childlike awe. "You—just—picked me up?" And then, all at once, his expression shifts. His lips curl into a slow, mischievous grin, and a spark of amusement ignites in his gaze. "Oh, I see how it is," he drawls, looping his arms around your neck as if settling in. "You like sweeping me off my feet, huh?"

- From that moment forward, he turns it into a game. He will actively try to surprise you, using his speed to dodge your attempts—only to deliberately slow down at the last second so you can catch him anyway. And when you do? He laughs, bright and carefree, resting his forehead against yours with a smirk. "You got me again," he murmurs, voice warm with adoration. "Guess I’m falling for you all over again."

Victor Stone (Cyborg)

- Victor Stone is not easy to move, let alone lift. He is composed of reinforced titanium alloys, advanced cybernetics, a living fusion of man and machine. He knows exactly how much he weighs. He knows the sheer impossibility of what you are attempting. So when you do—when you lift him without struggle, without hesitation—his internal scanners glitch.

- "No way," he mutters, his voice layered with static interference as if his systems are struggling to process. His red cybernetic eye flickers slightly, running rapid recalibrations, recalculating physics itself. "Hold up—nah, this ain’t right." His brow furrows, fingers flexing as he subtly shifts his weight in your arms, testing your grip. But you do not falter. You hold him—steady, sure, unyielding. And for the first time in years, Victor Stone feels weightless.

- "I don’t know whether to be impressed or offended," he finally says, his tone a perfect balance of deadpan and deep amusement. "Like, damn, babe—this whole time, I thought I was the strong one." But beneath the teasing, there is something softer. Curiosity. Admiration. And something he does not voice, but you know he feels—trust. He has spent years reinforcing himself, ensuring that no one could ever carry him again, that he would never be helpless. And yet, in your arms, he does not feel lesser. He feels safe.

- When you finally set him down, he exhales a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. "Alright, alright—you got me," he admits, rolling his shoulders. "But next time? You gotta let me return the favor." And sure enough, he does. He waits for the perfect moment—when you least expect it—before scooping you up effortlessly, his deep laughter echoing as he grins down at you. "Yeah, see? Feels kinda nice, don’t it?"

Garfield Logan (Beast Boy)

- The moment you lift Garfield Logan, his brain short-circuits. His limbs flail wildly, his mouth opens in a silent gasp, and his entire body goes stiff as if he has just been yeeted into an alternate dimension. His emerald green eyes go comically wide, and his next breath comes out in a strangled, "WH—?!"

- "Did you just—?" His voice cracks mid-sentence. "Did you just pick me up?!" His hands instinctively grasp at your shoulders, but his fingers don’t clutch—they cling, as if his entire existence depends on holding on for dear life. "Dude. Babe. Love of my life. My entire world. Are you—are you even real? Because this? This should be illegal."

- And then, the realization fully hits him. The shock melts into something else. Something dangerous. His lips twitch, his expression morphing into pure gremlin energy. "Ohhh, this changes everything," he cackles, his voice practically vibrating with mischief. "You know what this means, right?" He leans in, his green skin practically glowing with delight. "You are now legally responsible for carrying me everywhere."

- And true to his word, he commits. The moment you set him down, he refuses to accept it. He will dramatically throw himself into your arms at every opportunity. Walking? Nope. Lifting weights? Absolutely not. Why would he ever do that when he has you? "Babe, please," he whines, arms outstretched, giving you the biggest, saddest puppy eyes imaginable. "I was made for this life. I belong in your arms. Carry me. Carry me like one of your French girls."

Lobo

- Lobo is not used to being moved—by anyone. He is a Czarnian, a being of unmatched strength and durability, a walking tank with enough raw power to go toe-to-toe with Superman. He has never been overpowered, never been handled. So when you do it—when you lift him with ease—his entire soul leaves his body.

- "What the frag?!" The expletive leaves him in a near roar, his crimson eyes blazing with shock. His first instinct is to fight, muscles tensing, but then he realizes—you’re not even struggling. You are holding him like he weighs nothing. The Main Man. The Last Czarnian. In your arms. And it is so baffling, so completely ridiculous, that he just... stares.

- And then—then—he starts laughing. Howling. "Oh, this is priceless," he chokes out between laughs, his voice booming. "You just—pfft—you just picked up Lobo like he’s a damn kitten?!" His laughter is raucous, unrestrained, but there is no resentment. No wounded pride. If anything, he looks at you with a newfound respect. "Alright, babe, I see how it is. You got guts."

- But Lobo is not one to be one-upped. "Next time, though?" He leans in close, his grin sharp and challenging. "I ain’t goin’ down without a fight. You wanna sweep me off my feet? You better earn it." And true to his word, he tests you after that—deliberately throwing his weight at you, seeing if you can keep up. And when you do? When you always catch him, every single time? He lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle, wraps a massive arm around your waist, and murmurs, "Damn. I really hit the jackpot, didn’t I?”

[invincibledc]

“Y/N doesnt love me no more!” Robin says with a sob. In his room closest. Shoving vanilla ice cream down his throat as he sniffles. Raven looks at you to which you only groaned annoyed. You both were trying to cheer him up, but Raven called you in as Robin had said you were the problem instead.

“ROBIN, ALL I SAID WAS I DIDNT WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND??”

“YOU DONT LOVE ME ANYMOREE!!” He said from behind the closest door.

It was gonna take a while to get him out.

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Does anyone still like DC Titans? The tv show from HBO? If so should I start writing for them? I have them on my list but,, I’m still debating it.

[zyhkoo]

♡ I wish you love!

raven x gn!reader, fluff, crack, request, not proof read

raven has trouble asking you out

You were a classmate at the college Raven attended. Though she never spoke up or approached you, she secretly held a deep infatuation for you.

From afar, she would catch glances of you, admiring your features, your laugh, your very presence on campus. The thought of approaching you and initiating a conversation made her heart flutter with nerves.

Sitting with her good friends Dick Grayson and Kory, Raven was in a dilemma. She wanted advice on how to approach the object of her secret admiration.

Raven let out a sigh, her hand on her head as she spoke. "I was going to ask them to be my friend today," she said.

Dick and Kory exchanged a glance before turning their attention back to Raven. "Well, how did it go?" Dick inquired.

In a flashback, Raven discreetly followed you to a secluded area on campus. You heard your name being called and instinctively spun around, your guard up.

"Ah, hi," you said. "Do we know each other?"

As soon as Raven heard your voice and saw your face, she froze. For a moment, she was lost in your features as words eluded her. Collecting herself, she began to speak.

"Uh.. I want.."

Your confusion was evident; you reached into your bag and pulled out your wallet, digging through its contents. Pulling out twenty bucks, you held it up to Raven. "This is all I have," you stated, her mind jumping to the conclusion that she was attempting to rob you.

Once you had left, she stood there speechless as she realized how her actions must have appeared to you. She hadn't meant to scare you or make you think she was trying to take your money.

In the present, Raven's face remained flushed with embarrassment as she confessed, "They thought I was trying to rob them.." She let out a weary sigh.

Dick and Kory tried to contain their laughter at Raven's revelation.

"Oh come on, Rae," Dick began, a grin playing on his lips. "How could they have thought that?"

Kory chuckled, adding, "I mean, you're not exactly the intimidating type. You're too cute for that!"

Raven rolled her eyes, "I don't know, alright? I just wanted to talk to them, and the next thing I know, they're giving me money," she replied, her tone laced with frustration.

Raven shifted in her seat and implored, "Well, how should I approach them in the future? Give me some pointers, please."

Dick chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "Well, for starters, maybe don't follow them to a secluded area and expect them not to get scared?"

Kory shot him a glare before turning back to Raven. "He's right, you know. You have to be more subtle, Rae. And maybe don't look like you're about to murder them every time you speak."

Having absorbed Dick and Kory's advice, Raven knew it was time for her to approach you once more, this time in a far more approachable manner.

Days passed, and Raven found the courage to approach you again. Taking a deep breath, she approached you as you were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by various books.

She mustered up a soft smile before speaking, her voice quivering slightly. "Hey, can we um.. talk?”

You looked up from your reading; recognition dawned on your face. "Oh, it's you," you greeted, acknowledging her presence.

A faint blush dusted her cheeks as her heart thumped in her chest. Her fingers fidgeted with the straps of her backpack, and she averted her gaze, struggling to make direct eye contact.

"Yeah, it's me," she responded softly, her fingers nervously toying with the edge of her shirt. "But you can call me Rachel."

To your surprise, Rachel rummaged through her bag and pulled out the twenty dollars you had inadvertently given her. With an apologetic look, she held the money out to you.

Your eyes widened as Rachel produced the twenty dollars you had handed her during your last encounter. Your surprise mingled with embarrassment as you remembered mistaking her intentions.

You hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take the money from her hand, “Thanks, I thought you were mugging me sorry.” you smiled.

Raven chuckled softly, her nerves slightly eased by your response. "Yeah, I figured. Let's just say it wasn't my best approach," she admitted, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment before Raven mustered up the courage to speak again. "Can I sit with you?"

"Sure, have a seat," you replied, gesturing to the empty chair beside you with a welcoming pat.

The two of you were soon engaged in a lively conversation, your initial misunderstanding replaced by a friendly exchange of words.

As you and Raven continued talking, the initial tension between you faded away. The conversation flowed more naturally, and you found that Rachel was actually quite charming.

She listened intently as you spoke, her eyes occasionally lingering on your features, taking in your expressions. The more she observed, the more her fascination with you grew.

The days turned into months, and your interactions with Raven continued to become more frequent. She found herself making excuses to be around you, whether it was in classes, at the library, or just passing by in the hallway.

One evening, you found yourself at a party, where things ended up getting a bit too wild. In your inebriated state, you made the decision to call Rachel, asking for her help getting back to your apartment.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat as your name flashed on her caller ID. Despite the late hour and the unexpected nature of the call, she quickly agreed to come and fetch you.

She soon arrived at the party venue, noticing and finding you, struggling to balance on your feet, clearly inebriated. Concern etched on her face, she swiftly came to your side and wrapped an arm around your waist, providing the necessary support.

"Rachie!" you exclaimed, a tipsy giggle escaping your lips with a hint of affection in your voice.

Rachel's heart fluttered at the sound of you calling her name. She couldn't help but smile at your drunken state, her cheeks slightly flushed as she supported your weight.

"Hey," she replied, her voice soft. "You've had a bit too much fun, didn’t you?"

You slurred your words a bit, but managed a smile. "'Just a bit," you confirmed, swaying slightly as you spoke.

"I would say more than a bit,” she chided gently, making sure to keep you steady as she began walking towards your apartment.

She struggled a little with bringing you back, knowing deep down that she could easily use her teleportation powers. But she refrained from doing so, unwilling to reveal her secret abilities.

After a slightly laborious journey, you finally reached your apartment, with Rachel guiding you through the building with her arm wrapped around your waist to provide support. Even in your intoxicated state, climbing the stairs proved to be a bit challenging.

Once inside, Rachel helped you settle onto the cozy couch in the living room. She took a seat beside you, her gaze a mix of concern and amusement as she observed your drunken state.

She left you momentarily on the couch and went to rummage through your cabinets, eventually finding a glass. She filled it with cold water before returning to your side and holding the glass out to you.

"Here, drink this," she directed, her voice filled with care. She perched herself on the couch beside you, her eyes watching intently. "It'll make the hangover less unbearable tomorrow morning."

She settled beside you, taking in your slightly disheveled state. Your cheeks were tinged with a flush of color, and your eyes had a hazy, inebriated look to them.

You slurred your words a bit, but managed to ask, "Why ya starin'?"

She realized she had been caught staring at you. "Sorry, I was just.. making sure you're alright," she confessed softly.

Without any warning, you suddenly cupped her face, your hand caressing her cheek. "Rachie,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred. "You’re really pretty, you know?"

"Idiot.. you're just drunk," she muttered, her voice wavering slightly. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of self-consciousness under your touch, although secretly, she savored the compliment.

"No, it's true," you insisted, your pout emphasized, a stubborn look on your face.

Rachel sighed, her resistance crumbling under your insistent words. "Alright, alright," she reluctantly agreed, her voice slightly softer now. "If you say so."

She knew arguing further would be futile, so she decided to let the compliment slide.

Your eyes fixated on her lips, a curious look in your gaze. "Can I kiss you?" you blurted out. "Just wanna taste you.”

As you continued to fixate on her lips, Rachel's heart skipped a beat, her body freezing in response. She struggled to register your unexpected audacity and the question that followed.

"What are you saying?" she said "That’s a bad idea. You’re drunk," she continued.

Rachel's resistance began to falter as you wrapped your arms around her neck and looked at her with such a pleading expression.

There was a brief moment of hesitation on Rachel's part, as her gaze ping-ponged between your eyes and your lips. But then, with a mixture of caution and anticipation, she slowly closed the distance between you.

In that moment you kissed back, your movements clumsy but filled with eagerness. A soft, happy hum escaped your lips as the kiss continued. Rachel's eyes fluttered shut, savoring the feel of your mouth against hers.

What was she so worried about?

[mikyapixie]

❤️🧡💚💙💜❤️🧡💚💙💜

❤️🧡💚💙💜❤️🧡💚💙💜

18 years ago today Teen Titans: Trouble in Tokyo premiered on Cartoon Network!!! THIS CHASE SCENE WAS THE BEST!!! I really loved the poster they made for the movie!!!

❤️🧡💚💙💜❤️🧡💚💙💜

❤️🧡💚💙💜❤️🧡💚💙💜

[fandomnerd9602]

Can you please make incorrect quotes for Titans and Raven confronting Y/N who is literally chilling out inside of Raven's mindscape with Dark Raven?

The Titans charge through Raven's mindscape to find Y/N...

They pause when they find Y/N relaxing on a couch with Dark Raven...

Y/N: hey guys

Starfire: you are not in the trouble?

Y/N: oh i am in trouble

Robin:

Y/N: love trouble

Dark Raven snuggles with Y/N...

Beast Boy: this is weird, dude!

Raven: I'm happy, Y/N's happy. deal with it

[robinvomit]

†  home : rachel.

⋆˙⟡ “to be loved is to have a home.”

⋆˙⟡ request: just a little thing. ↦ kalico note: just something from my notes - i felt compelled to post.

raven sleeps like nothing can touch her, like the world outside simply doesn't exist. that same peaceful expression still soft on her features, lips parted to breathe easier. her arm is still draped over the bed where her lover had been moments ago, fingers curled loosely, relaxed but aware of the empty warmth.

you'd only moved a minute ago, careful not to wake her or disturb the safe silence that came after every session of heavy breathing, gentle touches and whispered pleas.

there's still a shine to her thighs, only caught when you step from the bathroom, the sheet twisted and crooked. she has a warmth in her chest that has nothing to do with the bed - the kind that radiates under her skin, twists around her ribs. you can see it in the way she's melted into the bed.

she doesn’t know what to call it, other than happiness.

you tiptoe across the room, still bare and with your own shine that's made clear by the few streaks of afternoon light that slip through the parts in the curtains. there’s no rush. no reason.

you find what you're looking for over the seat of the chair in the corner, trying not to chuckle as you thought back to how it even got that far.

raven’s shirt.

it's dark, loose, and worn in just the right way to make it soft. her scent lingers in the collar, faint notes of smoke and salt and something that smells like dark magic. you pick it up with both hands and press the fabric close, content to be wrapped in the familiarity.

your eyes flutter closed as you take the moment to relish before a soft, giddy little giggle escapes into the piece.

you pull it over your head, too long in the sleeves, the hem grazing the tops of your thighs, doing a happy little wiggle as it falls into place. tight in the right spots, loose in others. something earned. then you pulls the collar up once more, nosing at the material and smiling at the spark of warmth, the sense of belonging. "a home.." you whisper.

the realization sinks in slow.

you have a home. a warmth. a person — you have her.

"i really have her.." you say aloud, laughing into the cotton, trying to hold back tears that are formed by genuine happiness.

behind you, the bed shifts and a sigh follows, deep and loved.

"that's my shirt.." it's lazy, drawn out with sleep.

you turn on your heel, head tilting and taking the moment to admire her. she'd lost every bit of shyness the first night you touched her and now, here she was, stretching against the bed.

your eyes trace the way her heels press into the bed, her calves tense and up over the marks that litter her thighs, hips and abdomen. it's a slow crawl along the defined ridges of her ribs, the curve of her breasts and over features that are soft with sleep, eyes lidded — all exposed, safe, adored.

"not anymore," you coo, making your way over to press one knee to the edge of the bed, reaching to brush her hair back.

raven just hums, fingers curling to drag the sheet closer as she sank further.

"i suppose not.." and she means it, despite the annoyed lilt.

[bloodyboi]

Hi! You like teen titans 2003 fanfics or just the cartoon itself? Well I, made a fanfic where reader is part of the team and is childhood best friends with a certain bird on Wattpad. I post every Sunday in GMT-5 time zone. Please go enjoy it or just check it out for yourself! Thanks for staying by and reading this my fellow traveler.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Rachel Roth

Rachel Roth x reader

warnings:

a/n: ahhhh this is kind if shirt but i hope you enjoy!!!

prompt: anonymous: “if there’s still slots, could you do like titans Rachel Roth gf headcanon just her being sweet and stuff idk I just have been looking for more hcs on her 🥲”

you and rachel loved when you guys could just be you

that led to a lot of domestic moments at titans tower

like making breakfast for each other (and always overdoing it—the titans looked forward to your leftovers)

“you guys know that two eggs each is a normal amount, right?” -dick

“well, we figured that out by the third day of cooking but you guys just seemed so excited to wake up to food that we kept doing it” -you

“yeah, why do you think we make a bunch of fake-meat sausages every morning?” -rachel

so you guys became a fast favorite couple of the titans, naturally

you worked on schoolwork together pretty often, dick never let up on it

studying together became a common practice (until it turned into cuddling and watching tv)

“you think dexter is a good guy or a bad guy?” -rachel

“i dare you to ask dick that question” -you

“that was a test, you failed!” -rachel

“well, speaking of tests we’re about to fail…” -you

coffee dates to get out of the tower <3

rachel always got lattes with lavender and vanilla (you begged her to stop drinking black coffee)

you guys shared earbuds as you walked around san francisco

“this song reminds me of you” -rachel

it’s probably a paramore song

she likes to do your makeup when she gets bored

and someone she would go VERY far with it

“oh—y/n…nice eyeshadow..?” -kori

“thanks!” -you with green sparkly raccoon-esque eyeshadow and massive winged eyeliner “rachel did it!”

“you know, this is why i love young love” -kori

gar would lowkey crash your movie nights

“what are we watching? ooh, a horror movie? i actually brought this romcom if you guys are interested!” -gar

“oh! sure…yeah, you can just pop that in. i wasn’t in a, um, scary movie mood anyways…” -you, lying to humor him

next thing you know, connor is in there with four bowls of popcorn and sodas

at least they were good guests

“it’s okay, i like their company” -rachel

“yeah, me too. plus, conner puts the good seasoning on my popcorn” -you

dick would check on you guys frequently

“do you want to watch with us?” -you

“no, that’s okay. i have work to do” -dick

(the work was battling crippling anxiety)

but when you guys were out as titans, you loved every bit of it

you especially loved how worried she’d get over you

“y/n! are you okay?!” -raven

“yes?” -you, who just hopped over a 6 foot fence “did i miss something?”

dick and kori loved to listen to your young bickering

it seemed so simple to them (exluding the whole half-demon subject)

speaking of, whenever she opened up you were there for it

she had a lot of baggage and and never quite unpacked it fully if you catch my drift

“i’m really proud of you for telling me all of this” -you

you’d give her kisses all over her face to distract her from the heaviness of life sometimes

and she appreciated you deeply

you were gifted witchy things often as she learned more magic

you have a crystal for everything these days

you brush rachel’s hair when she’s feeling anxious

oh yeah she paints your nails on occasion too

you guys talk about the idea of moving out and getting a pet

and it terrified dick—the idea of you guys leaving him one day

but he was glad it was you two together, you’d always take care of each other

taglist: @captainshazamerica // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @summersimmerus // @glxwingrxse // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @volturi-stuff //

[urdreamydoodles]

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.

[invincibledc]

Damian cups the cheeks of reader who is the little brother of Raven. “Corvus, I demand you to stop being adorable.” He says looking into the purplish eyes of the boy in front of him. “Uhhhh..I can try?” Reader say as he closes his eyes, puffing his cheeks trying to make an ugly face. Only for it to fail as Damian feels his cheeks heating up. “Damnit!” Damian exclaims, hugging the poor small boy who just looks confused at his sister who just smirks.

[marvelanddcrper]

The Heartless

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑹𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒍 𝑹𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒑 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒊𝒕. 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒘 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒓.

Rachel: Swear to god Y/n touch my gem again and I'l- You stood there watching Rachel go off on you for touching her gem. Licking a bottle of maple syrup Rachel stops and notices you licking it and snatches out your hand. Rachel: why are you touching my stuff! You rolled your eyes as she continued yelling at you

Y/n: Why did you try to probe my mind?

Rachel pauses you snatch the bottle back and completely drink it and put it back in her hand.

Y/n: This get's more fun every time let's schedule this tomorrow yeah daddies girl? Can't wait to see it.

She looks at you with complete rage you pat her head and smile at her while walking out.

Gar: Seriously what is the deal with you guys?

Gar picks up Y/n controller playing for him

Rachel: I don't know, but I'm going to find out.

[zyhkoo]

🎬 zyhkoo’s movie theater ☆

october event

{ ticket status: open }

🍿 THEATRE RULES

i’ve been writing dc for a while and wow, i’m getting a lot of attention haha. anyways, heres my first event! i might extend this to november considering i can’t write every single day. october is coming, and its my birth month! also a very creative day for writers, so i wanted to do something. thank you for everyone who liked and reblogged my works!

🎞️ HOW IT WORKS

i will be listing themes, prompts, faves, settings. all you need to do is send me an ask and your ideas!

i do not have a limit on how many fics im writing, but i will write as much as i can!

please expect delayed responses, i am a busy person and i only do this for fun.

i will be choosing what’s in my askbox, so there may be a chance i won’t be able to do yours, but no worries! send as much as asks as you want.

i will only do one prompt, if i like yours a lot i might do two. i will cross out the prompts i have already done

word limit will be 1k-8k depending on my mood.

i accept anon asks of course, but i prefer answering from non-anons.

i think..i’ll do spicy fic? it really depends, but i’ll add it as an option anyway. i’ll be likely to not choose it.

i accept platonic requests! i love platonic dynamics.

last but not the least.. i will be using songs i like as prompts! hope you enjoy.

🍿 CURRENTLY SHOWING

ticket format: character, prompts, setting, your ideas.

🎥 ACTORS

characters available: bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, cassandra cain, stephanie brown, barbara gordon, damian wayne, kate kane, koriand’r, raven, wally west, roy harper, zatanna zatara, selina kyle, donna troy, conner kent.

📼 PLOTS

type of fic: fluff, angst, headcanons, nsfw, platonic

📀 MOVIES

list of prompts

falling behind ー laufey

promise ー laufey

lovesick ー laufey

second best ー laufey

fragile ー laufey

daylight ー taylor swift

casual ー chappell roan

still into you ー paramore

the night we met ー lord huron

mr. loverman ー ricky montgomery

champagne problems ー taylor swift

i can do it with a broken heart ー taylor swift

buy the stars ー marina

love. ー wave to earth

enchanted ー taylor swift

hot to go! ー chappell roan

my love mine all mine ー mitski

me and my husband ー mitski

i won’t say im in love (im in love) ー hercules

astronomy ー conan gray

heather ー conan gray

all too well ー taylor swift

cardigan ー taylor swift

boats and birds ー gregory and the hawk

roommates ー malcom todd

die with a smile ー lady gaga & bruno mars

good luck, babe! ー chappell roan

stella brown ー jelani aryeh

a night to remember ー beabadobee & laufey

send my heart with a kiss ー stephan sanchez

glue song ー beabadoobee

sparks ー coldplay

yellow ー coldplay

nothing ー bruno major

dandelions ー ruth b.

paper rings ー taylor swift

too sweet ー hozier

like real people ー hozier

angel baby ー troye sivan

strawberries and cigarettes ー troye sivan

guilty as sin? ー taylor swift ft. jason todd

love like you ー rebecca sugar

pretty please ー dutch melrose & benny mayne

🎥 TICKET EXAMPLE

‘ for your event can i have bruce with ー me and my husband and fluff and (your idea here) ‘

thats all, please enjoy!

[scp230kinnie]

Hcs for the titans mcs pls (Dick, Gar, Rachel, & Kori)

Lowkey gonna marry whoever sent this 😜

TITANS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

I assume you meant relationship, so here’s that

Characters: Dick Grayson, Rachel Roth, Gar Logan, Jason Todd, and Koriand’r

Genre: fluff 😜 relationship hcs

Warnings: SPOILERS ⚠️ mentions of death & injury. Slightly suggestive. None of the characters mentioned are mine, all Headcanons are made up by me, not canon whatsoever. Everything said/mentioned is fictional.

On with the fic

Dick Grayson

He a baddie

He tries actually so hard to keep you out of danger

I feel like he would try to hide the whole titans thing from you if you didn’t know about it, but realistically finding out would be inevitable

He can always tell when you’re lying. It’s like a sixth sense to him

As a matter of fact, he can tell when anyone lies to him

He probably likes it when you help patch him up after a fight (not that he would admit it)

If you’re expecting a man who’s open about anything (his past, etc) you have another thing coming

It would take a lot for him to actually open up

Even if he does open up, he doesn’t like telling you much about his time with Bruce.

Dont bring it up either lol

Man is so touch deprived omggg

It’s not exactly that he never got it, it’s more that he never wanted it

He would like flinch if you ever touched him, but he would get used to it

He has a fat ass I wanna slap it

If you do that, he’s probably gonna slap yours back

No PDA. Holding hands at the MOST. Unless you’re upset or hurt, then he’ll give you a quick hug or something

He likes to stay serious generally, but sometimes he’ll be silly and it’s so cute ong

He wants you to stay away from the crime fighting scene.

He even gets scared for your health in case one of his enemies decides to go for you

He would try to teach you some self defence

If you are a crime fighter, he helps you train, and stays close to you on missions if he can

His favourite part of your body is your face. He loves looking into your eyes or kissing your lips or cheeks

Next 😜

Rachel Roth

She’s probably so sweet and understanding

You are always her main priority

All she ever wants is to keep you safe

Sometimes, she gets very distant because she can’t control her abilities and she doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you

If you didn’t already know the titans, she would absolutely introduce you to them as soon as she can

She can’t help but smile when she looks at you

She gives you her clothes if you want <3

She’d only open up after a while, it wouldn’t take too long, but she would still be a little distant

She loves being close to you and like hugging you or holding hands

Very up for PDA

No making out or anything, but will hug you and hold your hand in public

She just thinks you’re the most interesting person ever

She remembers every word you tell her

She would probably get matching piercings with you omgggg

She loves painting your nails to match hers

Like Dick, she can also tell when you’re lying. (But that’s just a side effect from her abilities)

She always posts pictures or videos of you on her social media if she has any

Will always offer you an earbud if she’s listening to music, will be very happy if you do the same

She loves learning about what music you listen to

Loves getting matching anything (hoodies, rings, even online profile pictures)

Her favourite part of you is your eyes or your hands

Garfield Logan

When he sees you’re upset, he will say the worst jokes he can think of to make you laugh

Even when you’re not upset he does that anyway

He just loves hearing your laugh or seeing your smile

He thinks it’s the cutest thing ever

Absolutely LOVES playing video games with you

It’s literally his favourite thing in the world

If he notices you’re cold, he might give you his jacket for a bit

Will defo turn into your favourite animal for you

Especially if it’s a dog or a cat so he can cuddle with you

Opens up so fast tbh

It’s good tho that means he trusts you

Little spoon fosho 😜😜😜

He loves holding or touching you in some way

Loves PDA sm

Just loves proving you’re his

The titans probably knew about you the first day he saw you💀

He’d get you guys matching white shoes and get sharpies to Color them together <3

Would draw a wiener somewhere on em tho

PAINT HIS NAILS

He would make you do some stupid ahh tiktok dances with him

Would give you some stupid nicknames

His favourite thing about you is 100% your hair. He would absolutely adore touching it/playing with it, no matter the length

Jason Todd

He a little cute patootie

IDC WHAT HES DONE

Everyone he talks to knows about you tbh

He’s just so proud of you

He makes so many sexual jokes it’s wild

Also always grabs your ass 😢

Gives you some cringe nickname

He doesn’t like opening up, I can understand that

He prefers hearing you talk, rather than him

Would protect you with his mf life

Also would teach you to fight

He wants to know that you can protect yourself when he’s not there

Adores it when you clean his wounds or rub his shoulders after fights

He’s pretty secretive but would probably break down one day and tell you everything

Would definitely give you his hoodies/sweaters

Into PDA

He just likes to prove to everyone that you’re his tho

Loves to hold you

His face part of you is ur nose

Easy to kiss

Koriand’r

She’s gorgeous my wife

She seems more stoic, but she really cares about you, more than anything

She loves to talk shit with you tbh

Only abt people who deserve it ofc

She loves when you make her laugh, it makes her feel more comfortable with you

Matching jewelry 🔛🔝

Loves it when you play with her hair

She can’t really use words to express how she feels about you, prefers to use her actions instead

She doesn’t want you to think differently of her because she is a princess or whatever

She’s had plenty of past lovers, but she knows you’re her favourite

She’ll take a while to open up, but she will eventually

Doesn’t do PDA

Or very much physical affection as it is

Will still hug you tho <3

Like everyone else, she will do everything she can to protect you and make sure you don’t get hurt

Will k word anyone who looks at you the wrong way

She’s very protective

And kinda jealous

She loves every part of you lowkey

The end guys idk what else to write

[6rookie-writer0110]

Come down with me to see the stars

Rachel Roth x Reader (Gender-Neutral)

Request - Could you make a Rachel Roth x Neutral Reader?

Rachel and the others were fighting Trigon. You were facing Rachel and her friends then Trigon stood behind you and you felt a sharp pain in your stomach. You see your girlfriend yell something but you can't make out the words. You look down and you see a sword through your stomach, and then you start to cough up blood. Trigon starts to laugh and your body feels weak. You fall down to the ground and tears go down your cheek. You bleed out fast and everything turns dark and you stop breathing.

“Y/n!” Rachel screamed.

Trigon laughed again then she snapped. She uses all her powers to attack her father but he disappears. Then she runs towards your body and holds you close to her.

“Y/n, wake up please” Rachel cried.

“Rachel, Y/n is gone,” Dick said.

“No!” Rachel screamed.

She wouldn't let go of you and she cries even more.

——

Dick and the others are starting to plan a funeral. But Rachel won't accept that you are gone, she went to see your body.

“Rachel, it's hard to accept death but you have to let go,” Kory said.

“No,” Rachel said.

“You are not alone. You are not going through this alone” Gar said.

Rachel put her hand on your chest.

“I have to go and do this,” Rachel said.

“Do what?” Dick said.

“What are you talking about?” Jason asked.

She didn't say anything to them. She used her magic to take you somewhere else. They are confused about what just happened and they started to panic. Rachel took you somewhere far and it's a cave.

She uses her magic to put your body in the Lazarus Pit. The water starts to heal your body and Rachel waits and sees the water change. Suddenly you came out of the water and you started to panic, then Rachel jumped in the water. She puts her hands on your face to help you calm down. Your mind is racing and your heart is beating extremely fast. She struggled to get out of the water and you started to cough hard.

“Y/n, it's me, Rachel,” Rachel said.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled.

You moved away from her. You struggled to get up but fell down to your knees. Again, she put her hands on your face.

“It’s okay,” Rachel said.

She uses her magic to help you calm down and it's working. Your breathing is going back to normal and your memories are coming back.

“Rachel?” You said.

“It’s me, Y/n” Rachel smiled.

She hugged you tight and you don't say anything for now.

✯ ✫ ✫ ✯

Rachel didn't take you back to the tower. She wants to be alone with you, and you are staying with her in a small house. The house is in the woods close to a lake.

“You put me in the Lazarus Pit, why” You said.

“Y/n, I love you and I didn't want to lose you. I never felt like this and I don't care what anyone says about what I did and I would do it again” Rachel said.

“You never said that to me before,” You said.

“I mean it. I really love you” Rachel said.

“I love you too, Rachel,” You said.

You and Rachel have been dating for a while. And she never said those three words until now. The others always supported the relationship from the beginning.

Rachel moved closer and she kissed you on the lips. You start to kiss her back and you start to smile. She wrapped her around your shoulders and kept kissing you back.

“I never want to lose you again,” Rachel said.

You kiss her again and you hold her tight.

——-

You and Rachel are spending time alone. She hasn't told the others what she did, she won't care about their opinions.

“Stay” Rachel mumbled.

You and Rachel are lying in bed, she is lying on her side and she is holding you tight.

“We are going to stay in bed all day?” You asked.

“Maybe, Y/n,” Rachel said.

She snuggled on you.

“I like the new color hair on you,” You said.

She smiled and kissed your shoulder. She starts to explain how it happened. You and Rachel fell asleep for a little while and she doesn't let you go.

Later, in the afternoon you followed Rachel to the lake. But you and Rachel started to run on the dock then you two jumped in the water. She starts to smile at you and you swim close to her.

“The water is so cold” Rachel smiled.

She wraps her arms around you and you do the same to her. She smiled then she kissed you and you felt her tongue go inside your mouth.

You and Rachel are having in the water. You teach her how to swim and so far she is getting it right. You and Rachel got back on the dock and then jumped off. You two go a little deeper into the water, then Rachel wraps her arms around you tightly.

“I don't think we have to go deeper again,” Rachel said.

“I wasn't. But I'm starving” You said.

“Let's go back to the house and make something to eat” Rachel smiled.

You nod then she starts to kiss you. You hold her a little tight and you don't stop kissing her.

Back at the house, you and Rachel took a hot shower and put on pajamas. Now, you and Rachel are making dinner together. She is having a good time cooking dinner with you.