plot! the vessel of enchantress is now part of the team, the league thought it was better like that, better having her on their side than against them and someone has to teach her how to control the witch. they all know who you are, or what you are, but robin is the only one who doesn't see you as a monster, he sees through you in that persistent way of his and you can't ignore him even though you want to. enchantress f!reader x robin
a/n: thank you so much for the request sweetie!! so this is young justice season 1.5 based (so that robin is older but still robin) and i pictured enchantress from injustice 2 game and suicide squad movie.
song suggestion (idk why this gives me so much enchantress vibes)
The Watchtower’s airlock hissed shut behind you, the hum of the zeta tube fading to silence. You stepped forward, the boots you wore clicking softly against the polished floor. Every sound echoed, too loud in your own ears.
Another prison, Enchantress hissed from inside your skull, her voice a constant whisper against your thoughts. Shall we burn it down? These mortals think they can contain us.
Your jaw tightened.
You didn’t answer her, never out loud at least.
It was dangerous to feed her more than you had to.
The sliding doors opened to the conference chamber.
Batman was already there, looming in the shadows, arms folded. Beside him stood Zatanna, her magician’s outfit toned down for combat but still stylish, her bright eyes soft with concern as they fell on you.
The Team was gathered too.
M’gann hovered beside Conner, nervous but smiling. Kaldur stood tall, composed as ever, though his gaze sharpened with curiosity. Artemis leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, already skeptical. Wally was slouched near the table, his knee bouncing. And then Robin. Older now, shoulders broader, posture less boyish. He leaned casually against the back of a chair, dark cape draped to the side. His domino mask turned your way the moment you entered, and you felt the weight of his gaze.
Steady. Direct. Unafraid.
“Team,” Batman’s voice cut through the silence “this is your new member. She has experience the League considers… unique. She’ll be working with you, with oversight from Zatanna.”
M’gann floated forward, her hand half raised in greeting. “Hi! I’m M’gann—Miss Martian. It’s so nice to—”
“Careful, M'gann” Artemis muttered. “You don’t know what she can do.”
You kept your expression neutral.
It was easier that way, no warmth, no cracks. You got used to it since you understood the power of the witch inside you. You had to keep people at arm's length so they wouldn't get hurt.
“Don’t bother” you said, voice low. “I’m not here to make friends anyway”
A flicker of tension swept the room. Wally snorted. “Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”
“Enough” Kaldur said smoothly, though his eyes studied you with the same wariness as Artemis’s.
Then, Enchantress spoke. Not through your lips, yet, but her voice rolled beneath your skin, hungry. They do not respect you. Let me show them fear.
You clenched your fists. “Not now” you whispered under your breath, too low for the Team to hear.
But Robin did. You caught it, the way his head tilted just slightly, his masked eyes narrowing with interest.
Batman continued. “Zatanna will be monitoring her condition. The entity known as Enchantress is… volatile. But controlled.” His gaze cut to you sharply. “For now.”
Zatanna gave you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll help you. You’re not alone in this.”
You almost laughed. Alone was all you’d ever been.
The Watchtower felt like a cage of glass and steel. From the moment you stepped through the zeta tube, you knew the others felt it too: that sharp tension in the air, the unspoken weight of you.
You could feel their eyes on you.
Artemis’s skeptical glare, Conner’s distrust, Wally’s not-so-subtle side glances, M’gann’s hopeful smile trying to hide her nerves. Even Kaldur, ever the diplomat, stood just a little straighter, his body angled between you and the rest of the Team.
And then there was Robin again.
He didn’t stare. He didn’t flinch. He just… watched. His posture casual, leaning an elbow on the table, mask reflecting the light. The others’ attention slid across your skin like knives, but his gaze felt different, sharper, but not cutting. Like he was solving a puzzle, and you were the answer.
Shall we peel away the mask and see what’s left? Enchantress murmured in your mind. You clenched your jaw, ignoring her.
The first week was the hardest.
Training sessions with the Team were mandatory, Batman’s orders. You kept your distance. Your movements were precise but detached, never volunteering for sparring partners, always choosing the farthest spot on the mat.
“Not much of a team player, huh?” Wally muttered one day after drills. He tried to keep it light, but his eyes flicked nervously to your hands, like he half expected you to hex him into oblivion.
You didn’t answer. Silence was safer.
Artemis wasn’t so subtle. “If you’re going to act like you’re better than us, why are you even here?”
The words hit harder than you let them show. You turned away, tugging your gloves tighter.
Robin’s voice broke the tension. “Maybe she just doesn’t like archers.”
The room went still for a beat.
Then Wally burst out laughing, nearly tripping over his own feet. Even Conner cracked a smirk.
Artemis glared, but Robin just shrugged, unbothered.
You didn’t laugh. But you noticed.
Zatanna was your assigned anchor. She sought you out after every mission, every spar, every slip when Enchantress’s whispers got too loud.
“She feeds on your isolation” Zatanna explained one night, the two of you sitting cross-legged in the dim glow of the library. “If you wall yourself off from everyone, she wins. You need balance.”
You stared at the spellbook between you, not meeting her eyes. “You think making friends will fix this?”
“I think not being alone might” she said softly.
Her words lingered, even as you tried to shove them aside.
It was Robin who made ignoring the team impossible.
He had a way of appearing at the edges of your silence, slipping past walls before you realized they were breached.
When you chose the shadowed corner of the training room, he was there stretching beside you, cracking some joke about how broody corners were “his brand.”
When you avoided debriefs by standing against the far wall, he leaned back near you, flipping a batarang between his fingers, mask turned your way.
He never pressed. Never asked questions you wouldn’t answer. But he was there. Constant.
On your first mission, an infiltration gone sideways, you found yourself cornered by armed mercs, their tech-resistant armor shrugging off M’gann’s psychic blasts. Enchantress surged, hungry for release, clawing at your control.
Let me out. I will reduce them to ash.
Your fingers twitched, the spell on your tongue burning. But before you could break, Robin dropped from the rafters above, disarming two men in a blur of motion, smoke pellets filling the room. He didn’t even look back as he moved, trusting you to handle the rest without losing yourself.
And somehow, you did. You held the line.
Later, when the mission was over and the others were regrouping, Robin brushed past you. “Nice control back there.”
Just that. No fear. No suspicion. Just a quiet confidence, like he already knew you could handle it.
It left you shaken in ways the battle hadn’t.
The days blurred. Missions, training, debriefs. You kept your distance. But you started to notice things, small things.
Robin never flinched when Enchantress’s whispers slipped through your lips.
He didn’t edge away when your magic crackled too close.
When the others stared at you like a weapon barely contained, he looked at you like… like you were still a person.
And that was dangerous.
Because sometimes, when the lights dimmed and the team’s voices faded, you caught yourself listening for his laugh. Watching the way he spun a staff through his fingers. Noticing the curve of his grin when a plan came together.
And Enchantress noticed too.
From that day, you made a rule for yourself: avoid Robin.
Not because you disliked him, far from it, but because he was the one person who never looked at you with fear. Everyone else, you could read their hesitation clearly.
Artemis didn’t trust you, Wally couldn’t stop blurting nervous comments, even Conner and M’gann kept a subtle distance when your aura flickered green. Zatanna tried her best to guide you, but you could still see the sharp edge of worry in her eyes whenever Enchantress pressed through. They had every reason to be cautious, and you welcomed it. Distance kept people safe.
But Robin… Robin wasn’t cautious. He was curious. Bold.
Every time you caught his gaze across the room, his mask glinted with that infuriating spark of amusement, as if he was daring you to do something unpredictable. He treated you less like a bomb about to detonate and more like a riddle to solve, and that unsettled you more than anything.
So you kept out of his way.
If he was in the kitchen grabbing a soda, you made a sharp detour down the hall.
If he lounged in the lounge with his boots kicked up, you suddenly remembered you had to find Zatanna.
If he entered a room where you were already sitting, you’d gather your things quickly and leave, pretending you hadn’t even noticed him. It was easier that way.
You told yourself it was for his protection. Because deep down you knew: no acrobatics, no clever one-liners, no perfectly-aimed batarang would matter if Enchantress decided to rip through. If she set her eyes on Robin, he’d be gone before he could blink. The thought of that, of his laughter, his sharp wit, his brilliant mind, extinguished because of you, was unbearable. So you stayed away.
But avoiding him didn’t mean ignoring him. Not really. You noticed everything.
The way his laugh carried down the halls, sharp and quick, filling the cave with life that even M’gann’s sunny voice couldn’t quite match. The way he fought in training, every move sharp-edged and precise, the easy grace of someone who had been moving like this since childhood. The way he tapped at the holographic computers, fingers flying faster than your eyes could follow, mask tilted in concentration.
And you noticed the way he looked at you. Always too direct. Always too knowing. Like he could see more than you wanted to show.
Enchantress noticed too.
Oh he thinks you’re interesting she’d purr inside your mind when his gaze lingered too long. The little bird isn’t afraid. How delicious would it be to break him?
You’d clench your jaw, fists curling tight, and mutter under your breath where no one could hear: “Shut up”
But she never shut up.
Snap his bones like twigs. Crush that laugh in his throat. Paint the walls with his clever little tricks. Wouldn’t it be beautiful?
And every time, your stomach twisted with equal parts nausea and fear, because some terrible, traitorous part of you knew Enchantress could do it. And if she ever did, it wouldn’t matter how much you cared, it would still be your hands, your body.
Robin had no idea.
Or maybe he did, and that was worse. Because if he knew, he didn’t care.
He kept pushing, kept appearing where you least wanted him. He’d lean over the back of the couch where you sat with M’gann, mask gleaming, and drop some teasing remark just to see if you’d answer. He’d wander into Zatanna’s lessons, pretending to look bored while you struggled to hold Enchantress at bay, only to grin when you snapped at him. He wasn’t afraid of your sharp words, your cold exits, or the way your aura flared green for half a second when you were too tired to suppress her.
He wasn’t afraid at all.
That made your chest tighten in ways you didn’t understand at first.
Maybe it was anger, maybe it was admiration, maybe it was something else entirely. But every time you caught yourself watching him, every time you felt heat crawl up your neck because he’d caught you looking, you shoved it down. You couldn’t afford to feel anything toward him.
You were a human with a monster inside. He was a hero with the world on his shoulders. The line between you wasn’t thin, it was carved deep and brutal.
Still, you remembered moments you couldn’t shake.
The time Wally muttered “time bomb” under his breath and Robin cut in with that maddening grin, calling you “a puzzle box with teeth” and you couldn’t stop the way your lips almost twitched at the corner, almost a smile.
The way he leaned against the railing above the training bay, arms folded, mask tilted as if you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen, while you deliberately focused on Zatanna’s spells until your head ached. The way he walked into the lounge one night while you were reading alone, glanced at you, and for once said nothing, just nodded in that subtle, easy way that made you feel, against your will, like maybe you weren’t a monster after all.
That was how it began. Not with love, not with trust, but with fear.
Fear of yourself, fear for him, and fear of what it meant that out of everyone, he was the one you couldn’t stop noticing. He was too bright, too alive, too fearless, and no matter how much you avoided him, he was already finding his way past your defenses.
And no matter how hard you tried to starve it, it only grew.
During training, when you took the farthest mat to spar alone, he somehow always ended up across from you. Not in a way that drew attention, he’d joke with Wally, trade quips with Artemis, but then, without fail, when partners were called, he was in front of you, staff spinning in his hand like it weighed nothing.
“Don’t go easy on me” he said once, mask glinting with a smirk.
“You couldn’t handle it” you replied before you could stop yourself.
His grin only widened. “Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.”
It was small, but it stuck with you. You’d expected fear, hesitation, or at least annoyance. Instead, he treated you like any other opponent, no more, no less.
And when you nearly landed a hit that would’ve knocked his staff clear, he only laughed, breathless. “Not bad. You’ll have me paranoid in my sleep."
The others heard it too, his easy humor with you, and it chipped away at their own tension, even if just slightly.
It happened again that evening, after another grueling training session. The others had left the gym, voices echoing down the hall, but you stayed, sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, sweat cooling on your skin.
Robin lingered too. Of course he did.
He tossed his staff in the air, caught it effortlessly, and finally dropped down beside you, stretching his legs out. “You’re getting faster.”
You didn’t answer at first. Then “Or you’re getting sloppy.”
He chuckled, low and warm. “Harsh. But fair.”
Silence settled, not heavy, not sharp. Just there.
You glanced at him, mask catching the dim light, his mouth curved in that faint, ever-present smirk. And for the first time, you didn’t look away immediately.
You didn’t speak, but you didn’t ignore him either.
It was a small crack in the walls you’d built. But for Robin, it was enough.
Time had a way of dulling sharp edges. Weeks passed, and though you still kept your distance, it wasn’t quite the same iron wall it had been. You didn’t laugh at Robin’s jokes, but sometimes you didn’t shut him down either. You didn’t seek him out, but you didn’t move away when he ended up near you. And when Enchantress whispered that he was dangerous, that you were dangerous, you found yourself fighting her with more strength than before.
Because somewhere in the back of your mind, a dangerous truth was taking root: you cared what he thought of you.
You tried not to. You kept it buried, unsaid, hidden. But it was there all the same.
Training started normally that day. The gym buzzed with energy, Artemis and Wally bickering over technique, M’gann floating gracefully as she dodged Conner’s heavy swings. Kaldur guided them all with his usual calm authority, while Zatanna lingered near the edges, watching you with quiet vigilance.
You had been partnered with Robin again. Of course. It was almost expected now. Staff against staff, strike and counterstrike. He moved with precision, with speed, each blow a test, each dodge an invitation.
“You’re holding back” he said between clashes, his tone casual but edged with challenge.
“You don’t want me at full strength” you shot back, deflecting his strike with a twist of your wrist.
He grinned. “Try me.”
And maybe it was the grin, or the way your pulse had been running faster around him lately, or maybe it was the whisper that slipped too deep inside your head.
Show him. Break him. Let me out. Enchantress hissed, silk and venom.
You stumbled, just a flicker, just a crack in concentration, but it was enough. The shadows inside surged forward, green light sparking at your fingertips before you could swallow it back.
Robin froze, his staff lowering a fraction. “Hey. You okay?”
That single hesitation was all Enchantress needed.
The room warped. Your vision blurred, your limbs heavy and light all at once as her voice roared through you, no longer a whisper but a scream. Mine. My turn.
Your body convulsed. A gasp tore from your throat, then it wasn’t your voice anymore.
Enchantress straightened, rolling your shoulders like testing an old, familiar coat. A cruel smile curved your lips, eyes glowing sickly green.
“Well” she purred, voice layered, echoing through the gym. “Finally.”
The Team snapped into motion instantly. Artemis raised her bow, Conner’s fists clenched, M’gann’s hands sparked with psychic light.
“Back up!” Kaldur ordered, his voice steady but tense. “Do not engage until we know—”
But Enchantress laughed, low and sharp. “You think you can order me, little fish?”
Green magic crackled down your arms, sizzling against the mats. The others instinctively shifted back, forming a wide circle around you.
All except one.
Robin didn’t move. His staff lowered, his stance grounded, but he didn’t step away. He was still in front of you, no, in front of her.
“Robin—” Zatanna’s warning was sharp, fear edging her voice.
“I got this Zee” he said, eyes never leaving yours.
Enchantress tilted your head, studying him with mocking curiosity. “You don’t flinch huh? Not even now, brave little bat.” Her smile widened. “Or foolish.”
The green light surged higher, burning the air between you.
Robin didn’t blink. “Because you don’t scare me.”
Foolish, Enchantress hissed in your mind. He thinks he's talking to you. He thinks you can hear him. Let me show him how wrong he is.
But you could hear him.
His voice cut through the chaos, threading its way past the storm in your head.
“Hey” he said firmly, and for the first time, his voice wasn’t joking, wasn’t casual. It was grounded. Certain. “I know you’re in there. You can fight this. You’ve fought it before.”
Your body moved without your will, magic crackling at your fingertips, aimed at him. You screamed inside, trying to stop it, but Enchantress reveled in the power, in the way the Team tensed, ready to strike.
Robin didn’t raise his staff. He didn’t move to dodge. He just stayed where he was, mask locking on you like nothing else existed.
“You’re stronger than her” he said, voice sharp “I’ve seen it. You don’t let her win.”
Lies. Enchantress snarled, her control slipping, your hands trembling with the force of holding back. You will break. You always break.
Robin’s voice cut in, louder. “You don’t scare me, because I know you. Not her. You. The one who holds back when you could destroy. The one who still fights to stay in control.” His jaw tightened, words slicing the air with certainty. “That’s not weakness. That’s you winning.”
Your chest heaved, every muscle shaking, torn between the weight of her power and the anchor of his words.
And in the silence that followed, for the first time, you felt Enchantress falter.
He believes in you she whispered, not mocking now, but seething. Foolish girl. Weak. You would throw away power… for him?
Your vision blurred. Your hands dropped an inch. The green light sputtered.
Robin stepped closer, slowly, carefully, but without hesitation. “I know you’re scared. I know you think you’re dangerous. But you’re not alone in this fight. You don’t have to be.”
His voice softened, steady and real. “Come back.”
And somehow, you did.
The glow shattered, the storm collapsing inward. Your knees buckled, the world tilting, and you fell, straight into Robin’s waiting arms.
Your breath came in harsh gasps, sweat damp against your temples, your voice barely a whisper. “You… shouldn’t…”
“Yeah, well” Robin said, his tone low but unshaken, “I don’t scare easy.”
The others slowly lowered their guard, tension still high but edged with relief. Zatanna moved forward, eyes full of concern, but Robin didn’t let go of you.
He just held you steady, his arms firm, his gaze still locked on you like he hadn’t doubted for a second you’d come back.
And for the first time, you realized what terrified you most wasn’t Enchantress’s power.
It was how badly you wanted to believe him.
The team had dispersed in uneasy silence: M’gann ushering Conner away after his fists had clenched tighter than necessary, Kaldur promising they would debrief later, Artemis muttering under her breath about “walking time bombs” but not unkindly, more shaken than cruel. Zatanna lingered the longest, pressing your arm with a gentle squeeze before following her father through the Zeta tube.
And then it was just you. And him.
Robin didn’t leave.
You sat on the edge of the training mat, knees pulled to your chest, hair falling forward like a shield. The taste of ash still clung to your tongue, and the whisper in your head, the one that wasn’t yours, curled like smoke.
You dug your nails into your palms, willing her down. Willing yourself steady.
“Y’know,” Robin’s voice broke the silence, lighter than it had any right to be, “most people, after unleashing a centuries-old witch spirit on their friends, don’t just sit around.”
You didn’t lift your head. “Go away.”
“Mm. No.”
The mat dipped slightly beside you. You didn’t have to look to know he’d plopped down cross-legged, his cape pooling around him, his mask angled toward you with that impossible calm. Not fear. Not pity. Just… him.
You gritted your teeth. “You should at least be smart enough to keep distance.”
“And you should be better at ignoring me by now.” He shrugged. “Guess we’re both stubborn.”
Your breath hitched, and you hated that he heard it.
Robin leaned back on his hands, gazing up at the ceiling like you were just hanging out, like you hadn’t nearly lost yourself to Enchantress in front of everyone. “So. Wanna talk about it?”
You turned sharply, finally meeting his eyes, or the white slits of his mask. “What’s there to talk about? You saw it. They saw it. I can’t control her.”
“Correction.” His head tilted. “You did control her. Eventually.”
“That was you.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. Heat rushed to your face. You turned away again, fists curling. “You pulled me back. I don’t even know how.”
He was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke again, his voice had lost that teasing edge. Lower. Steadier. “Maybe you do.”
You swallowed hard. “You don’t get it, Robin. Every second I spend here, every time I try to train, or… or laugh, or pretend to be normal—she’s waiting. One slip, one crack, and I’m gone. You saw what happened.”
“I did.” His tone sharpened, cutting clean through your spiral. “I saw you fight her.”
You blinked, stung.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees now, every word deliberate. “Don’t twist it. You didn’t just… disappear. You wrestled her back. You’re still here.”
Your throat tightened, the weight of it pressing down. For the first time in a long time, you wanted to believe someone. Wanted to believe him. But—
“And what if I can’t next time?” Your voice cracked. You hated it. “What if she wins?”
Robin didn’t flinch. He shifted closer, until his shoulder almost brushed yours. You stiffened, but he didn’t press. He just sat there, warm and steady.
“Then we deal with it” he said simply.
You turned to him, searching his face for some sign of hesitation, some crack in his ridiculous confidence. But there was none. Only that impossible steadiness.
“Why?” The question slipped out raw, your defenses thin. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
For once, he didn’t answer right away.
He looked at you, really looked, like he could see past the mask you wore, past even the shadow of the Enchantress curled in your bones. And then, soft but certain “Because I don’t think you’re the scary one.”
Your breath caught. Enchantress snarled in your mind, furious at the vulnerability clawing up your chest, but you couldn’t stop it, you laughed. Broken, shaky, but real.
It startled him, a grin tugging at his mouth, quick and boyish. “See? Not that scary.”
You shook your head, wiping quickly at your face. “You’re an idiot.”
“Genius, actually.” He leaned back, hands behind his head, like the whole cave wasn’t still humming with the memory of what you’d unleashed. “But I’ll let it slide.”
The air shifted between you, quiet but not heavy anymore. Tentative. Something fragile but alive.
For the first time, you didn’t want to ignore him.
Didn’t want to shut him out. You wanted, dangerously, to stay right here, where he wasn’t afraid, where you didn’t feel like a monster waiting to break.
You didn’t say it. You couldn’t. But Robin didn’t need the words.
If it's "DC oops all lesbians" does that mean Alfred (the butler) and Killer Croc are lesbians too?
Sorry if this is a weird ask!!
yes >:) (also dw! not a weird ask at all ദ്ദി)
my yuri goggles are always operating on full throttle
(also changed moone to moon and made her korean... bc why not heh)
A Sea-Spell (1875-1877) by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (Italian, 1828 – 1882), signature and date lower bottom left: “D. G. Rossetti 1877”, oil on canvas, 111.5 cm (43.8 in) x 93 cm (36.6 in), Fogg Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge
feeling deviously fem and i'm going to make it the entire realms problem. i want to wear scandalously low cut dresses that hug my body like a second skin. i wanna pin a knight down with my heel over their chest plate while the slit up my leg shows off so much of my thigh. i want to entice a princess to let me into her bed and off of her window ledge, lest she want the entire kingdom to see what i'd do to her. i want to ride an innocent prince until he cries and then laugh when he gets overstimulated, watching how my hair drapes around him like a dark curtain. i want to catch a maiden in my web and look her over—watching as her arousal drips down her thighs with devilish hunger. tempt the huntsmen into my woods and turn him into the hunted, happy to claw and bite and mark with a dark lip paint. offer the blacksmith a trade for the best metals in the land for nights of pleasure. oh the terror i'll bring to the realm.
Ollie out here collecting gay kids like pokemon (i couldnt find a picture with roy in it too but hes there in spirit)
Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five | Part six | Part seven | Part eight | Part nine | Part ten | Part eleven | Part twelve | Part thirteen | Part fourteen | Part fifteen | Part sixteen
