#dc headcannons

Wally West

"Baby" you said, seriously "I've got a very important question. It determines everything"

Wally froze mid-bounce, his grin flickering like a lightbulb about to short-circuit. He slowly lowered the bag of chips, eyes widening with sudden seriousness.

"Uh-oh," he whispered dramatically, voice dropping an octave.

"Okay," he said softly. "Ask me anything."

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" you asked, seriously.

Wally blinked.

Then his entire face exploded into a grin so wide it looked like it might split his cheeks. The tension snapped like a rubber band, and he practically vibrated on the spot (not from speed this time!) from pure joyful disbelief.

"Pffft—baby!" He threw his arms around you in a sudden tackle-hug, spinning you once before plopping back down on the couch with you in his lap. "A worm? Like… tiny? Squishy? With a little wiggly butt?"

He cupped your face with both hands, green eyes sparkling mischievously.

"First of all—yes," he declared without hesitation. "Absolutely. I’d build you a tiny castle out of LEGOs and feed you fruit slices every morning."

He kissed your forehead dramatically.

"And second, I’d still call our relationship 'the cutest wormance ever' and brag about it to Barry."

"Really?" you asked hopefully

Wally’s heart melted at the idea. He nodded fast, so enthusiastically his ginger hair flopped into his eyes. He didn’t even bother pushing it back.

"Cross my heart," he said, dragging a finger across his chest with cartoonish solemnity. "Hope to die! which I won't, because Speed Force aura and all that—but still! I mean it."

He pressed both hands over yours like he was making an oath on sacred ground.

"If you turned into a worm? Best day ever. We’d have matching outfits! Tiny little sweaters made from thread."

Then he gasped dramatically "I could carry you around in my pocket!"

Donna Troy

You were sitting on Donna's lap while she combed through your hair with her fingers. You turned around and looked up at her "Darling, would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Donna softened, her fingers still tangled in your soft hair. The question hung in the air. She thought it was a little silly and absurd, but if this is what you were insecure about, then she was willing to give you some peace of mind.

She studied your face, and then exhaled a small laugh that carried warmth.

Without missing a beat, she cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, murmuring

"Of course I would. You could be a worm crawling through dirt for all eternity… and I’d still love you."

A pause. Then with playful seriousness

"…Though if you did turn into a worm? We’re moving to somewhere warm. Worms need humidity."

"You're serious?" You pressed

Donna’s expression softened, softer than the moonrise over Themyscira.

She lifted your chin gently with two fingers, her blue eyes shimmering with absolute certainty.

"Sunshine," she said with her voice low and steady like a vow sworn on an altar. "I fell in love with you—not your shape, not your strength or speed or how you glow when you're happy. I fell in love with the way you sigh when it rains… how you hum off-key while cooking… that little frown between your eyebrows when Dick says something dumb."

A small smile touched her lips.

"If one day magic turned my sunbeam into a tiny wriggly creature? I’d build it a garden. Feed it organic dirt every morning. Talk to it all day."

Her thumb brushed your cheekbone.

"And yes, I'd still kiss its little head goodnight."

Okay. Yeah. You were content.

Kori Anders

"Star, I've got a serious question" you pouted.

Kory nuzzled her nose into the crook of your neck, warm and sleepy, but instantly alert at the tone. She tightened her hug protectively.

“Mm? What is it, my love?”

Her voice was soft green morning light, she was gentle but fully awake now. One hand slid up to brush a thumb over your cheekbone.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Kori took a second to process, then she burst into joyful giggles. The sound that bounced off the kitchen tiles like sunshine.

"Pfft—a worm?"

She spun you around and kissed your forehead, eyes crinkled with mirth.

"Why Of course I would! You’d be the cutest little worm in all of Tamaran. I’d build you a tiny castle and feed you crumbs of love."

A pause.

"…But only if you were my worm."

"I'd be your worm" you agreed happily

Kory beamed and lit up. She scooped you into a spinning hug, delighted by the commitment.

"Mine! My tiny earthling worm! So brave and squishy!"

She kissed both cheeks rapidly, mwah mwah mwah, then rested your foreheads together.

"I’d carry you in my pocket. Protect you from birds. Share my breakfast pancakes with you… "

Her voice dropped to a sweet whisper:

"You’d still be perfect."

"I'm always perfect"

"Stop that!" she huffed

religious!jason todd who prayed harder than he ever did before with a child's desperation in the warehouse where joker’s twisted games was claiming his life. when the crowbar came down, jason begged. when the bomb ticked, he begged. not for vengeance—but for rescue. for bruce, or god himself. screamed it inside his head, bargained with heaven—terrified not only of death but abandonment yet again.

when he realized he was left unanswered—something in him cracked, more fragile and foundational than bone. when the explosion came, his faith did not shatter that day. it simply…stopped. like a candle being snuffed out or a withering vine, and he died right alongside it.

religious!jason todd who resurrected and climbed out of his own grave with soil in his mouth, lungs burning, and a hole where his belief in goodness used to be. his heart, now filled with disappointment at being failed by his fathers.

religious!jason todd who trained over the years to become who he currently is. red hood. a different man now hardened and bitter. he tried to fill the void inside him with purpose. with changed beliefs. with blood.

whose crisis of faith became a crisis of identity.

he once believed that everyone deserved redemption. now he knows some people don't. that sometimes you have to be the sword instead of the shield, one person had to be willing to do the unthinkable. he kills so others won't die. he sins so others won't have to. protecting the innocent in ways batman never would. and every time he crosses another line with another death, he feels the ghost of that faithful boy still inside him staring in judgment.

religious!jason todd who met you on a night when he was fully prepared to die a second time and stay dead this time. battered and bleeding out in a grimy alleyway of gotham, vision swimming.

then you appeared, a mere civilian that knew nothing of the horrors he’d witnessed. not dramatic, not glowing—just steady, gentle, human. you touched him with careful hands and spoke to him like he wasn't a monster, fear swallowed for the sake of helping a stranger. like he wasn't some weapon walking around in a human shape. jason would later lie to himself, saying you were a coincidence. but in the moment he saw you, blurry and backlit by a streetlamp, he had a single thought; an angel came this time.

like something so pretty and soft—that he was afraid you might break if he so much as merely grazed you with his own calloused fingers that saw violence more than holding something precious.

religious!jason todd who has strained relationships and will always be reminded of the day he died—from dick, who tries too hard to fix things with optimism he can't stand. tim, the replacement who once carried the mantle he thinks should've stayed buried with him. damian, the son of his mentor in name and blood. someone so similar to him like magnets on the same pole. aligned with the same charge, intensity, and turmoil—so they repel even as they mirror one another. yet, damian was the living embodiment of everything jason had once wanted and never got from—bruce whom he admired and loathed with equal fire. the man whose silence and lack of action towards his killer hurt worse than the crowbar. the man who lives in the darkness, finds the helpless and brings them into the light, but couldn’t do it for him—because he didn’t know how.

he loved his family he really did, with grudging respect and recognition. but hated how complicated it was to navigate through them.

religious!jason todd who will always be emotionally stunted no matter what. he still clenches his jaw instead of confiding, still fights like he's trying to outrun hell, he still hasn’t thought of the lord, still keeps the batfamily at arm's length even when part of him wants to go home. but with you plaguing his mind after that night, all those edges soften, the armoured plated around his fractured heart shift just enough to let a little light in.

religious!jason todd who then wants to try to build something good with someone and keeps finding excuses to see you again. to make sure you’re staying out of trouble, always watching you in the shadows—protecting you. to have you check on more bruises that marred his body with that cute furrowed brow when you focused. to feel those soft hands on any inch of his skin again.

he tells himself it’s because you're useful or your apartment has good sightlines. which is half truthful because he finds himself slowly romancing you. 

religious!jason todd who has no clue how to court anyone—not in a real, vulnerable way. gruff, overthinking every word he’d utter to you. but he tries.

he buys you flowers and then panics when he’s lingering at your doorway, throwing them away in the trash bin just outside your apartment and goes back home to sulk. so he mails them to you instead of hand delivering it until he gathers the courage again. he rehearses compliments and then stutters through them. he gets flustered when you smile so sweetly at him. especially the time when he took off his helmet in front of you for the first time—almost choked on his saliva when you called him handsome and didn’t recoil at the sight of his scars. his heart hammers in his chest like he's fifteen again, like he's robin perched on a rooftop, scared of disappointing the world. like his youth wasn’t stolen.

you make him feel worthy. and jason can't decide if he should be alarmed or happy

yet he keeps coming back anyway to find out.

religious!jason todd who falls in love slowly its almost painful, then all at once. with the person of unshakable compassion, who saw past the anger and the pain of the man he was—with patience and understanding. who loved him back not in spite of his flaws, but because of them. you challenge him but never belittle him. you don't try to fix him, you don’t ask questions that he doesn’t want to hear, you simply sit with him and help him pick up whatever pieces he's willing to show that needed help.

you don’t care about the potential danger he drags to your doorsteps, nor the risks that come with dating the red hood. all you see is a man who may not have always been honest with himself, but is willing to be honest with you. and that is more admirable than anything else.

you remind him of the good he used to believe in. and that's when he realizes he's in trouble—because loving you feels like believing in god again, and he isn't sure he's ready for that kind of miracle.

religious!jason todd who thinks of your home as his now that he spends so many nights there instead of his own apartment. he thinks of you as his safe space. who has your head resting on his chest as you sleep, listening to those soft breaths leave your lips he got the pleasure of kissing many times already. reminding him that you're alive, that you're here with him and he holds onto you tighter to his frame with those muscular arms like you'll disappear. whose heart is pounding so hard and loud under your ear that he’s sure you can hear it in your sleep.

religious!jason todd who does something in that tender moment he hasn't done since he was a boy—he prays. not for forgiveness. not for salvation or an apology. he didn’t beg anyone to keep you tethered to him. he didn’t want to jinx it. but with quiet, reverent gratitude, he whispered a thank you to whatever higher power—god, fate, the universe. to whomever made the mistake of giving him someone like you. someone who made him believe in hope again.

just in case anyone up there actually listens this time.

• He wouldn't be much of a talker upon the first night outing, keeping those broad arms crossed under a leather jacket and a real mean bitchin' look on his face over dinner. This kinda' stuff really isn't his forte, he's a man that has killed and maimed men in different parts of the galaxy. He practically beats a bastich to work up an appetite for breakfast.

• But, once you bring up a topic of places and attractions up in the galaxy, thats when he tuned in. This guy has almost been everywhere, he knows the stars and planets like the back of his hand. Once you bring up the idea of visiting a space biker forge joint, he was all ears.

• It was really nice to roll up with a rockin' babe dressed all spunky for the occasion, other chumps turning and eye over and peepin' at the main man's date definitely something to flame his ego to new heights. He'd make sure to keep his hands on you while you both walked around, weather on your shoulders or hips. Anything to give the message that you're *his* pawn, nobody elses.

• Maybe this whole chummy relationship crap wouldn't be so bad after all, he loves spoiling you and showing you off because your *his*, you're the property of the main man, of *the* Lobo. Anything he can do that can make him look real good, he will do.

(Now we're getting to some suggestive areas, stay normal guys LMAO)

• As for behind closed doors, or rather, anywhere, he's definitely a fraggin' freak (affectionate) He's open to pretty much anything, as long as he gets to absolutely destroy you. Weather you put up a fight or just let him have it, it works for him and his insatiable appetite. If you're just as crazy as he is? It works just even better for him.

• If things get boring or if you're feeling real fiesty, he'll let you guide an expedition, but that doesn't mean you're in full control. If you degrade or just shame him enough, he'll snap and show you who's boss. He doesn't let anybody tell him who makes the rules or try to walk all over the main man, he will make sure to show it.

• Aftercare? He's never much for it, you're lucky enough if your split into two and he atleast takes you to get medical attention, otherwise, you better be real experienced to ride this rollercoaster honey. Of course if you both have been around eachother enough and swung through some ropes, he'll reconise some steps n' such to take to help you recover after a rustle in the jungle. Hope you like the thick smell of cigars and such though, he'll be chainsmoking them to hell and back while sitting back in bed after he's done with you.

That's about it! We're really obsessed with his comics and such currently, we can't rub off the Infanticide issue from our heads the art is just too good. If you guys seem to like this, we wouldn't mind doing another in the future! If you wish to support our other stuff, we have some doodles of Lobo provided by Effigy on our profile and another real mean peice of art cooking up here soon, stay tuned for that!