.✦ ݁˖ dc characters reacting to you getting hurt .✦ ݁˖
Garfield Logan 'Beast Boy'-
The sound of the gunshot came too late. Garfield didn’t see it coming as he perched on the rooftop, his eight tentacles wrapped tightly around Deathstroke’s goons, preventing the Teen Titans from arresting Slade Wilson . But Garfield wasn’t aware that you were on the roof. You weren’t a hero no powers to protect or keep you safe.
Following the Titans into battle was an impulsive mistake. You knew they were heroes, but they kept their business to themselves so no villains would come after you.
As Garfield turned his head, the massive octopus tentacles shifted, dangling the already unconscious goons in their slimy grip. When he dropped them, a heavy thud echoed below. Awareness surged through his body in an instant. He shifted quickly back to the green-haired boy who was just that human.
He ran over to the sprawled-out body that was lying in a puddle of blood. Kory flew from where she was floating in the air and crouched behind holding her body, her head was in her lap. Kory's fingers moved, checking her pulse. “There breathing; there pulse is weak “ Garfield frantic look of panic on his face, he love you and now he couldn't loose you not like this. His fingers dusted the hair out of your eyes ‘’ hey talk to me,” he laughed.
“You always have something to say “ he said a goofy smile trying to keep the mood light “Death stroke really knows how to aim.” Muttering a smile on her face, you winced; the bullet shot her right in a place that wasn't automatic death. Raven crouched down. “Don’t joke like that,” she said in a stern but sweet tone. The purple magic around Raven's hands moved to the wound, muttering ancient demonic words to help the pain go away.
sweet tone. The purple magic around Raven's hands moved to the wound, muttering ancient demonic words to help the pain go away. Garfield looked back to see Cyborg. He leaned down, kissing a soft peck on her forehead. This was what family was right: to always feel safe and protected “go wth cyborg, okay “ he mutter his fear was still there, but being Garfield, he was going to be happy when his friend was in pain so there was no anxiety or fear. Nodding, she smiled, “Okay.” Garfeild saw her eyes closing; he stepped back, letting Cyborg pick them up, opening a portal. The mechanic clicking on his metal armor, “Let go, short stuff “ Cyborg says holding her as he walks through the portal. Garfield knew they would be safe and was gonna be okay and safe because you had everyone he loved looking out for you.
John was not sure how he got here but standing next to him was His ex who was a witch way more powerful than people would give them credit for, but the bloody plot twist of it all:
he says, his lips wrapped around the cigarette. As the ash landed on his trench coat, he saw her turning her head, arms folded around her chest, his eyes looking at her. He nodded. "Yeah, I am ready. What are we even looking for?" Asking making John smirk. "Bloody hell, I've told you twice," he teased. And that earned him a punch to the shoulder, causing him to rub his shoulder, a carefree laugh escaping his lips. He says, "Someone just wants me to investigate a house; they promise me big money," he says.
Walking ahead of John, rolling her eyes, "Is that all you care about? Money?" Turning their head they were in front of the demonic portal, she shrugged. "That'll be telling you my secrets. Let's go." He grinned, seeing their eyes roll in the back of their head. How cute. When you moved through the portal, all he heard was a "Fuck". He peeked his head. "Oh wow, rule one of portals: always check if there are stairs." Seeing her lying on the ground, frustrated as hell, he chuckled, "You good, love?" "Do I look okay?" "I just fell three feet from a damn portal," you said throwing there hands up. John stepped through the portal and landed gracefully, like a cat on all fours.
The mansion was something out of a gothic novel he once read, but the rooms kept moving and twisting with the energy. This place was filled with demonic energy. None of them talk. The wall was quiet until they walked right in front of a stairwell that had a floating door with a red aura around it. "Is this the door with the object inside ?" asking , making John nod. "What else could it be?" He gave you a half smirk. "Alright, let me just open it."
The door opened before he touched it. John turned his head, and she was already looking at him. "This is weird, John," you said . He could tell you uncomfortable. He personally cracked his fingers, which tingled with a hint of magic. Before John's fingers touched the door, the dark wood broke, and a gigantic demonic hand shot out to grab them His eyes flashed – no way a beast was going to take the one person who knew the gift and curses of being magical, and under all his sarcastic answers and cocky bravado, he once loved them "Bloody fuck, you demonic bastards have to ruin everything!" His eyes: "You better keep fighting, sweetheart!" He yelled, his magic swirling around him. He bent down with chalk in his hand as he drew a portal, summoning a demonic beast to attack the larger creature who had her in its hand.
Darkness and a mix of light magic flew through your hands and feet, kicking as the demon roared, escaping the door. "I won't. I got it," They said confidently, like this was every day for you and, well, it was.
But the damn mansion had to rotate on its axis, causing her to fall out of the demonic hand, landing on the floor, but they were fine; there breath was caught, off guard. "John! Watch out!" Standing up as fast as you could and used magic to deflect the demonic hand, but it was too late; the large hand hit them with full force, causing to get slammed against the wall, causing everything to go pitch black. "No!!" he yelled. "I'll be right there, love. Stay with me,"
he said. "Now you just pissed me off," John said. His minions he summoned helped push the demon right in front of him and through the door it crawl through out of. His moonblade was in the shape of a dagger, as the demonic being was now being stored in its blade. It glowed as he walked over; seeing her sitting up, he gave her a half-smile. "You good?" you chuckled. "Yeah, John worried about me." He huffed, "Yeah, maybe don't get a big head now, love." He says, holding out a cigarette for her, and he grins. "That was bloody stupid, but thanks or whatever," he says. leaning your'e head against his shoulder, both of them smoking with a demon now stored in a sword like it was a normal Tuesday. "You're welcome," you said blowing the rest of the smoke out of your'e lungs
“Alfred!” Bruce yelled as he stormed through the double doors of his dark, gothic mansion that had been his family's even before he was born. Looking down, he saw you in his arms, your limp body pressed against his chest. The white button-down that was once buttoned up was now ruffled and covered in someone else's blood. The butler, who was more like a father to Bruce, came in his face dropped as he nodded. He didn't need to say anything when he heard the news that the gala Bruce and you attended got attacked by the Joker. Bruce set you down on the dark black leather sofa in his study, seeing your bruised face from the goon who attacked you.
“Bruce, I am okay.” The choked-out sound that came out of your lips made him freeze from taking off his black jacket
The Gala was simple to raise funds under Bruce Wayne, somehow Joker knew this was an important night for him and you, so he attacked that why he was holding you guilt rising in his stomach, his anger and protectiveness making him want to slip in the night and arrest Joker.
“Master Bruce here,” Alfred walked in with a bowl of water and some bandages on a tray, with some other things that could clear and clean the wounds. “Thank you, “ he gruffed out, walking over. His larger hand moved, brushing your hair to the side so he could see your face His other hand dipped the rag into the large bowl of water. He sighed,
“You okay?” he asked, opening your eyes. Bruce could tell how drained and tired you were; the bruises from the attack were forming in yellow patches and purple spots. He sat down next to the sofa, rubbing the towel against the dry blood forming around the side of your own hairline.
“You've done enough, you got me out in one piece.” Bruce's hand hovered as he set the towel down, his hand cupping your jaw softly. “I would do it again and again,” he whispered. “Come sit up, I have to put medicine on the cuts,” he mumbled, his eyes saw the deep blush forming on your cheeks.
Sitting up, Bruce leaned forward. The smell of the cologne he always wore made you smile. His rough pad of his fingers with the medicine daps his fingers were dry, blood was, the cuts were already scabbing over. The moment was quiet, it was nice, no uncomfortable force talking. He looked at you, both of your eyes meeting. Bruce's cold expression faded as he leaned down, kissing the side of your cheek “Come on, you're sleeping with me tonight’’ he said. There was no argument. I wouldn't have it any other way,” you said, slowly walking next to Bruce, your fingers slipping into his own.
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