HEADCANONS: SU!SIDE SQUARE/BIRDS OF PREY CHARACTERS
Are they top or bottom/sub or dom
MALE READER
CHARACTERS: HARLEY QUINN, DEADSHOT (FLOYD LAWTON), RICK FLAG, CAPTAIN BOOMERANG (GEORGE "DIGGER" HARKNESS), EL DIABLO (CHATO SANTANA), POLKA DOT MAN (ABNER KRILL), THE HUNTRESS (HELENA BERTINELLI), BLACK CANARY (DINAH LANCE), VICTOR ZSASZ
Warnings: N/SFW, amab reader implied, ADULT CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
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Harley Quinn
-I can see her being both a dom and a sub
-really depends on her mood at that moment
-she can be all submissive and a pillow princess one moment, and the next thing you know she's on top of you pinning your hands down
Deadshot/floyd Lawton
-he's a top one hundred percent
-I like to think he tried bottoming for a man one time (whether it was you or not) and didn't like it
-now for the other question, is he a dom or a sub?
-he can be both, but either way he'll be in charge
-you're on top of him controlling the pace? Nah ah, he's secretly the one in charge
-you don't know how it's possible but it's all going according to what he wants
Rick flag
-I see him being a switch
-depend on his mood
-when he's angry he wants to fuck you to defuse the tantion, but when he's in a good mood he likes getting fucked by you
-but he's totally a sub
-he likes letting go of control and trusting his partner to do what's right
Captain boomerang/George "digger" harkness
-he'll never admit this to anyone besides you but he really likes being fucked
-he's a sub, no questions
-at the beginning he only tops, too embarrassed to ask you to top
-however when you do, his world flips upside down
-he won't admit he likes it right away, saying it was "ok", but he just keeps thinking about it and eventually submits to his desires
-oh how he loves being so roughed up he cant feel his legs for the next two days
El Diablo/chato Santana
-he's definitely a sub top
-he likes when you ride him
-gripping his shoulders and setting the pace however you like
-he also really enjoys being teased and tied up
Polka dot man/Abner krill
-I feel like he enjoys fucking someone rather than being fucked, even tho he doesn't really mind either way
-he's very shy at the beginning, so you think he's a sub
-and even tho he really likes being told what to do, he also enjoys being in charge very much
-but when he doms he's a soft dom, doesn't like hurting you
The huntress/Helena bertinelli
-I see her as a switch
-enjoys both subbing and domming, but prefers subbing
-likes letting go of control and just feeling good without doing much
Black Canary/Dinah Lance
-oh she's definitely a Dom
-will literally destroy you
-she has so much energy, when you have sex get ready for at least two rounds
-she's also a teaser, likes seeing you desperate and begging for her
Victor zsasz
-he likes displaying himself as a big tough guy, how dare you suggest him being on the bottom
-but he is
-he can be a sub and a dom just fuck him hard
-will literally let you do anything to him, scratch him, choke him, slap him, he's all yours
-but if you say something about it to others you better run
-also he's totally a brat
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Consider:
Leo Valdez was not born. Instead, two pairs of hands form him from bronze and steel and gold. His hair is copper wires so thin they bounce like natural curls, and his eyes glimmer with silver flakes. The joints of his body are plated so delicately, so perfectly, the segments are near indiscernible, smoothly gliding over each other. Faint traces of fingerprints and flecks of impurity are deliberately left behind for their uniqueness, a form of impossible signature of his creators.
Most importantly, gilded bars curl around each other in his chest, protecting the red-red-red flame that pushes his eyes open everyday, that beats in tune with his thoughts, that heats his body to expand and grow.
A metal child is not so different from a human one, and yet is so far from it at the same time. He is curious, about the world, about himself, and he picks apart toys and TV remotes and his arms, spilling their secrets before his constantly shifting eyes. He does not cry from fatigue or thirst or hunger, but a bump, a dent, a scratch never fail to draw tears. He splashes in the rain and snow, carefully bundled in waterproof coats and jackets, and runs from baths like he's possessed, fire flickering in fear.
The first time he meets someone like him, an endeavour he had long thought hopeless, it is a malfunctioning dragon others call for the death of; he is too unpredictable, too dangerous, too broken. Leo looks him in ever-shifting eyes glimmering with silver and sees himself if the cage in his chest ever bends, cracks, shatters, if the gears beneath his skin ever jam and stick and wear down irreversibly.
It is not golden flowers and godly aid that preserve him; just as he'd done for his twin-in-all-but-appearance, he creates a new body, with new fingerprints and impurities mapping his design. His hair is more bronze than copper, now, and his eyes more gold than brass. The plates of his joints scrape against each other faintly, and the gears of his bones grind together uncomfortably — he only had so much time, so much material to use, he could not polish every element of himself in the way he wished, but it holds together.
Most importantly, he reinforces the cage in his chest, coats it in layers upon layers of metal, to ensure his flame will not go out in the explosion, that Festus will be able to salvage it and lay it gently in the chest cavity carefully carved in his new body, bringing it to life.
He returns to Camp, movements more clunky and mechanical than should be, and his siblings finally pin down his segmented limbs, his shifting eyes, his clicking fidgeting. They are ecstatic, just as fascinated with him as they had been with Festus, and he lets them. He lets them take him apart, piece by piece, clean out the sand of Ogygia from his organs, polish and oil his gears until they glide against each other, press new fingerprints, new signatures of belonging, against his skin.
Most importantly, they craft him a secure, intricate cage, with golden flames licking up the bars, with delicate chains shielding it from the elements, and his flame settles inside it, flickering happily, finally truly, truly comfortable in the cage of his body.
Leo Valdez may not have been born, but he was crafted with the most loving hands imaginable, and is that not so much better, for a son of the Craftsman?
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