#the green lanterns are so gender fucked

[snikt111]

“hal jordan isnt trans”

SHE USED SHE HER PRONOUNS IN CNAON EXPLODES EXPLDOEES EXPLODEESSSSSS

[awritersrejections]

some FACTS via @pluckyredhead

as you may know, reading tumblr posts about Dean Winchester is an experience surprisingly akin to auditing classes on gender performance and masculinity at a graduate level media studies program. at least if you read enough of them.

which unfortunately I have! and now I have some thoughts.

see, there are character archetypes that crop up over and over again, and particularly often in 90s and 00s genre TV shows. I am vastly oversimplifying, but let’s boil them down to the Three Main Kinds Of Dudes you are most likely to see in these shows.

Let’s start with the Guy Who’s Not Cool, And Knows It. he’s all over the place: he’s Xander on Buffy, and later Wesley. he’s Julian Bashir, Rodney McKay, Seth Cohen and (at least early on) Alec Hardison. he’s usually not the main character, but he’s up there in the main credits.

and he’s textually, overtly anxious about his masculinity. this is something that other characters comment on, and sometimes he admits to it himself. his long-term character arc is — at least in part — about resolving that anxiety, confronting it and growing past it over time.

(he’s also, often, a self-insert for the guys in the writer’s room. but we don’t have time to unpack all of that.)

our second category is a bit more of a grab bag, because in some ways it covers all the guys who don’t fit into categories 1 or 3. but, broadly, we can call him the Guy Who Doesn’t Need To Make A Big Deal Out Of It. he’s the guy who comes across as quietly secure in his masculinity, who has nothing to prove on that front and whose story doesn’t need to be about proving it. Sometimes he functions as a foil for the Anxious Guy, sometimes he’s just quietly ticking along in the parts of the story that aren’t about Proving anybody’s Manliness. He’s Giles and Oz and Gunn, Eliot Spencer, Ronon Dex, Benjamin Sisko.

and then there’s the Cool Guy.

the Cool Guy is a main character, or he has top billing in an ensemble cast. the Cool Guy is a walking, talking grab-bag of heroic mannerisms. He’s tough and strong and he doesn’t talk about his feelings. he’s a ladykiller. he’s a flirt. he has the popular imagination version of Captain Kirk’s personality, and the popular imagination version of Han Solo’s sex appeal. he kills bad guys and drops a witty one-liner afterwards. he can fly a plane, or a spaceship, or drive a cool car or ride a motorcycle. he walks away from explosions without flinching. he’s not doing this ironically. he’s not performing. he’s just Cool.

as written, he has the depth of a cardboard standee.

but he’s played by an actor who’s, you know, a real human person, and wants his character to have some kind of interiority. so this weird alchemy happens, over and over again.

here’s the thing about that grab-bag of Cool Guy traits and mannerisms: there are real men, in real life, who do most of those things. and most of them probably aren’t overcompensating for anything! but also? none of them have the whole grab-bag. They have, like, two at most.

no one does all of them unless they’re doing them on purpose — unless they’re putting on a performance. but the Cool Guy as written isn’t performing. and the actor playing him has to embody that impossible character while giving him some kind of depth.

So what happens? Dean Winchester. John Sheppard. All the Cool Guys who are meant, textually, to be Effortlessly Performing Masculinity... and subtextually read as desperately overcompensating for their queerness.

whoops!

and somehow tv writer’s rooms keep doing this! they think that if they just pile on more Cool Guy traits, they’ll make the performance convincing, when they’re actually just undermining him more and more.

(sometimes the Cool Guy isn’t even meant to be heroic! the writers of Smallville tried, as far as I can tell, to make Lex Luthor come across as a suave, worldly, sophisticated ladykiller. what they got was a man who makes way-too-intense eye contact with a buff farm boy while suggestively drinking fancy bottled water.)

(also I didn’t watch Teen Wolf but I am given to understand that Derek falls in this category? and Stiles is for sure an archetypical Anxious Guy.)

the thing about the Anxious Guy is that because his anxious masculinity is textual, it can be addressed and resolved in the text. Because the Cool Guy is not textually performing, not textually anxious, he just has to keep on being that guy without the text ever acknowledging that there’s anything weird about it. and all the while the subtext is screaming that this! man! is! trying! too! hard!

and we as viewers with eyes in our heads can see that tension, between what’s said and what’s shown, and tbh most of the time the simplest and most obvious way to resolve it is to say “ah. okay. that man is Not Straight.”

so that’s why Dean Winchesters keep happening. thank u for coming to my ted talk.

[r3ynah]

I Can be everything and anything, at once

A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.

If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.

But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.

Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.

Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.

Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.

The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.

"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "

"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.

The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.

Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.

"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.

Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"

The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"

Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.

Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.

currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.

He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.

Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.

The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."

Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."

his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.

And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.

Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.

"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.

Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"

"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.

"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.

"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.

this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.

[sanguineterrain]

Hey I saw you're still taking requests... what about a batman x reader where the justice league meets his wife (the reader) by accident? And maybe they're shocked because he's so secretive and she's really sweet and just the total opposite of him. Feel free to ignore if this doesn't sound interesting to you. I love your writing 💗

Hey! I love this prompt, thanks for sending it in :) I made the reader gender neutral, I hope that's okay!

Bruce Wayne x spouse!gn!reader. No warnings, just Bruce being a little shit (and a sweet hubby).

****

You press your palm to the reader at the entrance of the Cave and jog down the stairs, talking all the way.

"Honey, Alfred and I are going to..."

Six superhero faces stare back at you. Bruce is in the cowl, expression hard to parse. Your brows rise.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't know B had company. I'll leave you to it," you say, beginning to back up the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," says Green Lantern. You can't tell through the mask lenses, but you think he might be zeroed in on the ring on your left hand. "Uh, Spooky? Something you wanna tell us?"

You freeze on the steps. Bruce looks at you, then crosses the Cave in a few long strides. He stops next to you.

Sorry, you mouth at him. He shakes his head and reaches out to squeeze your hand.

"Hold the fucking phone," Green Arrow begins. "You're his—"

"Partner," Wonder Woman says instantly. She sounds pensive. "I have never seen you look at anyone like that, Bruce."

Bruce doesn't say anything, not that you expect him to. You feel him tense.

He'd been content to keep his family as private as possible, and you hadn't minded being kept separate. You know it's out of extreme protectiveness and the fact that you're the only one of the Wayne family who doesn't put a suit on and fight crime.

There's a moment of silence as the League studies you, then Bruce. You smile slowly and wave.

"Hi, Justice League. Nice to meet you all."

"Hello," says the Martian Manhunter, who's probably known about you since you entered Wayne Manor.

"You got married without telling us?" Superman sounds hurt.

Bruce heaves a sigh.

"We got married during the League's infancy. Please spare me the theatrics. Of course I didn't tell you."

"We revealed our identities two years ago!" Superman argues. "You didn't want to mention you have a spouse?"

Superman nods at you then. "Uh, of course, it's still very nice to meet you."

You smile. "It's nice to meet you too, Superman."

"Clark," he corrects hastily. Then he turns to Bruce again, upset flaring. "Bruce—"

"You're upset over nothing," Bruce says. "We weren't close when I got married, and I never found it a pertinent detail."

You roll your eyes.

"B," you say, nudging his shoulder. "C'mon. Try to be a little gentler about this, hm?"

Bruce looks at you. You smile at him and squeeze his wrist encouragingly. He eventually turns back to the League.

"Very well, you're right. Clark, that was harsh of me. My apologies."

The League startles.

"Whoa. Rewind. Hold up. Did Spooky just apologize?" Green Lantern asks. "Did I just get zeta'd?"

Bruce sighs. You stifle a laugh and kiss his bicep. His hand slips to your back.

"Aw, you guys are cute," Flash says jovially. "Congrats, B! Even if it's been almost six years."

Bruce nods. "Thank you, Allen."

"It is incredible how the better half can transform the other," says Wonder Woman, and you preen a little at the compliment.

Clark looks flabbergasted. It takes him a second to speak again.

"Um. That's... okay, Bruce. I forgive you. I suppose you did it out of protection, right?"

"I'm just a boring ol' civilian," you say, nodding. "No powers or years of Krav Maga training here. B worries."

"You're not boring," Bruce says fiercely, quiet enough for only you to hear... and Clark, who has superhearing, and who softens at the statement.

"This is so weird," Green Lantern says, and Bruce glares at him.

"I mean, it's sweet!" he hastily adds. "Uh, you guys are very sweet together, like Bar said. I just feel like I've been mind controlled or something."

"If it was mind control, you wouldn't still be talking," Bruce says flatly.

"Okay, alright, point taken. Shutting up. It's very nice to meet you, though," Green Lantern says to you.

"You as well," you say warmly. "All of you. I want to thank you for looking out for him all these years and bringing him home safe."

Wonder Woman smiles at you. "It is a great honor to fight alongside him. And we are happy he has someone to come home to."

"Seconded," Clark says. "You deserve someone special, B. And I can tell they're just that."

Your face feels warm under all the praise. Bruce is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks again, there's a slight tremor in his voice.

"Thank you. I—they are the best thing to ever happen to me."

You have to kiss Bruce for that, cowl be damned. He meets you gently, and you keep it short but full of love. Flash aww's.

"Well," you say, laughing bashfully. "I suppose I'll let you all get back to work. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. Bruce, I'm going out with Alfred."

Bruce nods. "Call me when you get home."

"'Course, sweetheart. I always do."

You head up the stairs. Flash starts to speak.

"Y'know, I told you all when I got married," he says. "You guys were the first people I told! We didn't even know Clark's identity then. I think you could've loosened the reins, Bruce."

"Yeah, no. You telling a bunch of superhero co-workers is infinitely stranger than Bruce never telling us, Bar."

[magicalbats]

Kinktober Day 15: Noncon

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6908

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, familial death, noncon, like super noncon, debt, monetary coercion, references to prostitution and public use, implied master/slave dynamic, piv sex, blowjob, throat fucking, double penetration featuring a Fatui debt collector 

A/N: at this point I think anything I write for a Harbinger is just going to be exceptionally dark and gross so tbh consider that a warning in and of itself. This one’s rough so please pay attention to the tags before proceeding any further! I love you guys and I want you all to stay safe so feel free to skip this one if you think you need to!

⭐

Snow crunches under heavy boots as you make your way through the small village you called home. It was late, and the moon was out. Its muted, hazy glow casts over the snowdrifts and the shoveled heaps piled away from silent doorways to make it all glitter and shine like mountains of precious silver. You wished that was what it was. Wished you could dig your hands into it and scoop out palmfulls to spend on food and clothes, firewood for the hearth at home so you wouldn’t have to break your back chopping it for yourself every day. Maybe even a new comb for your hair, as a treat. 

You would have been able to afford anything at all if it was something of actual worth stretching out around you as far as the eye could see, so of course you would splurge on a comb. Perhaps even two. And a dress, a fancy one that would make the other girls green with jealousy while the boys threw themselves at your feet like shameless dogs. Anything and everything would be just at your fingertips in this perfect world of whimsical fantasy. Even your freedom. 

It was a nice thought. A tempting one, even. But if snow could be somehow transmuted into silver or any other precious metal then Snezhnaya would be the financial capital of Teyvat rather than the far distant Liyue. Your father had told you about it on occasion, what kind of place it was. How bustling with business and commerce the streets were. You’d thought it sounded like a strange but exciting place. So much potential for success bursting at the seams, just waiting to be struck upon, that you’d once even dreamed of going there yourself some day. Of making a future beyond the hopeless deadend you saw here. 

But that was little more than a long forgotten flight of fancy now, much like your silver-snow. Fantasies were just idle hopes and wishes for children who hadn’t yet learned the crushing truths of the world, and the weight of that sags your shoulders as you work to jostle your front door open. You were tired and cold, and quickly running out of options. 

The door finally gives way with a creak, and you stumble inside to knock the snow off your boots before bending to unlace them. You’re halfway through the motion, one shoe already undone and half kicked off, when you suddenly realize you’re not alone. 

You aren’t sure if it’s a shift of movement at your peripheral, if the redistribution of weight had displaced one of the old floorboards to issue a squeak of warning or if it’s something in the air that just feels … occupied. But you’re immediately aware of it on an intrinsic level and your heart seems to play hopscotch across your ribcage. Frozen to the spot, you just listen to the resounding silence for a long, horrible beat. Then your head comes up to glance across the room at the open doorway that leads into the small kitchen. A warm flicker of light greets your horrified gaze, taunts you with a beckoning sputter. You certainly hadn’t left the lantern burning this entire time, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have even had a home to return to. 

Slowly straightening, you hastily shove your feet back into your boots and reach for the knife hidden under your jacket. You grasp it in a tight, squeezing fist, just the way your father had shown you, and creep towards the doorway. It feels like you're hardly breathing but your pulse still jumps when the floor creaks under you. Nothing to be concerned about though, you try to tell yourself. They would have heard you come in anyway, especially since your damn door never wanted to open right. It was fine if they knew you were there because you knew where they were and it was your house, so you still had the upper hand. Probably. Maybe. 

Oh, please don’t let there be more than one of them, you pray to whichever god might be listening. 

Edging yourself close to the entryway, you’re more than a little relieved to find that it is indeed just a single figure standing over your rickety dinner table and you almost breathe out a heavy sigh. But then that shadowy mass turns, the cast of the lantern illuminating the face, and you nearly drop your knife in surprise. 

“L - lord Regrator?” 

He smiles at you, always soft and always gentle. “Hello, pet. Finally off work are we?” 

You just stand there, mouth moving wordlessly around any number of things you could have said to him in that moment. ‘What are you doing in my house?’ for starters. Maybe even an impulsive ‘why are you sneaking around at night like a thief?’ But all you finally manage to croak out is a threadbare, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, my lord” because you simply don’t know what else to say. 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I haven’t been here for very long.” Still smiling, still soft, he reaches out with an elegantly poised gloved hand as if to touch the top of your table but he stops short. Seems to hesitate. Thinks better of it, and instead sweeps those long fingers outward to gesture at the kitchen at large. “Your home is lovely. Quaint.” 

Pantalone hides his grimace exceptionally well. You only barely manage to make out the slightest tension that settles around his mouth in the cast of the burning lantern that sits sentry on the table between you and him, tossing odd shadows across his face. His contempt for your lodgings is clear though and you self consciously dart your eyes around the room as if seeing it all for the first time. The old, dilapidated iron stove that looked like it was on its last leg, the crack in the wall where the foundation was starting to give, bit by bit, and the rusting coffee carafe sitting in the tub sink. It probably did look abhorrent compared to what he was in all likelihood used to but it was all you’d ever known. The only thing you’d ever had that couldn’t be taken away. 

Swallowing hard, you center your focus back on him and try not to think about how much he looked like a finely dressed specter standing in the ruins of your life like this. Beautiful and nice to look at but you knew too well the venomous fangs he was hiding beneath that deceptively pleasant veneer. Like a wraith come to life to haunt you endlessly. Tirelessly. Ghoulishly. 

“Please forgive me, my lord.” You whisper into the eerie stillness. “Had I known you would be coming I would have cleaned and made preparations. Would you like me to make tea?” 

“Not at all.” 

You wince, and try not to wither. “Then is there something I can help you with?” 

Noising a thoughtful sound, Pantalone casually shifts into motion and you very nearly go scuttling backwards to escape him. But, to your surprise, he doesn’t approach you and instead wanders over to the stove to give it a shuttered but no less judgemental inspection. You start to bring your hand up to wipe the beading sweat from your brow only to abruptly realize you were still holding onto the knife. 

Stealing a look at where you’ve got it clutched in a death grip, you quickly decide to keep it out for the moment. You very well might need it. 

“One would think that old fool would have used some of the loan he borrowed to do a bit of upkeep on the place.” He murmurs, more to himself than you and perfectly offhand, but it still makes your chest squeeze tight. You probably should have seen this coming but the hurt catches you off guard. Makes you hate him just a little more. 

“I’m sorry my home is not to your liking, lord Regrator. I could have met you somewhere else if you’d just - -“

“Oh?” Pantalone cuts across you, neither raising his voice nor sharpening his tone. It’s the same soft, gentle refinement in his voice as usual that makes you cower in the doorway when he turns to make his long cloak flutter outward like a dancer. “And why would I give you the chance to run out on me like that? I know this isn’t exactly your area of expertise, dear, but surely even you must know that that’s just bad for business.”

You find yourself prickling defensively. For him to even insinuate such a thing … “I wouldn’t do that, my lord. I’ve been working hard to pay you back this entire time, just like we agreed. I even got a second job at the mill so I could make ends meet and still be able to make my payments on time. To up and leave after all the effort I’ve put into - -“

“Then can you give me your next payment now?” 

“I … my lord, I still have another week to get it.” 

Looking at you through the creeping gloom, Pantalone finally allows a small frown to tug at his mouth. “So that’s a ‘no’? Such a pity. I’d really rather hoped you would be better than your father.” 

You feel like you’re going to be sick. Hot and nauseous, and increasingly dizzy, you just stare at him for a drawn out beat before finally giving your head a numb shake. “No. That’s not what you said. My lord, you agreed - -“

“Let me explain something to you.” He cuts across you again, the faintest note of displeasure coloring his voice now. Sedately, he folds his hands together and moves towards you with the slow, rhythmic thud of his boots on the floorboards making your heart pound even faster. It sounded deafeningly loud in your cotton stuffed ears. “Loans are not granted out of goodwill and charity. There are terms that must be agreed upon by both parties before any mora can trade hands. Would you care to take a guess what terms your father took his loan out on?” 

You shake your head and back up a step, still clutching the knife beside your hip. Every fiber of your being was screaming at you to run, flee as fast as you can and never look back, but that would just make things worse, wouldn’t it? Prove that his wariness to trust you was well founded. You couldn’t afford to test the limits of his benevolence any further, figuratively or literally, so you stand your ground even when he comes within arms reach where he finally stops. Tilts his head to one side and then draws a calm breath. 

“Twenty-five percent interest. That is what accumulates every single day you don’t make a payment in full. To put it in layman’s terms, the only way for you to even make a dent in your fathers loan would be to pay around, oh, let’s say … 16000 mora a week?” 

Your knees almost give out right from under you. That couldn’t be true. There was no way … “Do — do you really expect me to be able to pay that much?” 

Softly tutting at you, Pantalone fixes you with a truly pitying look. “Oh, sweet girl. I would never ask something so unreasonable of you. But, as it stands, you did agree to take responsibility for the loan. Rather than a personal expectation on my part, you now have the obligation to pay it back regardless of my own personal thoughts on the matter.” 

“What choice did I have?” You croak. “What else was I supposed to say when you showed up at his funeral and started talking about stuff I have no knowledge of? You made it sound like I didn’t even have a say in it.” 

“Well, that’s hardly my fault if you agreed to something without understanding the full consequences.” 

You were starting to pant even though you hadn’t moved for some time now. It was like you were a tea kettle on the brink of boiling, so hot and messed up inside that you weren’t sure what the inevitable explosion was going to look like. You wanted to scream at him, throw yourself on the floor and sob like an inconsolable baby. You wanted to curse him, spit at him, hurt him — hurt him? 

Your fingers desperately clench around the knife to make sure it was still there. 

You could hurt him. 

Maybe you should hurt him. 

“You’re a monster,” You hiss, finding strength in your conviction, in the blade that had become a part of your arm, an extension of it. Stiffly, you shift to the side so he won’t see the way you readjust your grip on the handle to make sure you’ve got a good hold on it. “A twenty-five percent interest rate? That’s insane. No average person could pay that back in a single lifetime and you know that. You’re just a thief taking advantage of people.” 

Seamlessly, Pantalone’s placid little smile slips back into place. “Is that so?” 

“Yes.” You hiss the word at him, and try to work up your courage to follow through. You’d never stabbed another person before but in this instance, for him, you were quite certain you could. All you needed to do was goad him into closing the distance and get him near enough for your knife to reach. “You prey on the poor and impoverished like it’s some kind of game, don’t you? Is this what gets you off?” 

“That’s a rather crass thing for a young lady to say, isn’t it?” He simpers at you. Then, much to your heart pounding surprise, he takes a step towards you. And another. “But since you asked I feel it would be remiss of me not to give you an answer. How does a demonstration sound?” 

Your eyes go big, startled heat warming your cheeks quicker than you can even process it. There wasn’t enough time to think about that right now though. He was almost right on top of you, looming over you like some horrible, menacing beast in his fine furs. You seem to have forgotten how to breathe when the only thought flashing through your mind was sinking the blade in your hand through his chest. His neck. Whatever you could reach in the split second chance you were going to get to deliver the blow. Jaw clenched painfully tight, you squeeze your fingers around the knife so hard it hurts. 

And you lunge. 

An unseen hand materializes out of the darkness behind you and snatches your upraised wrist before you can bring it down. You’re so caught off guard that you don’t even have the wherewithal to gasp. A rough jerk on your arm yanks you off balance and right back against a solid wall of muscle that doesn’t even shift at the impact. Your animal instincts seem to take over and you wildly jerk your head up, just catching a glimpse of a red mask, a black hood, and then sharp, tearing pain is shooting up your captured limb. The masked fiend — a man, judging by his frame — twists and mercilessly bends your wrist until you drop the knife with an earth shattering clatter on the floor. Dully realizing you were caught and unarmed now, you violently wrench against his hold in an attempt to free yourself but he just drags you against him again. 

Screaming and kicking, he heedlessly maneuvers you further into the kitchen but even trying to turn into dead weight in his arms doesn’t dissuade him in the slightest. All he does is haul you close, lift you up in the air and then slam you down on top of the table with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’re distantly aware of him shuffling back a step as you lie there, gasping and wheezing while you weakly try to pull your body upright again but it’s useless. The teeth rattling impact against the sturdy wood had effectively stunned you. Your limbs didn’t want to cooperate and it was hard just to breathe, let alone try to run or fight back. 

And somehow through all the agony you’re vaguely aware of Pantalone’s approaching boot steps on the floor. 

“Goodness, was that really necessary? You could have set the whole place on fire.” He tut tuts at his underling and you slowly turn your head to watch him pick up the lantern where it was tipped over. The only thing that had stopped it from shattering or rolling off onto the floor was the protective cage around the glass but you weren’t sure if you wanted to thank whoever had designed it or curse them for it. There was no telling what they were going to do to you, and you may have preferred going up in a puff of smoke when all was said and done … 

Archons above, how were you supposed to get out of this? 

“Now,” Intoning, Pantalone gracefully moves to set the lantern on the adjacent countertop where it wouldn’t get knocked over again. The glow from the flame dances and moves with him, and you groan when it seems to make your nausea double down. You’d never felt quite so sick in all your life. “As I was saying, I think a hands-on demonstration should satisfy your curiosity well enough. As an aside, though, I would suggest not asking men about their sexual proclivities in the future. It just might keep you out of trouble.” 

“Bastard …” 

He comes close again, reaching out to close his fingers around the roots of your hair so he can yank your head back against the table. Seething, you glare up at him but he just keeps smiling that same polite smile. It was hideous. 

“My, my, that really is a filthy mouth you’ve got. Did you learn that from your father? Perhaps we should wash it out with soap while we’re at it.” 

“Stop it! Do not speak of him!” 

Chuckling faintly, Pantalone slowly lets up on your hair before moving to step around the table. Wheezing, you hastily try to roll over so you can slip down to the floor but the masked man stops you dead in your tracks. He was just standing there. Watching. Still and silent as a statue but you didn’t have to see his eyes to know how attentive his focus was. Like he was just waiting for the slightest hint of real resistance so he could use it as an excuse to rough you up again. Evil and loyal to a fault. 

From out of the void, Pantalone’s gloved fingers abruptly brush over your pants leg to make you jolt and whip your attention around so fast the room starts to spin. But once your vision clears enough to see, you just find him standing over you and as at ease as ever. He would have looked completely unassuming if you didn’t know any better.  

“Do try to keep your eyes on me, darling. After all, I’m going out of my way to give you a thorough and worthwhile answer, so the least you can do is pay attention.” 

“Please don’t …” 

Drawing a stilted breath that seems to shudder at the tail end, he slowly drags his palm up to your knee and then back down until it hits the top of your boot. Casually, much too casually for your liking, he disinterestedly nudges it off your foot to hit the floor before repeating the process on the other side. You cower on top of the table, biting back a sob when he reaches up to unbutton your jacket next, but you understood too well just how trapped you really were. The masked man was standing between you and the entryway, much bigger and much stronger than you were. You’d never be able to fight your way past him. In front of you was Pantalone and to the other side … the small kitchen door that led out into the yard was a non option because you hadn’t shoveled away the snow in months. You’d thought it was a good idea to leave as few points of entry into the house as possible now that you were alone, but you realized just how foolish that really was. You had no way out, no viable exits. 

“Are you really going to do this?” You fearfully whisper into the still air. 

With a soft click of his tongue, Pantalone gets the last button undone and brings his hands up again to push the jacket over your shoulders. “Only because you asked.” 

A full bodied tremor tears through you at the pur in his silky voice. Sucking in a ragged, gasping breath, you turn your head against the table to fix your attention on the beckoning door while he works on the next layer, and the next, leaving everything bunched around the bends of your arms, until he at last gets down to the bottommost chemise. You shiver at the loss of heat and the chill that rushes in to replace it, your nipples already cutting up into the thin material, but your reaction doesn’t so much as give him pause. 

Gloved hands drag up your front to cup around the swell of your breasts and squeeze, making you whimper in the back of your throat. “Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise. I had no idea you were hiding such a voluptuous body underneath all those clothes.” Humming softly, as if in consideration, Pantalone readjusts his hold and shoves your tits together to make them squish under the final layer. “These are nice, aren’t they … have you ever considered going into prostitution? I’m sure you could make a pretty mora for yourself.” 

You screw your eyes shut but it doesn’t do much to block out the sound of his voice. “I would never …” 

“Oh? What a shame.” Pausing, he releases your chest in favor of neatly folding the material up to bunch under your chin and you outright writhe when the chilly air hits your stiff nipples full blast. “Though, if I’m being honest, I am quite tempted to take you with me back to the palace and start selling you myself. You’d be quite popular, you know. One look at this body and every man in the room would be tripping over themselves just to give me their entire savings for a mere hour with you. Perhaps you could pay me back that way, hm?” 

Whimpering when Pantalone lightly brushes his fingers over the pebbled peaks of your breasts, the leather stiff and cool to the touch, you twist your neck back in a blithe attempt to escape that velvety croon. It was no use though. Like you were smothered under his presence you could feel him, hear him all around you. You could even taste him on the back of your tongue where the cloying scent of expensive cologne swarmed your senses. It was too much. You didn’t want this. 

“Please … I’ll do anything, just — please don’t do this to me.” 

He gently shushes you even as he takes a moment to tweak your nipples, almost idly plucking at them until you hiss and choke on a broken little sob. Leaning over you then, hunching close, Pantalone puts his face near enough to yours that his exquisite eyeglass chain slides forward to brush against your cheek. He just looks at you like that for a long moment, still pinching your teats like an afterthought. 

Then, “You’ll do anything except the one thing that might actually get you out of this mess? My dear, I think you’re even more confused than I first thought. You do not have the luxury of choice here.”

Your stomach clenches. Roils and heaves. The dread that settles over you is debilitatingly crushing but you can’t quite stop yourself from looking up at him now, brows drawn in confusion and agony alike. “What do you mean?” It’s barely more than a whisper. 

“What I mean is simple. I own you.” He hisses it, punctuating that statement with an aggressive twist of your nipples to make you shriek. “Until that loan is paid off in full, you belong to me. Your life is in my hands, pet. If I decide you’re going to go stand naked in the town square and present yourself to every man walking by until you find a taker then that is precisely what you are going to do. Is that clear enough for you?” 

You squawk out a frantic, wild sound that might be a ‘yes’ and, to your reeling surprise, he immediately lets up on your poor breasts entirely. Just like that his mood seems to shift back to the usual placid tone and soft smiles, and you violently shudder as he soothes his palms over your aching teats as if to lessen the hurt. You can’t even begin to make sense of it but the relief you feel is staggering, and you force your quaking body to relax into it as much as you can manage. Of course you’d known what he was hiding under that pleasant facade, had seen it peek out on more than one occasion, but this was far beyond what even you had thought him capable. 

Perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised though. Maybe you should have expected it on some level, but you now knew how very fine the line you were walking really was. He could do anything at all to you if the notion struck his fancy and something told you making you sell your body on the streets was only a small drop in the bucket. He was evil and deranged. Cutthroat. You had to play your cards very carefully if you wanted to avoid the worst of it. 

You repeat that to yourself, over and over again in your mind like a mantra when he finally reaches for your pants. It takes everything you have not to scream and kick, spit at him like a wild animal, but you manage, somehow, to just lay there, allowing him to get them pulled down your legs right along with your soft drawers. Left in nothing but your socks and the rumpled up heap of jackets and shirts bunched around your arms, you shyly squeeze your legs together to hide from him. You didn’t want him to see your most intimate spot. To look upon you like a lover would, but you don’t fight it when he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the table. 

You had to play nice. Had to be good for him so he wouldn’t sell you to anyone that could afford to pay the hefty price tag he would no doubt ask for. Just the thought of him taking you makes bile rise in the back of your throat but even in the jittery panic coursing through your system you still recognized exactly how limited your options were. This was the lesser of two evils. You hated it beyond measure, but it was the far more bearable alternative. 

So you hold your breath, head spinning at an alarming rate, when he nudges your knees apart. Let them fall open in a shameless spread that leaves you bared to him and vulnerable. Your face feels like it’s on fire and furious tears sting your eyes, but you just clench your hands into tight, shaking fists. The nails dig in to lance pain through your palms and it helps ground you. Steadies your nerves even when he coos down at you with a saccharine sweetness. 

“And such a pretty pussy too … I admit, I’m rather impressed. I didn’t take you for the sort.”

You adamantly refused to respond to him now, leaving your mouth pursed in a thin line and your head turned away so you could keep your attention locked on the door. You should have shoveled the snow. Should have considered your situation a little more carefully. 

The featherlight brush of Pantalone’s fingertips on your cunt makes you jolt, almost pulls your head back around, but you stay firm on this. Prone and pliant for him as he traces a brief path down your slit before nudging into the lips to feel for your entrance. You wince at the contact, grimacing when he worms one long digit into your body even when he meets resistance, even though your shuddering muscles try to keep him out. The drag of his glove along your inner sleeve pulls a muffled hiss from you but he doesn’t even seem to notice. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Tight too. That will help your value price a great deal. Tell me, poppet. You wouldn’t happen to be a virgin, would you?” 

You don’t much appreciate the note of humor in his voice, the sly inflection that would seem to suggest he found the prospect amusing. Delightful, even. Seething through your teeth at the uncomfortable penetration, you can’t help but squirm with the overwhelming urge to run away. “No.” You practically growl the word. “I’m not, you sick bastard.” 

Chuckling softly, he takes a moment to fuck into you with his finger, soon adding a second to stretch you out, but it does little in the way of good. There was too much tension thrumming through your body; too many aches and pains, and fast pumping adrenaline, and not nearly enough pleasure to be found on his cool digits to draw any amount of wetness out of you. But you keep your legs spread because you know that’s what is expected of you. You don’t protest when he eventually withdraws his fingers and reaches up to flick your shirt back open where you’d tried to pull it closed over your chest to stave off some of the cold. And you just lay there, unmoving save the harsh rise and fall of your labored breaths, when he reaches down to spread open his cloak before working to free himself from his pants. 

You don’t look. You can’t look, your heart painfully wrenching as he shuffles close to line his cock up. The blunt pressure of the head sinking into your slit steals the air from your lungs and you freeze, holding yourself so still it makes the joints scream in protest when he slowly starts to sink into you. Inch by excruciating inch, he bullies his way into your cunt and you choke on a pitiful little sound when your body is forced to grant him entry. It hurts. The smooth, silky texture of his length does nothing at all to ease the discomfort when you were trembling so stiffly and your guts were tight with fear. Pantalone just grunts over top of you though, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your hips tight enough to make bruises bloom under the pressure. 

And finally, an eternity later, he settles against you at long last. 

A wounded groan spills from your mouth as you sensitively twitch on his cock. He was so hot, so blindingly warm inside you, it felt like he was branding you from the inside out. Leaving his mark where no one else would ever be able to see it. You’d never be able to forget the claim he’d made on your body though, with or without his stamp seared into your flesh, and you wheeze, trying very hard not to hyperventilate. Somehow spewing your guts up all over him didn’t seem like it would do you any favors. 

“Oh, that is a tight fit, isn’t it?” He murmurs, allowing himself a moment to just bask in the squeeze of your body. The weak palpitations trying to push him out which only succeed in milking at him. A pleasurable tremor works through his frame, and he reaches up to adjust the position of the glasses on his nose where they’d started to slide forward. “You certainly know how to make a good case for yourself, pet. I admit, I’m suddenly feeling less inclined to sell you for a profit and more partial towards keeping you for my own personal use.” 

Stiffening on the table, you shoot him a quick, wild look before you can stop it, but he just laughs, very softly. 

“Don’t look so surprised. You aren’t nearly as clever as you think.” Loosing a breathy, almost dreamy sigh, Pantalone starts to slowly pull out and you jolt so hard at the gripping drag against your innards that you slam your head back into the wood with a resounding thud. “I had my suspicions when you stopped struggling but you didn’t even have the decency to beg me to stop. Although I do appreciate the cooperation on your part, I still wasn’t entirely convinced you would be worth the trouble. Housing, feeding, upkeep … there are so many different things to consider when one is thinking of taking on the responsibility of a new pet.” 

He pauses, the head of his cock just wedged inside your cunt now. Tipping his face down, he regards the sight of you spread out for him, on your back with your legs curled open around his waist and his rigid length poised to spear back into you. It makes him hum a quiet groan, his usually placid smile growing a little sharper. Hungrier. He looks at you like a finely dressed conqueror about to lay ruin to a yet untouched and fertile land. His for the taking. 

Slowly, he starts to sink in again. “But this sweet little cunt of yours is taking me so well. Even without the proper preparations you still fit me like a glove. Like you were made just for my cock … tell me, darling, will you be a good pet for me?” 

“Y - yes …” You seethe, once more screwing your eyes shut so you won’t have to look at him. Flawless and beautiful, and horrible hunching over you. 

There was an end in sight though, if you could just reach out and grasp it. Clutch it to your chest with fervent hysteria and never let it go. He’d already damned you but you were willing to take your salvation wherever you could get it. The mere thought of other men having you like this, all strangers, faces you’ve never seen before; the old and the young, the sick and the drunk, is enough to steel your resolve. If this was to be your fate you would much rather suffer solely at Pantalone’s hands than anyone else’s. 

And he moans, ever so faintly, at your acquiescence. Starts to pump into you a bit quicker, ignoring the way your face pinches in pain and discomfort. “Will you do everything I say, poppet? Will you be a nice and obedient dog for me? Will you call me master?” 

The breathy quality of his voice makes your stomach wrench and threaten to regurgitate all of its contents, but you force yourself to stiltedly nod. “Yes, I will. Anything … m - master.” 

“Such a good, smart girl you are.” He laughs. “Then will you suck his cock for me?” 

You go ramrod stiff, a fresh surge of horror washing over you. It crashes against you like turbulent ocean waves hitting the rocks on a beach, slamming with enough force to slowly chip away at their density over time. You’d forgotten about the masked man. So caught up in your own misery his presence had completely slipped your mind for the last however many minutes, but when you stiffly turn your head, you find him already working to undo the front of his pants. Evidently he did not need to be told twice. 

And, to your lurching horror, you clearly had very little choice in the matter. 

“Wait — that’s not what you said!” You squeak, shooting Pantalone a wide eyed, wild look, but he just purses his lips at you. Coos like he would at a baby. 

“Although I might be willing to keep you for myself that doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t deign to share you from time to time, for my own amusement. Besides, it’s just your mouth. I’m much more concerned with this tight cunt of yours.” 

He groans, low and faltering as his pace starts to pick up more. The dull whap of his clothed hips meeting the fleshy give of your thighs grows louder, more insistent, his cock relentlessly carving out a space within you now. It seems to punch the air out of your lungs and you gasp, bleating helplessly there on the table.

A hand suddenly materializes under your chin and locks around your jaw to yank your head back at an awkward angle. You catch a split second glimpse of the cock bobbing in your face, chest hitching in surprise and distress, and horror at what was happening to you, but it was too late. The masked man angles his pelvis forward and roughly shoves himself into your mouth. You shriek around the intrusion, tears stinging your eyes at the cloying taste of him. Salty and musky, bitter enough to make your skin crawl, but there’s nothing you can do about it. He just keeps your neck pinned down while Pantalone fucks into you even harder, his moans becoming louder when your body subconsciously squeezes him every time you writhe.

It was like you were being stretched between two equally unrelenting forces and even trying to twist away does nothing to make it better. Your breasts just jostle violently with each thrust from the man positioned between your legs and your throat constricts painfully when the masked stranger tries to shove his length straight down your gullet. Coughing and sputtering, struggling just to breathe, you force yourself to go still again and just accept what was happening on the slim chance that would make it somehow more tolerable. 

But of course it doesn’t. The unknown Fatuus doesn’t stop trying until your face is covered in a slimy, bubbling sheen of spittle and saliva that slowly runs back into your hair. Finally, after many attempts that have left your throat bruised and raw, he at last manages to sink himself halfway into the squeezing passage and you violently jerk when you realize you can’t breathe. A tiny, muffled noise manages to escape your constricting airway, but he just groans in response and shudders as if it felt good. You quickly become lightheaded, stomach heaving as if to finally throw up but — he suddenly pulls out to leave you desperately gasping and choking in the aftermath. 

Weakly, you try to lift your head with the intention of sending Pantalone an imploring look but the other man just palms the top of your skull and manually turns you back towards his cock again. Not having a choice, you pitifully roll your eyes up to look at him instead even as you take his length back into your mouth. You can see him snarling under his mask from this angle, his lips pulled back in a sneer of concentration while he thrusts towards the back of your aching throat to drag out more sticky sheets of drool that run down your chin in messy clumps. 

It is not this degradation that finally breaks you, nor is it the fact Pantalone is using you like a mere toy for him to get off on. What eventually does it is the sticky wet click you just manage to make out over all the other lurid sounds buzzing around you, and you dully realize it’s coming from between your legs. Your cunt was slicking for him. Against your will, defying all logic and reason, your body was responding to this cruel treatment. That horrifies you perhaps more than anything else and, letting out a wailing sob, you let the tears spill out to track hot, stinging paths down your burning face. 

The masked man clicks his tongue as if disgusted to see you crying like this, and he finally lets up his hold on your jaw. Allowing your head to loll bonelessly on the table, you just lay there while he reaches down to grab a pinching handful of your swaying breast, squeezing it so hard you groan in response. 

Between your spread legs, Pantalone issues a quiet, insidious chuckle. “Poor thing. You already look so tired … not to worry though. I’m sure a nice warm bath back at the palace will have you back to sorts quickly enough.” 

You hiccup at the thought, distantly realizing how cold you were. Yes, this was certainly the best outcome you could have hoped for. Pantalone would take care of you. Feed you. Keep you warm and clean, and comfortable so long as you were obedient. A nice pet for him to play with whenever the mood struck. It wasn’t exactly the life you’d dreamed of, but at least it was something. 

It wasn’t the prosperous lands of opportunity in Liyue you’d longed for as a child when your father was still alive, but at least it was a marginally better life than the one you currently had. 

The toll it would have on your body and mind alike seemed a reasonable price to pay for your freedom from debt. After all, what other choice did you even have?

⭐

Crossposted: here

[httpsobi]

YOU...YOU CAN DO THAT? “a green lantern x team"

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, they/them (gender neutral) reader addressed as green lantern (the creative streak continues), no beta we die like jason todd, canon-typical violence (not heavily detailed).

A/N + for @noom147 , thank you for your request! i lost the ask (AGAIN) because i can't post from where i am rn and tried to be smart about it (AGAINN) so yeah. i hope you enjoy it despite the fact that it was written at the ass crack of dawn and i was DEFINITELY not falling asleep ❤️. anyways enough yapping, ENJOYYYYY.

REQUEST + "TBA"

ROB & KF What's worse than one idiot walking into the headquarters of a cult that's known for offering human sacrifices to their weird leader?

Two idiots walking into the headquarters of a cult that's known for offering human sacrifices to their weird leader.

And for turning his/her/their back on the two idiots for��just 10 seconds- Green Lantern might just be the biggest idiot of all.

He/she/they are sprinting down the dingy halls of the old temple, deaf to all other sounds other than the weird speech some old guy is giving (and their raging heartbeat).

The speech started off as nothing more than a faint murmur, like your next-door neighbour’s TV that you can just make out; but as he/she/they dash towards the room at the end of the hall (shoving their way through whatever random members straggle along the halls) it's getting louder and louder.

Behind the closed door, an undercover Robin and Kid Flash are trapped inside a glass box (that looks nothing short of a Jigsaw trap), staring at the old man who’s back is turned to them.

"But do not fret." The man sighs wistfully, turning on his heels to approach the glass box currently holding Robin and Kid Flash. He takes a second to take them in, before he’s turning to the console on his right and pressing a button.

With a soft click, water starts rushing up from the cracks of the floor under their feet.

"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

Yet before Robin and Kid Flash can even start to panic, the doors are swinging open, and a (extremely dishevelled) undercover Green Lantern is marching towards the cultists with a glowing bat in their hands.

The cultist turns around, nearly jumping out of his skin at the teenager with the glowing bat being swung over his/her/their shoulder.

"How did you-!"

Thunk!

The pair blink at the heaving Green Lantern.

He/she/they are too busy staring down at the unconscious man to make sure he stays down, all while catching his/her/their breath. The energy used to construct the bat slowly starts to disintegrate in his/her/their hands.

KF whistles, and that seems to get him/her/them out of his/her/their trance and moving up to the console to press a couple buttons.

A couple clicks later, and the water starts draining itself, and the ceiling of the box lifts open, and that's all it takes for Green Lantern to hunch over the console to continue catching his/her/their breath.

"Now we know if we ever need a batter-" Robin starts.

"Shut the fuck up." He/she/they wheeze, glaring at the two boys who've finally made their way out the box.

"I... have never... in my life... ever ran that fast... all... because of you... idiots."

Kid Flash blinks at them. "...At least you have a great swing."

"Shut it."

AQ, MG & SUP "M'gann!"

Green Lantern can hear Superboy's voice echo across the warehouse, and the worry in his call is enough to send him/her/them flying towards them, noting the heat radiating from their side of the warehouse as he/she/they approach.

"Is she okay?" Green Lantern yells, dropping down from the air to meet them.

Miss Martian's out cold in Superboy's arms, sweat lining her brow and she's frowning even in her unconscious state. Aqualad's not doing much better either, sat against the wall and his breathing's laboured as he looks up at him/her/them with an unfocused look.

"Miss Martian and I are at our limits- the heat is far too much for us." He mutters as Green Lantern's pulling him to his feet.

"I can't blame you- why is it so hot here anyway?"

There's a sudden sound of metal, and the two standing members are whipping around to stare at a dishevelled, angry mobster who's staring them down with a wide grin.

In his hands, is possible the largest flamethrower he/she/they have ever seen.

"That'll do it."

He's got them cornered, and with one member down and their leader following suit, there's not much they can do.

"I got this." Superboy growls, about to set Miss Martian down before Green Lantern's taking a step away from the group and towards the mobster.

"Screw that- get behind me!"

Green Lantern is bracing him/her/themselves, his/her/their right fist extended and his/her/their left hand at their wrist to support his/her/their arm up as the crazed gangster cocks the oversized flamethrower onto his hip.

He/she/they can see the coil in the barrel of the flamethrower burn a bright orange just before-

...

There's a horrible smell of burnt metal and the sudden silence in the warehouse, and by the large cloud of blackened smoke, the man drops his weapon with a satisfied hum.

But just as he's about to turn around, the smoke clears, and his smile drops.

A green bubble surrounds the four teens, and he can just make out Green Lantern's smirk past the blinding glow of his/her/their ring.

ART

"Crap." Artemis mumbles to herself, looking over her shoulder to her suddenly empty quiver.

Damn-it, she could've sworn she still had at least 5 more left-

She yelps as a large crystal shard lands a hair past her ear, and she's frantically ducking down and crawling towards a nearby truck.

Reaching a hand to her in-ear, she's finds herself with no choice but to call for help.

"I need-!"

Artemis finds herself blinking at Green Lantern, who's staring back at her from where he/she/they are floating in the air.

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"Was passing through the area when I heard reports of Icicle Jr attacking. Figured I'd check it out." Green Lantern shrugs. "Need help?"

"Something like that." She sighs. "I'm out of arrows."

Green Lantern tilts his/her/their head at her.

"You're out? Already?"

"Yeah." Artemis grumbles from where she's crouched, "I could've sworn I had more-"

"Don't worry, I got this." Green Lantern smiles brightly, offering her a thumbs up.

...

"Don't tell me you chickened out already!" Icicle Jr. laughs, making his way down the now empty street. "I was just starting to have fun."

"Hey you!"

Icicle Jr whips around, immediately throwing out a shard that Green Lantern blocks easily with an easy wall construct. As he/she/they drop the construct and lets the ice crash to the floor, the two stare each other down for a moment.

"Who the hell are you?" The criminal frowns, tilting his head at the flying teen. "Ain't never seen you 'round here before. Didn't realise even the Lanterns have a sidekick."

He/she/they smile at him, but it's not the cheery, light-hearted smile that Artemis got.

No, it's a smile that has her shivering slightly from where she's hiding- the customer service smile that a cashier gives when they're a second away from jumping across the counter and bash someone's head in.

Artemis is only proving right when his/her/their ring starts to glow, and she watches as what looks like a literal (not actually- it's still made from energy) bazooka assembles in his/her/their hands. Its weight is heavy, evident by the fact that they drop slightly in the air as they place it over their shoulder, and its clear even Icicle Jr. is unsettled.

"Because they don't have a sidekick." He/she/they explain with that creepy smile still painted on their face.

"I'm just the cool one."

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

[who-is-muses]

Important Canon Divergence Facts About the Lanterns

[ a quick reference of what's different in my portrayals and what other muses might know to help the Lantern mutuals- and anyone else that might be interested in some rainbow bitches <3 ]

Lady Bleez Yennick

First and foremost, fuck you DC I'm giving her a full name. If she's supposed to be the daughter of a powerful lord and lady and a carrier of the former's royal bloodline, she ought to have a family name. It also makes her more of a character than a plot device.

Bleez is a lesbian (and asexual.) Rankorr is very important to her- but not in any romantic fashion. She finds it difficult to put a label on what they are, and thus vehemently refuses to do so. Guy is a similar story- only she's much more willing to use words like "hate" and "bastard" for him.

Even if she wanted to visit her planet of origin, Havania has long since exiled her and writ her from her royal family's records. As far as the history books are concerned, Bleez was a lowly slave that was sold off to the Sinestro Corps by the Yennick family to bargain for their planet’s safety.

After her battle with Fatality, Bleez developed a stronger resistance to her ring’s influence. Though she is no less filled with rage, Yrra's efforts inadvertently helped Bleez gain more control over it, able to focus it and even learning to create simple constructs. (On the flip side, their encounter restored a lot of Yrra's mind from her ring’s control, but that'll wait to be elaborated on when I add her.)

Her unique Red Lantern power is that she can drain energy off other living things to recharge her own ring. It is possible for a source to charge her willingly, but most often is achieved by biting or otherwise injuring a target and ingesting their blood.

Saint Bro'Dee Walker

He didn't succeed in saving his home planet in my canon. He tried to climb Mt. Helios and lost his family in the process, but was forced back down when traffickers invaded Astonia to abduct the people en masse, knowing "limited" species like theirs sell for more. Bro’Dee was among those taken, and did his best to protect his people while they were all held prisoner on board. (To this day, he isn't certain how long he was held captive.) Ultimately the ship was downed by a combination of attacking Red Lanterns and Mogo’s influence as they passed by, Bro'Dee rallying the survivors of the ensuing crash and helping them to overpower their captives and flee into the jungles. After making sure his people were settled enough, Bro'Dee followed Mogo’s urging to climb yet another mountain where he then received his ring.

There are only a few thousand Astonians left alive. They're not a common species, but not utterly unknown either.

Bro'Dee is from a monosexual species with a much more fluid sense of gender than humans. He isn't male or female, and identifies somewhere in the middle of feminine and masculine- but rarely objects to being called a "man" or anything like that.

I abide by the rule that Blue Lanterns need a Green to do things like constructs and advanced healing (including the rejuvenation of stars thing), but their rings shouldn't be nearly as useless on their own. Bro’Dee by himself is still able to fire energy blasts, heal minor injuries and keep people off the brink of death, create force fields and protective bubbles, and manipulate energy to push or pull things (including people.)

Besides the abilities afforded to him by his ring, Bro'Dee being an Astonian means he can lift things several times his own weight, breathe underwater, travel great distances without requiring a break, and has an innate tele-empathic sense. He respectfully keeps this latter ability significantly under control, but still has a sense for how others are feeling beyond simple empathy.

Also the markings on his face + body glow different colors depending on stimulation (but are much fainter than the light given off by his uniform so they're very easy to miss.)

Salaak tel Ouro

Like Bleez, fuck you DC he gets a full name.

Also like Bleez, he was exiled from his planet of origin- only Salaak was erased entirely, no official records of his existence remaining. Regardless of his actions as a Lantern, he's considered a criminal on Slyggia for defying the societal caste structure and thus breaking a large number of laws.

Salaak was born into the lowest social class, and thus had a future with no education and his occupation predetermined. He was nevertheless drawn to more intellectual matters- technology in particular- and repeatedly disobeyed authority figures to teach himself, discovering a seemingly innate talent for robotics and engineering. He was ultimately exiled as a young teenager to a habitable exoplanet in the space sector with nothing to protect himself. Ganthet himself recruited Salaak into the Green Lantern Corps there on that lonely junkyard planet, finding him attempting to construct a ship from the scrap and wreckages strewn about. It's extremely unlikely any muses would know this full story, but may have put some pieces together.

Slyggians and Korugarans were Space Sector neighbors, and frequently interacted resulting in a strong but (usually) civil rivalry between them before Korugar's sector became off limits to outsiders. Because of this, Salaak was imbued with a dislike for Korugarans, leading him to clash often with Sinestro throughout the entire time they were both Green Lanterns. Though Salaak has since unlearned this baseless prejudice, he maintains a hatred for Thaal which outshines much of his fellow senior Lanterns.

He is extremely loyal to John as Corps Leader, and admires him greatly- but still struggles with the after effects of the original Guardians of the Universe's betrayal. Though he has the utmost faith in John- holding him in high regard before there was even a question of a Corps Leader- Salaak worries that his loyalty to a figurehead may someday again blind him from his loyalty to the Corps as a whole.

Thaal Sinestro

I don't care what nu52 says, his eyes were NOT originally like that. Every other Korugaran had whites in their eyes and a range of iris colors. Thaal's were originally teal, but were permanently changed while captured in the Central Battery with Parallax.

Also he has the white streak in his hair permanently after containing Parallax for so long.

The vast majority of Sinestro Corps members that survived the destruction of Ranx/War World are loyal to Soranik now. The only Lanterns Thaal still has as back up are Arkillo, Dez Trevius, Lyssa Drak, Rigen Kale, Slushh, and Smithwick. All others have been killed, and any rings that are dispatched are not Thaal's doing (unless stated otherwise.)

This isn't something any muse not within his circle would know, but Thaal was born and raised in a small rural town. What any muse could notice, however, is that he has a marginally different accent than the other famous Korugarans.

Realizing now it would've been quicker to just preface that other muses wouldn't know a lot of the points for Thaal, and this is another one djdjdjs. He has a number of health problems that he keeps tight under wraps, only his inner circle of Lanterns (and Hal for some if we're being real) are aware of the extent of. That being said, muses may certainly notice the effects of these issues such as him keeping his eyes closed for extended periods, his back and/or left shoulder pop-snap-crackling, putting his weight on his right leg more, etc.

Again, very private information, but he was in a relationship with both Abin Sur as well as marrying Arin. Everyone was aware of it- Abin purposefully introducing Thaal to Arin- though the siblings kept their respective relationships with him independent of each other. Thaal believes to his core that they both djed hating him, and will likely never be convinced otherwise, but is nevertheless very touchy about their memories.

[galaxythreads]

Hello! I’ve liked your fics for a long time, and was wondering if you would write something with fem- presenting Loki? There are some gender-fluid Loki fics on ao3, but I Need More To Live. I would write one, but I wouldn’t ever finish it.

I really want Loki to join the avengers in 2012 so that the other stuff doesn’t happen. sometimes I want Loki and Natasha to make fun of the rest of the avengers.

Idk I just really like the idea that Loki and Natasha would be friends. Or Loki and Wanda. (Except for all of the aforementioned characters got done so dirty by MCU. Isn’t that like a trope? Kill off the girl so the guy has a motivation to defeat the bad guy? Like from Green Lantern or something?

And Loki and Wanda got rewritten.). Whatever. I’m PERFECTLY OKAY! *eye twitches*

That kind of turned into a rant. Sorry.

Here are more of my headcanons, because I’d rather dm someone on tumblr instead of actually making a post on my blog. I’m weird.

-Loki was friends with Tchaikovsky and Mozart and Shakespeare. Maybe even Paganini, or like Ada Lovelace. Or Albert Einstein. Basically a lot of historical figures and also musicians from the 1980s.

-Loki is an honorary gay, because he’s an alien and aliens don’t have human concepts of gender and sexuality. But also you saw that 🏳️‍🌈hand flip🏳️‍🌈 he did in the 1602 episode. I mean, he was just being so gay in that 1602 episode. It was beautiful.

-Loki is a sad little boi. 🥺🥺

-Loki is a good little boi who got did dirty by MCU and Odin. (🥺🥺)

-Loki isn’t always a boy.🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️(unfortunately no gender-fluid flag emojis so 💕🤍💜🖤💙)

-Loki knows all the languages.

-Loki would watch anime and Kdramas if HE WASN’T DEAD.

-Loki is a theater kid.

-Loki is cat

-Loki knows how to play ALL the instruments. He likes cello the best though. Also he has perfect pitch.

-Loki needs therapy. Like two blue whales worth of therapy.

-If Tony and Loki ever had a long conversation, they would figure out how to solve world hunger and climate change and overpopulation AND THEIR MOTHERS. (It doesn’t make sense but just roll with it)

-Loki is a Major Fucking Nerd About Everything.

-Loki likes calculus as a hobby.

-Loki is, (un?)fortunately, a British stereotype.

-Loki ships appledash and narusasu.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. Bye, and thanks for letting me dump headcanons on you.

Hi! Thank you so much for sharing all of these with me, it's so fun to see other people's headcanons about Loki and their excitement about his character. I love discussing this blorbo and cracking him open like an onion to peal away layers of trauma and reveal the nerd beneath.

Lol, the amount of times I've thought about doing an MCU rewrite post a1 to fix everything is insane. If I did do this, I'd actually probably start at civil war, because personally, I feel like everything was (generally) actually okay and enjoyable until infinity war. Civil war is just a good place to kick around the fix-its because everything is such a mess.

As far as your request goes, it might surprise you, but you're actually NOT the first person to approach me about a genderfluid, fem-presenting Loki. More like the....4th? or maybe 5th? Idk. I've definitely been approached by multiple people over the years about this. Firstly, thank you for trusting me with your idea and your headcanons, I'm humbled and honored that you would approach me about this because you believed I would be able to write the story in a way that you would find meaningful and enjoyable <3

Second - I really just don't know. My first inclination is to say no, not because I'm not interested or don't care, but mostly because I'm so busy right now I really don't know when I'll be able to get to the story. Plus, I'm really not sure how to go about this. I'd need to figure out what direction I wanted to take the story, because Loki being genderfluid wouldn't change that much except their outward appearance. Loki + genderfluid + Natasha friendship is an amazing concept, but it's not a...plot, if that makes sense? "Fixing" a1 could be 50,000,000 separate things, and if it goes out as a fix-it for mcu, that would be an enormous project. Easily 200k-400k+, which would take me like...uh 1-3 years to write.

Loki being genderfluid IS something I've thought about just adding to my fics in general now (i'm really not sure, because I love cis male Loki, and I know it's canon that he's genderfluid, but I kind of disregard most things from the series anyway?) but Idk?

+ and this is just a personal one for me, but I don't know how to include Loki being genderfluid as a major part of the plot/story right now. Like, for example, I've been in the process of dumping all of my religious lgbtq+ trauma on peter parker in a (massive) one-shot that revolves around Peter learning to accept himself as being gay, but the point of the story is that Peter doesn't accept himself at first and the conclusion is when he does. (I don't know if I'm ever going to share or finish that fic by the way, so don't look for it) I don't know how to take the concept of this story, turn it into a fix-it for Avengers 1 with Natasha, and have a meaningful story about being genderfluid at the same time?

Like to me there's two different ways to go about lgbtq+ stories: a story about being gay that is intended to talk about lgbtq+ experiences and focus heavily on that, vs a story where the character is lgbtq+ and it's just part of their character and not something we spend a lot of time talking about because we don't need to. The story isn't about them being lgbtq+ specifically, it's about the character. Recently, a lot more media has started doing the latter, which is really, really nice because I don't feel like being lgbtq+ has to be justified every 20 lines.

The story I'm writing about Peter Parker is the former. It's about being gay. The entire story revolves around it. What I can tell from what you're saying is that you want something where Loki just IS genderfluid, but it's not something we spend a whole lot of time discussing because the story isn't ABOUT being genderfluid, it's about fixing mcu with genderfluid Loki as the main character, if I'm understanding this correctly? Which is fine and I absolutely support it because there is nothing wrong with writing genderfluid Loki and I wholeheartedly support those authors.

So i guess to shorten this - because this isn't just like a ~5-15k one-shot (which are about the only length of requests I can successfully complete right now), as respectfully as I can, I'm going to have to lovingly turn you down. I'm not saying no, I'll never write about genderfluid Loki, because I'm like 90% sure I will eventually, but I just don't know about a fix-it for MCU from the first Avengers. One suggestion I have is maybe, if you really really need to see this come to fruition, is to just write a bunch of one-shots that are interconnected based on each of your headcanons and then publish it as an interconnected series, not so much a full length novel like I would write. I can easily see this being a really enjoyable series. Best of luck

~galaxy <3

[dcu-rarepair]

Day 4 Gifts

Eight fantastic Gifts have been released for Day Four! Head to the Collection to check them out, and view the Release Schedule to see what’s in store!

We also have a handy Commenting Guide to help our Giftees with showing their Giftors some love. And now, here’s today’s works: 

put my lips to something by anonymous for boyswonder

Omegaverse AU, Sex Pollen Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply Dick Grayson/Kaldur'ahm | Jackson Hyde Dick and Kaldur are on a simple mission to investigate some strange occurrence off the coast of Happy Harbor. It should be a simple little mission to retrieve some data, perhaps they could banter a little, maybe Dick could summon the courage to ask Kaldur on another date. They may be biting off more than they can chew.

Falling in Love in a Stolen Corvette by anonymous for SasheneSkywalker

Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings Apply Tim Drake/Roy Harper/Jason Todd Dick sees Jason fall to the enemy, Batman is certain his second son is dead. But without a body Arsenal refuses to believe them. Tim knows his best bet at rescuing Jason lies with Roy Harper. Tim convinces Roy to take him on the road trip to chase down an alien ship and rescue the man they both love.

the animosity of dandelions by anonymous for Nightwang

Explicit | Rape/Non-Con Stephanie Brown/Pamela Isley Vigilantism has rules. Rule number one: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Prepare for the worst. Rule number two: If a situation looks too good to be true, it is. Don't trust it. Steph finds herself backed into a corner with no way out, but she's not going down without a fight.

Wait That's Not What Omega Beams are Supposed to do, Is It??? by anonymous for somagni

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply John Constantine/Clark Kent "They weren't expecting me. They actually set up a barrier so that I wouldn't notice them, except..." "'cept, just their rotten luck, it was across the street from you and your mates," John said. "And, when they spotted great old Man of Steel, their 'amateur magician' panicked, and hit you with a - what did he call it?" Superman looked uncomfortable, eyes flickering away. "I, uh... I think he was trying to replicate Darkseid's powers. Specifically, his 'Omega Beams'." "Your amateur magician was a fucking moron," John said, because what kind of idiotic human tried to summon the power of a New God? "Yeah, well, he certainly hit me with an omega beam." Superman's cheeks were pink, pretty and rosey. Kryptonians don't have a secondary gender dynamic, and neither does Clark... Until now.

Ceasefire by anonymous for forestgreen

Vikings AU Explicit | No Archive Warnings Apply Apollo/Midnighter/Jason Todd Their bond is something forged in fiercer flames.

Tara and Joseph by anonymous for lovesickseraph

Art | General Audience | No Archive Warnings Apply Tara Markov/Joseph Wilson Sweethearts enjoying their date in civvies.

You're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece by anonymous for syrennetim

First Date Teen and Up | No Archive Warnings Apply Hal Jordon (Green Lantern)/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Clark sends another text. Clark: It’s a date :) Hal drops the phone. or Hal and Clark finally finish their date from legend of the green flame, someone else might be tagging along this time

And The World Keeps Spinning by anonymous for BearlyWriting

Mature | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Mia Dearden/Jason Todd Everyone keeps assuring her that the Red Hood is as crazy and out of control as any other murdering creep in a costume; that she was lucky to survive. Some of them, like Batman and Nightwing, actually know the guy. And they have a lot of experience. Way more than her. They know what they’re talking about. It’s just… She is lucky she got away. Really lucky. Despite her training, Red Hood had captured her as easily as picking up his dry cleaning. If he’d really wanted to hurt her, it would have been all too easy. The only conclusion is that he let her go. It takes three days to accept that truth. After that… well, the floodgates have been thrown open. Everything that’s happened, all the shit she’s been through in her life… it's scary how easily she can picture going the other way, letting the anger and bitterness and bone-deep injustice lead her down a more violent path of vengeance and righteous fury.

[tired-inyxe]

WIP - Batfam/Dc Tag Masterlist

This is ridiculously long so m putting it under cut, m gonna add more (YES MORE. THERES A LOTTA CHARACTERS OK???) tags when I feel like it but I wanna finalize my main master post later

#bat anatomy -batfam masterpost (and everything else dc)

#going batty -batfam analysis (typically angry)

#mailing pipe bombs -enraged at dc's writers

#honey im taking the kids -stuff about dc's poor treatment of the batkids (they're mine now fuck u)

#the bat -abt batman in all its forms (persona not a specific character)

#the bird -abt robin in all its forms (ditto)

#the shadows -abt every other persona in all their forms(because normal ppl dont know em)

#bernards pegboard -crack headcanons

#sandbox -headcanons

#my story now -my personal batfam timeline/story (because dc sucks at writing

#shoved in mahogany 6 feet under -wasted potential of any/all characters

#revived wings -my view of a bat characters true potential

#case files -panels/pages that I use for evidence abt canon

#bamboozled -fun canon comic panels that make me laugh

#goth cake -batfam art

#dysfunctional worms -batfam writing

#cave screeches -rambles, usually angry

#bats and birds -any and all posts that contain any of em

#batcape -anything Bruce

#disco girl -anything Dick

#pride and prejudice -anything Jason

#skateboards and spite -anything Tim

#kittens and knives -anything Damian

#dayshift -anything Duke

#potato waffles -anything Steph

#ballet shoes -anything Cass

#spot of tea -anything Alfred

#all seeing snark -anything Babs

#handmade guns and gender envy -anything Harper

#jaded red -anything Kate

#lack the worms dc edition -any character i dont know/care about enough to make a custom tag for (m sorry)

#revolving door -Rogues gallery

#REFORM THE DAMN JUSTICE SYSTEM YOU BILLIONAIRE -me complaining about dc's inability to make Bruce use his fuckin money and power to change the city, also any arkham/blackgate rants

#i stabbed him hes dead -anything joker

#bats and hounds -anything Harley

#eco friendly -anything Ivy

#shot him he's dead too -anything Black Mask

#strawman argument -anything Scarecrow

#your wife is dead -anything Mr Freeze (sorry not sorry)

#bipolar ableism but gay -anything Harvey

#scared of seals -anything Penguin

#neon green twink -anything Riddler

#broke b's spine -anything Bane

#leather catgirl -anything Selina

#back in the cell -every other rogue I don't care about

#god forbid a woman have hobbies -anything Thalia

#withering gamer -anything Ra's

#magic mountain dew -Lazarus pit

#assassin gamers -League of Assasins

#competent idiots -Justice League

#its just an s -anything Clark

#unbreakable porcelain -anything Diana

#retired at the speed of light -anything Barry

#zooming with the big leagues now -anything Wally

#h in adhd -anything the Flash persona

#neon green with a ring -anything Hal

#weak to yellow -anything Green lantern persona

#blowing bubbles -anything Arthur

#he stole the braincell -anything Jhon (theres an accent mark somewhere in there ill fix it later)

#batson but not yet adopted -anything Billy

#cigarette ash -anything Constantine

#fics favorite magician -anything Zatanna

#hijacked the mainframe -anything Cyborg

#signature chili -anything Ollie

#screech metal -anything Black Canary

#under the roundtable -everyone else in the Justice League

#every band eventually -og Teen Titans (they broke up)

#saltwater bubble blower -anything Garth

#tectonic shifter -anything Terra

#red threads and all -anything Red X

#i exploded him yw -anything Slade

#stronger than steel -anything Donna (might change)

#shapeshifting greenbean -anything Gar

#goth girls inspiration -anything Raven

#international incidents the team -Young Justice

#test tube baby -Anything Kon

#meep meep -anything Bart

#girlbossed zeus -anything Cassie

#rags to the grave -anything Greta

#arrows notched red -anything Cissie

#mosh pit winner -anything Anita

#panic at the disco -anything Slobo

again, theres still more. dc is an 80 year long series theres so many guys. also not sold on some of these so various tags may be subject to change

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

A Long, Unnecessary Love Letter to Comic Books

I’ve gotten way the fuck into comics lately, ranging from weird titles from publishers I’m pretty sure are defunct (Solar, Man of the Atom follows the ongoing adventures of an energy being whose origin story includes accidentally destroying his own timeline) to unsettling little horror tales (Gaiman’s Likely Stories disturbed me to the point of feeling physically ill once or twice) to big, bombastic superhero fair (just give me anything with Batman). It’s particularly this last category that I want to focus on, because it was while reading the 2018-onwards run of Justice League that I realised why I’ve been getting so into comics at the moment. They’re currently filling the niche that film used to fill.

You see, folks, I have a little problem when I go and see most films nowadays. The problem is very simple. While I still enjoy movies, that enjoyment is somewhat marred by the fact that NINETY PERCENT OF THE TIME I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING TO HAPPEN! I’m a progressive chap- I’m a commie, a sometime-advocate for fat acceptance (obvs) and I’m viscerally disgusted every time I hear about some fresh injustice perpetrated against non-white ethnic groups by the racist-as-shit American legal system. I’d never call myself a feminist, but I accept that feminism has a point in terms of its broad complaints and aims (I part company from both rad and third wave on a fair number of specifics, but that’s probably just because of my nine foot musical penis). And yet, as most of you already know from my previous spates of bitching and moaning, media wokeness winds me up. It’s not just that it’s obviously insincere and designed to curry favour with an imaginary demographic of humourless wankers- it’s that it also hobbles any story’s ability to surprise or engage meaningfully with its own fictional universe. Give me a list of characters and tell me nothing about them besides skin colour, age and gender, and I’ll tell you who’s going to live, who’s going to die, who’ll be permitted a redemption arc, and who’ll turn out to be a ‘twist’ villain (and I use the term ‘twist’ with heavy-duty sarcasm marks). It’s cloying, constrictive and a death sentence for any kind of creativity. It’s gotten so bad that, whenever a movie does manage to pleasantly surprise me, I have to fight back tears of fucking gratitude. Progressive values are all well and good- I actively subscribe to them myself every time I go out and assassinate a member of the fucking Tory party- but modern movies and telly don’t operate from a place of deeply-held progressive values (or any values). The mainstream media’s ‘wokeness’ is just a tired list of boring tropes that cowardly, talentless screenwriters cling to lest creating something original engender cancellation.

And so, we come to comic books (and on comic books, if they have General Zod in them. Kneel before Zod? I certainly fucking will!). I was about type the words ‘even mainstream comic books are great’ but then I started laughing like the Joker watching a snuff movie, because that would have been an idiotic sentence. You see, while Superhero comics are ‘mainstream’ in the sense that they’re the thing people most associate with the medium, they still have a relatively tiny readership. In fact, I suspect that requiring their audience to know how to read is the main barrier to entry nowadays- it seems like something of a lost art.

The point is that I’ve been reading the ‘Justice/Doom War’ arc in Justice League and I’ve noticed something about it. It has a huge, diverse cast of characters from different ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds, different genders and different belief systems and walks of life… and not even one of them is an insufferable twat defined only by their relative privilege or oppression! To give you an example, Green Lantern John Stewart is a heroic space cop who happens to be black, but the plot never grinds to a halt so he can give us a lecture on race dynamics in modern America. He’s too busy using constructs of solid light to smash the ever-loving crap out of pan-dimensional cosmic monsters. When the plot does slow down to give him time to breathe, we learn more about his conflicted yet complementary history as both a soldier and an architect than we do about his skin colour. I mean, it’s not like it never comes up- the DC universe has some ties to reality and characters do occasionally find themselves on the receiving end of racism, but if it’s not relevant to what’s happening, the story doesn’t bend over backwards to include it. Conversely, Batman is a rich white dude, but the story never feels the need to ‘hold him accountable’. His main arc at the moment is about learning to be a good father figure to a sentient, telepathic starfish who wants to be the next Robin (yeah… the 2018 run is gloriously fucking weird). Hey! Here’s another example! On the surface, Hawkgirl is the epitome of the ‘strong female character’ beloved by modern media: a ferocious, take-no-shit warrior woman with countless lifetimes of carefully-honed experience. But she’s not some bloody sexless, characterless archetype designed as a flag for empowerment rather than a person: she’s a fully-developed character. She has complex internal motivations; she has romantic feelings for Martian Manhunter; she experiences grief and loss and is changed by them; she makes mistakes that she then has to triumph over. She doesn’t get to win just because she’s the first person on hand with a clitoris- she actually has to work and go through a character arc. Surprising and sometimes unpleasant things happen to her, making her a sympathetic and interesting character who I actually want to see triumph.

I could go on… and on… and on… and on… pretty much forever. I could probably write an entire essay just on how Lex Luthor uses his wealth for selfish ends even while purporting to represent a higher cause while Batman embodies an idealised version of how those with power and money should use it for the greater good. I could talk about how Superman is both effectively an immigrant and the most endearingly Rockwellian slice of walking Americana one can imagine. I could write fucking books on what the character of Perpetua says about the modern world’s complex relationship with faith and fanaticism and where the line is drawn.

But the real point is that I don’t know what’s going to happen next! Character who would never be allowed to triumph under their own power in movies succeed. Characters who would never be allowed to fail in movies get broken by horrible events and circumstances. Arcs are never what I expect them to be about, but always make sense when I look back and consider what I know about the character’s personality. It’s wonderfully refreshing in a way we just don’t get to see much nowadays… and I started to wonder why comics are so much better than everything else going on at the moment.

I was recently reading an Editorial in Metal Hurlant (basically the French 2000AD- a comic anthology of sci-fi and horror tales published on a monthly basis). The top brass were bemoaning the niche-ness of the comic book medium, asserting that comics should be promoted in bookstores and literary circles; that there should be a widespread push for them to reach a readership and audience that traditionally don’t engage with pulp culture (my term, not theirs). And what I realised is that this would be a terrible, terrible idea- because the main reason comics are so good is because they’re niche; their small; their disposable. Consider, if you will, the mainstream film industry. A big part of the reason that it mainly produces hot garbage is that it’s too big to take risks. Hollywood (for want of a better catch-all term) has spent its entire life-cycle pursuing larger and larger audiences so it can fund more and more epic blockbusters with bigger names and bigger, bolder FX. It’s a cycle of abuse in which each new generation of films has to outperform the generation before it. Meanwhile, because the audiences have to be so vast, the people making the flicks don’t think of those audiences as individual people with specific interests and ideas and a desire to be challenged and entertained. They think of them, instead, as demographic swathes; undifferentiated and united by broad, base commonalities that each project has to play to. But people aren’t demographics and the movie industry is currently getting a royal drubbing for its decades of ever-increasing contempt-of-the-viwer. Disney in particular is haemorrhaging money because it thought it would be a good idea to make Star Wars and Indiana Jones films and telly shows for a generic set of imagined demographics instead of people who actually like those franchises and are interested in the themes and ideas that go with them. As much as watching Disney fail gives me the warm fuzzies, I have to ask: who in their right mind would wish this fate on comics?

You see, folks, comics do sell plenty of copies- more than enough to justify the fairly modest expense of printing the darned things) but the overall audience for any one title is less than half the audience for any given major film release (I did some research and applied some maths that I won’t bore you with, but the absolute top selling comic books of recent years sold under a quarter million copies overall while an average film from any of the major studios sells around half a million cinema tickets in the US alone- and then there are the DVD and streaming sales on top of that. Notice how the latter number is more than double the former number. Regrettably, data on both films and comics is jealously guarded by vested interests, so I apologise for how ballpark those figures are, mind). Meanwhile the total audience of comics in general is much narrower in certain key respects. Perhaps the most obvious point is this: pretty much everyone who reads comic books is a comic book fan, whereas not everyone who goes to the cinema is a cinephile. But what does that actually mean? Well, for one, it means that comic book readers and writers are more of community- they tend to trust one another more; leaps can be taken that would be considered too chancy when dealing with ‘demographics’. At the same time, however, the writers’ connection to the fans means they have a better sense of when something is going to alienate large sections of their audience or piss people off (something film-makers have proved either bad at or wilfully blind to lately). The result is stories that know what bold ideas they can pursue while also knowing where to draw the line.

I think another reason comics are currently kicking the film industry’s pallid white buttocks in terms of creative merit is that they’re real cheap. Paper on ink is much easier to organise and send forth into the world than a vast audiovisual experience containing hundreds of actors, countless FX and goodness-knows-how-many extras, all put together by an enormous team of people who often never get to meet one another. If I wanted, I could probably write, draw and distribute a limited run of say, fifty comics, for the price of a Payday Loan. I wouldn’t, because it’s not where my talent lies, but the point I’m trying to make is this: companies and distributors are more willing to do interesting things when there’s only pocket change on the line compared to when there’s millions or billions of dollars. It’s why we get comics like Serial Artist (about a dude who claims his paintings are of his murder victims and becomes the centre of a vast government conspiracy) and W0rldtr33 (an ongoing slice of weirdness in which the internet comes to life and starts murdering people). It’s why something comparatively mainstream like Justice League can have an arc about Batman parenting a starfish and why the whole thing becomes Dark Nights: Metal and Death Metal for awhile (the Metal comics are end-of-the-world stuff inspired by- obvs- heavy metal albums… and they’re fucking great). It’s why stuff like Metal Hurlant and 2000AD is given a chance to find readers. So do comics need to be bigger and more widely accepted? Fuck no! The fringe is always where interesting stuff happens and aiming for mainstream acceptability is, it seems to me, a massive trap. The allure of more money and better social status is like one of the bug-zapper lights that draws in the moths and then fries their brains.

But what the fuck is the point of all this rambling? Comics are good- and thank goodness, since a lot of shit isn’t at the moment. There, I got it all down to once sentence, so what was the point of the rest? Well, I suppose there’s a lesson to be learned here. I’m a writer finally starting my career; finally putting work out into the public domain with a real publisher. No, I don’t do comics: I do sci-fi and fantasy books. But the lesson’s still applicable and it’s this: it’s a lot better to be good than popular and sometimes- just sometimes- you really do have to pick between the two.

[antrunner]

C, T and X!!!

BOY OH BOY 😈

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will (be nice)

BATLANTERN. respectfully, what the hell is up with that? i've never seen any chemistry between them beyond thinly veiled irritation and professionalism on a good day. there's obviously moments between them of genuine kindness and respect, but..... hal is a very closed off person, despite what he may display otherwise. he has a small circle of extremely close friends that probably know more about him than his own family. and Bruce is Bruce. it just doesn't really make sense to me and never ever will

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

I have plenty! but i'll narrow it down to a few.

1. Jason Todd is trans. i won't elaborate.

2. 80% of heroes AND villains have autism. there's just too many characters with Behaviors and i love representation. specifically with characters having fixations, stimming, having empathy issues or being bad at reading rooms. ALL of the gotham rogues have some sort of autism/adhd/ocd going on. (as someone with all of those it makes me so happy to see rep!! and often the OCD is portrayed just fine imo. which is rare)

3. lanternfam is just as close-knit as any other "dc family" (hero group). i think that recent comics have really fucked up GL's as a whole. i haven't enjoyed much that's come out in the last 10 or so years for them outside of some little spinoff stuff. (geoff johns...... count your days) but in my own little fantasy world they treat each other like family the same as flashfam batfam arrowfam whatever. like 4 really annoying brothers in a college dorm and the dorm is a giant green planet and college is Not Dying. they genuinely love each other and open up a lot. when simon and jessica join they are welcomed with open arms and instantly get invited to poker night that evening. i think comics (recently) have this weird give and take with love vs. disrespect with the lanterns and like..... they have been through WAY too much to hold even an ounce of animosity towards each other.

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE

BARRY ALLEN‼️‼️‼️🔊🗣 KYLE RAYNER. eddie nygma. koriand'r. jason todd. hal jordan. wally west. donna troy. saint walker.

[calciumcryptid]

I don't talk enough about my Duke Thomas love interest enough, so here are some facts about Diamond Otieno!

She is a professional teen actress, and her little stint as a lantern was seen as her taking a break from the acting world after reports broke she stormed off set. (The press did not capture the moment a red ring flew at her.)

When she returns to Earth, she goes right back to acting. Her fans are wondering what the fuck happened because after being gone news breaks she is going to return on a singular episode of some obscure drama.

Then news breaks she is dating the newest Wayne boy, and everyone is so surprised because of the absolute icon behavior to have a good career, dip, return, and bag one of the richest men in the world.

When she is older, Diamond becomes quite fond of wine and buys her own winery because she loves the drink so much. She is definitely the wine aunt at family gatherings, ready to indulge the younger members in the latest gossip.

Diamond is pansexual, but she never mentions this. In fact, Duke didn't know she was pan until he came to her panicking about their relationship because he is a he but he is also a they (agender Duke supremacy) and Diamond just goes 'It is fine, I don't have a preference either way go be gender non-conforming'.

She has gotten into a legal dispute with Spectrum the company over her team's name also being Spectrum. She won.

Her favorite Green Lantern is Kyle Rayner because they are both artists, and he sometimes helps her escape the other corps because he understands deadlines. It helps that he reminds her of one of her teammates.

Despite not liking the other lanterns besides her team, she does deeply admire Carol Ferris and feels more at home with the Star Sapphires than with the Red Lanterns.

Diamond is older than Duke, but only by one year. It is kind of agreed his canonical age is sixteen, so she would be seventeen.

I imagine she was fifteen when she got her ring.

While Diamond gets along alright with the general Batfam, she gets along best with Cassandra, Stephanie, and Harper.

Diamond was so nervous to meet the We Are Robin gang, because she knew how important they were to Duke and wanted to make a good first impression.

Diamond definitely had one of those temporary pop careers companies try to stick onto child actors, and she gets embarrassed anytime anyone brings it up because she finds the songs she recorded to be bad and her voice average.

I am still working on her teammates, but one is an orange/blue lantern who is an artist and another is a green/yellow lantern who is basically if Sinestro and Hal had a child.

I have no clue what her suit would look like due to her being a teenager so I can't go back wild with the sapphire influences, but I think it looks kind of like the Brave & Bold animated design mixed with Yrra Cynril's outfit with more armor.

She'll probably make it into the Classverse as a Zodian under the Virgo designation.

@insomniac-jay

[naysaltysalmon]

Tagged by @emiliosandozsequence~!

Last song: "A Million Ways to Die" from Billie Bust Up! Favorite color: uhhh teal? Turquoise? Indigo? Seafoam green? Aquamarine? Something like that. Last book: The Gender Binary Is a Big Lie by Lee Wind. Very enlightening book! Loved the diversity of the gender profiles. Last TV show: Arcane: League of Legends, yeah you know it Sweet/spicy/savory: oh gee all of the above?? But I'll say spicy bc I'm always looking for more spice in my life~ Relationship status: I'm now doing the polyamorous thing and I'm dating 2 people simultaneously, wow, unbelievable. I have a nesting partner and another partner I've known for about 2 years across the way. We'll see how long this lasts. So far about three months! Last thing I googled: "jayce and viktor arcane ending desktop background" yes I am that crazy. I've been on the same fucking Tumblr blog since 2012. What did you expect? Current obsession: Still MDZS, after three years. Damn, the NieYao hyperfixation demon won't leave me alone. I'm cool with it tho, we chillin' in that coffin. Currently also Arcane and I'm mustering my energy to write for the Radiant Emperor duology because those books fucked me up more than any non-graphic novels have. Looking forward to: Getting my koi lanterns in the mail to hang up in my room!! I bought them for myself for my birthday/Christmas because I just started a new job and it's been a while since I had money to buy something for myself that didn't need to go toward rent/health stuff. Also looking forward to the end of my group therapy so I'll have more time and energy to do other things, even if I've enjoyed the group a lot!

Tagging anyone who wants to do it, but especially @miricactusito, @tiburme, and @jackshade21 <3 (you can never escape me)

aa!! thank u for tagging me @obedient

last song - the only way from arcane favourite colour - all shades of blue last book - kingdom of ash by sjm & the cinnamon bun bookstore by laurie gilmore (two very different books fshd) last tv show - arcane sweet/spicy/savoury - savory + spicy relationship status - living with my soulmate and my cats :3 last thing i googled - 'light aura' <- this was book research current obsession - reading, a song of ice and fire, throne of glass, arcane, and score music looking forward to - honest to g-d i'm afraid to look forward to anything bc of how bad my luck is

i tag @thinking-in-broken-scenes @loureedpiss @deadhandmaiden @naysaltysalmon @lavendulafaerie @paganmindidnothingwrong @godtrauma @degenderates and anyone else who wants to!!

[httpsobi]

TEAM, MEET... GREEN LANTERN, AT YOUR SERVICE!

WARNINGS/TAGS + sfw, gender neutral o/c or reader insert, vague descriptions of violence, blood and injuries from fights.

A/N + it's a ghost town in here but enjoy!

★ chaotic on the verge of war criminal but also somehow calm, mature paternal figure

★ gets the feral 'i will bite your ankles off' from hal, gets the calmness more from john ♥︎ has probably bit hal at least 5 times when she/he/they were little

★ pretty battle smart, and while she/he/they aren't physically the strongest in the team without her/his/their constructs, has knocked out people with a punch ♥︎ dumb as HELL as a civilian for some reason... like god where does her/his/their intelligence go in daily life

★ best described as the golden retriever/husky friend. smart (sometimes), dramatic, dumb 90% of the time, friendly, clingy

★ most likely part of the og (also known as the cadmus mess) ♥︎ or at least a witness

★ if she/he/they were directly a part of cadmus, probably was going to be grounded for life by the corpse men

★ if she/he/they weren't, probably arrived with the leaguers n' laughed their ass off the WHOLE time the sidekicks got yelled it ♥︎ until they got scolded by john

★ great buddies w/ everyone on the team ♥︎ somehow manages to be good (even great?) buddies with connor ♥︎ i love the idea that connor's this blank n' dead faced dude then there's just someone who's never stopped smiling ♥︎ had a bet w/ robin n' artemis to see how many pranks they could pull on wally before he caught on. it was a tie between all three of them when they all unknowingly set up traps in the same room at the same time n' wally caught all of them

★ calm n collected during fights, usually the one saving kid flash from his demise when he decides to run off like an true idiot ♥︎ often jokes about them being the new speedster n' green lantern duo until they actually turn into them n' she/he/they are just like "... fuck."

★ despite the fact that they are mostly calm, has gone manic n' insane a couple times during battle ♥︎ most likely times: battle w/ amazo, fight with the injustice league, episode 16 in the simulation (i see them going manic as a way to give the rest time to escape, ends up 'dying' to the beams)

★ makes fun of batman like it's her/his/their full time job. they do it like rent's due next month ♥︎ it's a hal jordan thing- started when he would babysit her/him/them n' had no one to cover for him during JLA meetings so she/he/they grew up witness batlantern bicker n' fight like there's no tomorrow

★ the team LOVES listening to her/him/them talk about their time on other planets. ♥︎ m'gann clings onto her/him/them so much when she first joins the team cause like "omg! someone who is spends time off earth!"

★ if she/he/they got a chance to face hal or john during s1e26 when they were under klarion's control, you best believe she/he/they beat his ass n' proceeded to take photos with them unconscious ♥︎ definitely did the rapper poses where they squat with like prayer hands or peace signs over their unconscious bodies ♥︎ if she/he/they had social media for their green lantern persona, you BET they posted it with no context n just "😈🙏🏻🥱🗣" ♥︎ did it w/ p much every other male leaguer too ♥︎ left the women alone cause 'respect our big sexy buff talented women' ♥︎ made robin email the photos to all the leaguers as holiday cards

★ as the team grew n got older, she/he/they either joined nightwing in leading the team or moved on to the justice league w/ zatanna n' rocket ♥︎ probably preferred staying w/ nightwing tho ♥︎ 10/10 is the :D bubbly nice fun mentor who's all joking n' giggles then she/he/they go into missions n' the younger team members are like "what in the hell"

all work n' writing is work of @httpsobi. i ask you please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post on other platforms without my consent.

[do-not-careissa]

OmegaGuy (this one's a long one, like I struggled to get a grasp on what this story wanted to be long, aka the reason it was never finished. It's also pretty disjointed as is, so sorry for that).

Nothing sexual, but obviously does include alpha/beta/Omega designations and the like if that's not your thing

Humans were not the first life forms the Green Lantern Corps had encountered with such wildly varying genders and sexes. The guardians set rules and boundaries for them all the same. Upon inspecting the Earth's inhabitants and their tendencies, it was decided that only alphas and betas were got to be Green Lanterns. Alphas were the heads of societies after all, the most physically fit and the most intimidating, and betas were perfectly bland for what was needed out of a Green Lantern, they had no ruts or heats to slow them down, and where they lacked that additional punch of authority they instead had that much clearer of a head. Omegas, however, they could not be trusted with a ring. For one, with omegas being the child bearers of the race the guardians could not put it to chance that an omega might become incapacitated with child, costing the Corps one of its needed members. Two, omegas suffered from heats, and while alphas might also suffer from ruts, those did not have the same needs or lose of time that a heat required. And on the final note, they were far too weak. Humans themselves had deemed the sex as such, largely relegated to those safe occupations or even just kept at home to care for their young. They did not have the physicality required to be a Lantern, and the less said about their emotional imbalances the better. It had been said that many an omega was hysterical after all, largely in part to a barren womb. If the species' own scientists from centuries prior were saying this, then surely it meant something.

There would be no omegas in the Green Lantern Corps, and that was final.

But the guardians were far more ignorant than they allowed themselves to believe, their arrogance forcing them to miss that not only had they allowed an omega into their ranks, he'd almost been the first of his planet.

* John

John was the first to realize. The newest Earth recruit was barely half a year into his ring when I happened. He was good, John would give him that, brash and loud, but that didn't deter from the work he'd done or the skill he'd shown. But the way he stiffened up, the sudden halting of breath and the frenzied look John's way, Guy knew he'd fucked up.

They'd been sent on a search and rescue mission. Some monarch's daughter had gone missing out in 763 and it was their job to find her. It was meant to be a test for Guy, a way for him to prove he could reign in that loud and proud exterior and exude the calm every Lantern needed from time to time. Based on that coo he'd let out upon finding the girl, and the way he'd scooped her up and held her close, running his cheek over the top of her head, mindful of the antenna there, he'd passed his test with flying colors.

John never bothered to ask about Guy's designation, and neither had Hal thankfully. Quite frankly, John didn't think it was anyone's business. It was bad enough there had been restrictions put in place, forbidding omegas from serving as Green Lanterns, but John and Hal had both accepted that rule. The armed forces back home had the same standing after all, and for how much John hated it, he knew his place didn't involve asking questions, especially not here. So he'd gone under the assumption that Guy was a beta. While he might have the loud attitude and the large form of an alpha, he lacked the ruts that had caused both Hal and John himself to request leave during Guy's short time in the Corps. He was a beta, an outgoing, overconfident beta, but a beta nontheless.

Except he evidently wasn't.

Guy stared back at him, a sharp fear burning in those eyes of his as he held the alien child close, frozen as he awaited John's judgement. On Earth if an omega was found to have infiltrated an alpha space, whether it be law enforcement, military, anything, they weren't safe. At the least they'd be discharged immediately upon return to base, at worse, well, John didn't want to think of the stories he'd heard, the things his fellow soldier had bragged about doing.

While stories like Mulan were heralded as great works and examples of how omegas could move beyond their allotted roles in society, society was far from willing to actually allow such a thing to happen.

John watched Guy for another few seconds, considered the man before him. Guy was an omega, as a Green Lantern he was part of Hal's pack, he'd hidden his designation from his packmates. But did his designation really matter? He'd been chosen to be a Green Lantern, the ring sought him out even with the Guardian's limitations in place, hell he'd almost been chosen first, before even he or Hal. In the few months he'd been a Lantern he'd done some amazing work, he'd proven himself even if it seemed like he didn't believe that himself. So what he wasn't an alpha or beta, what did it really matter? Who was John to decide whether someone was worthy? And based on things they couldn't control? He'd be a liar and a hypocrite.

Taking one last glance at the man before him, to how tender he held the child even as he remained frozen in a crouch, he nodded and moved to help him up. "Let's get back to the Capitol," he said as he gently grabbed Guy's elbow and helped him stand. "We can report in once we're there."

Guy stared back at him, a question in his eyes that he was clearly too scared to ask, his throat constricting as he attempted to remain calm. "And then?" he asked quietly.

"Then we'll talk," John answered, his eyes darting to the girl in Guy's arms. He looked back to Guy, grabbing his shoulder in what he hoped came off as comforting and compassionate, squeezing just slightly as he rumbled deep in his throat. "Just the two of us, okay?"

The nod he received was hesitant and barely there, but it was there nonetheless.

Their trip back to the Capitol was left mostly in silence, only broken by the girl's questions and Guy's answers. It gave John even more time to think, and then more still as they reached the Capitol and handed the girl off to her parents. He spent the time mulling over what to do, how best to help Guy. He'd already made his decision, it wasn't a hard one really. Guy would be staying as a Green Lantern come hell or high water, and John was ready to be there to support him. But an Omega had needs, needs that had no doubt gone ignored during the months he'd spent on Oa. Between the lack of a nest, the lack of sufficient pack bonding, having to hide his omega instincts, it would all be detrimental to Guy's health if not dealt with accordingly. And then there was the matter of heats...

His blood ran cold at the thought, realization dawning as he looked to Guy in shock. In the amount of time Guy had been a Green Lantern most omegas would have had at least one or two heats, some more, but in all that time there'd been nothing. He hadn't asked for leave, hadn't disappeared for the week that a heat would take to be dealt with. Even with the strongest available suppressants he would have had a heat, or would be preparing for one by now. What the hell?

He didn't get a chance to ask, not for a few hours anyway, not with the celebration the monarch wanted to throw for his daughters return, and definitely not with so many strangers around. This was a conversation that needed to happen in private, not surrounded by hundreds of strangers.

It didn't happen until the late hours of the morning, with the two of them drained and worn out, lounging around in the room provided to them for the night. John remained by the wall, watching and waiting for Guy to give him the go ahead. An omega's space was precious and not to be infringed upon. Sure they'd shared space before, but that was under different circumstances, a different understanding. He couldn't help but watch how Guy moved, how not-omega-like he was in his movements and mannerism. How did he become like this? It couldn't be natural, it had to have been learned, trained into him. But why?

"Are you gonna get over here or are you planning on holding up the wall all night?" Guy asked from the bed, throwing himself back onto the mattress. "Thought you wanted to, uh, talk, and shit. Or did you wanna wait til morning?"

It wasn't a normal invitation, but he figured it was the best he was going to get. "Now's good," he said as he dropped down next to Guy, careful to keep a reasonable distance. "Unless you'd prefer we wait."

"No, no, now's good," Guy said, forcing himself up into a seated position. He ran a hand over his face, the strain of the day showing in his features as he stared ahead. It took a moment for him to collect himself, but by the time he was looking at John he'd be hard pressed to believe the man was as tired as he'd just shown.

"I'm not telling anyone," John began, making sure to keep his voice as steady as possible.

"But I'm an omega," Guy said slowly, confirming what they both knew by now. "And that's against GL rules. You're the by the book guy, why should I believe you'll be any different just because of this one thing?"

It was an understandable question, one John would be asking if their positions were reversed. Really, John had nothing to lose by outing him, it wouldn't ruin him or his reputation, if anything it would put him in a good light with the Guardians, if anything he has so much more to lose by not outing him. Who's to say what the consequences of keeping such information secret would be? How far the hammer would fall?

But at the end of it all, could he really live with himself if he told anyone? Sure as hell no.

"I care about you Guy," he said. Guy's reaction was almost immediate, that squinting of the eyes, the stiffening and closing of his posture, like he expected there to be a catch, some kind of payment for John's silence. "I'm not saying that as some alpha looking out for a poor defenseless omega Guy, I'm saying that as someone who cares about you, I'm saying that as your brother in ring, as a friend. I'm not going to tell anyone, but I need you to let me help you."

Guy huffed, his eyes rolling as far back as they could go. "And why the hell would I need your help John? I've been going at it for months on my own just fine, I don't see why I suddenly need your help."

* Kyle

For months Kyle regarded the day he'd become a Green Lantern as the greatest. In the span of one evening he'd gone from a nobody to a hero, had gone from a powerless, random Omega to one of the most powerful individuals in the universe, weilding a power ring just as his heroes had before him. He could have only dreamed of obtaining this power and position before, only hoped and prayed and lamented for the universe to turn in his favor. And it did! He was a Green Lantern, and not only that he was the first Omega Green Lantern, he was making history. He did what no Omega had done before.

Except that wasn't the case was it?

And to make matters just that much worse, for every good thing that ever seemed to happen to him, another tragedy would follow.

It didn't take long to learn of what became of Hal Jordan, to find out that he was the only Green Lantern left, that he was Ganthet's last ditch effort to save the Corps. Being the first omega didn't really mean much when there was no one else around, now was it? And it certainly didn't make it any easier when the realization crossed his mind that the only reason he was here, the only reason he'd been given this chance, was because of so many deaths.

Alex had made it easier to accept that knowledge, and by extension the responsibility that accompanied such a role. "This could all be one misunderstanding," she'd said one night, "but you're the one wearing that ring now, and you're the one that made the decision to be a hero. Are you really going to waste it like this?"

He could still remember her voice, could remember her scent and the feeling of her hands, the love he'd felt for her and the love she'd felt for him back. They'd had their differences, had even separated before he got the ring. Most would say it was for the best, two omegas in a committed monogamous relationship wasn't exactly regarded that highly in the public eye, some going so far as to call it an abomination. But they loved each other and they were finally working through their problems, Kyle was finally growing away from being a whiny pup who wanted her attention without the effort and was becoming a man who could take care of and provide for her.

Unfortunately for him the universe didn't care. In the span of a few hours Alex was ripped away from him, murdered in her own apartment while he was answering cries for help. The image of her body, of her limbs twisted and broken and bent in ways they were never meant to, etched itself into his mind, dragging screams of anguish from him until his throat was raw and ruined.

He was alone, alone and hurting and in so much pain, and there was no one to ease it.

*Hal

"Well well well, if it isn't the great, the powerful, the oh so legendary, Hal Jordan, here to gift us with his presence."

There were more than a few things Hal had to get used to again after coming back. Even with his time spent as the Spectre, there were distinct differences between that plane of being and this new, very human one. He'd been here before, yes, but it all felt so new now, so different.

He could rember the banalities of human life from years past, from before he'd let fear overtake him. Small things like breathing, the small push to sit up in the morning, the pangs of hunger, and the drowsiness of exhaustion, they all felt so much more important now, so much more and human. He wanted, needed, to savor it all.

Just as he needed to savor those little, everyday occurrences, he needed to savor the not so everyday happenings. He'd been given a second chance, multiple even. Here he was, alive and whole, with a ring on his finger and the power of his will flowing through his veins. Somehow he'd been given a second chance with the ring, a chance he'd never expected to get even though he craved it with all his being. The Corps had been decimated because of him, left with nothing but Ganthet and a single ring. Yet here he was, amongst this new Corps, amongst these Lanterns both new and old. How could this have happened? Surely it was a mistake. People didn't just get second chances like this, no one did. Yeah there were others who confronted him, who made it clear he wasn't welcome or trusted, but then he'd have someone else step in, someone who made it clear they were on his side.

Somehow Guy was one of those people,and for the life of him he couldn't figure out how.

Even before Parallax they'd been at each other's throats, more than ready to rip each to shreds. Betas were usually pretty calm, keeping out of trouble and resolving those sorts of fights quickly, but there Guy was unwilling to back down no matter how outmatched he was. It had made Hal wonder for the longest time if he was wrong about Guy's designation, there were aggressive betas, but this, this was something else entirely, something he'd only ever seen in alphas.

Maybe it was just a learned behavior, Guy had been open enough with him and John about his childhood and his father, maybe that old son of a bitch had something to do with.

But now, years later, there was something else off, something much stranger. Hal could accept Guy's closeness to Kyle, between Guy and John those two were really Kyle's only connection to the Corps for the longest while. It would make sense that they'd create a bond of some kind. And with how tight John and Guy had been back in the day, it also made sense that it had continued on into today, whatever pack they'd had from their time with Hal had shifted to suit their new needs, seemingly drawing Kyle in. And with him the pack seemed so much closer, so much more complete. Even from a distance Hal could see it. Kyle brought to them what their pack had been lacking, completing the circle and finally gifting to the pack an omega.

That wasn't to say Hal only saw him through his designation, not at all. Kyle was resourceful, cunning, and so damn good with that ring, Hal practically forgot about his designation. But then Kyle would take off his scent blockers, or drag someone in close and scent them, or demand everyone in the vacinity gather round for a cuddle pile because he wasn't feeling well. Hal loved those moments, finally getting the chance to be pulled in with the others without worry for scorn or derision. But he'd always notice Guy off to the side, an unreadable expression on his face as he rubbed at his neck.

The gesture bugged him, something about it feeling off even if he couldn't figure out what it was. Guy had always been a bit more reserved in his displays of affection in the past, especially when it came to the pack. He'd always preferred to wait until they were behind closed doors to say or do anything, his voice gruff and closed off whenever Hal asked why. Seeing it now, he had to wonder if that was still the case, and if so why.

* Kilowog

The return to the Corps was...Interesting to say the least. Having just Rayner and then Stewart running around with a ring had been an adjustment, and that was before he'd had his body restored and a new ring put on his finger. Returning to the Corps, even if it was only the three of them and Ganthet, had felt like coming home. All things considered, it was.

Then came Jordan's return, and with it his and Gardner's return to the ring. Kilowog had almost cried tears of joy at seeing Hal, very much alive and not possessed by the yellow impurity. He'd managed to wait until Batman and the other Earth heroes were gone before he'd pulled the pilot into a spine shattering hug, but only just barely. And then he'd grabbed Guy, the man's joyful laughter filling the air around, and as he pulled him close he realized something was off, something was different. He couldn't quite place it, the echoes of their battle with Parallax and the adrenaline that accompanied it still racing through him, but he made a mental note to figure it out later, to check in on it and make sure his friend and fellow Corpsman was well. If anything the strangeness might have just been a result of the recent trauma Guy had gone through, a byproduct of his Vuldarian dna going haywire and causing his body to practically turn itself inside out. It would be much weirder if he was completely fine. Whatever it was, he could figure it out later.

Unfortunately later came a lot later. Between the new rings going out, training the new recruits, and then dealing with the mess with the Spider Guild, he'd hardly had a moment to himself, let alone enough of one to check on his Earth friend. Recruits were his priority as the Corps's trainer after all, his own personal concerns needed to be set aside to tend to them. Though he supposed that was something he and Guy shared now, wasn't it? The two of them alongside Kyle and the other veteran Lanterns all stood as the trainers of the hundreds of recruits, their leaders and moral compass, their example. While Kyle and the others had accepted the role with pride, Guy hadn't been as forthcoming.

"I'm not a teacher," he'd said, something which had confused Kilowog immensely. Guy had been a teacher, had counseled prisoners and taught children with needs that others were not equipped for, Kilowog knew that, Guy knew that, so why would he say otherwise? When they were struggling against the Spider Guild he'd rallied everyone together, he'd pulled them together and pushed them to victory, even those rookies that were scared shitless. If anyone was fit for the job it was him.

Did it have to do with whatever was different? Kilowog hadn't gotten a chance to ask about it. Maybe that was it.

He looked around the decimated Oan landscape to where everyone was working, watched as Lanterns rebuilt the parts of the planet that had been broken while others like Natu worked to help those that were hurt. He caught sight of his Earth friends, the four of them working with different recruits on various projects. It didn't escape his sight how dazed Hal seemed, with his eyebrows pinched and his gaze set unwaveringly on Guy, even as he lifted the fallen structure before him with ease. So he noticed it too, whatever this was.

Kilowog waved to the man, barely receiving a responding wave before he turned to head in Guy's direction. Whatever was off he needed to figure it out.

Guy nodded at his arrival, laughing and joking, before turning his attention back to the surrounding recruits, and that's when he realized his scent was off. Smell was always odd off of one's home world, the burning of a planets ozone, the stillness of space, and the atmosphere of whatever planet you landed on all working to alter ones scent. But even with all of that taken into consideration, he knew Guy's was off. Even the years since his last stint as a Lantern couldn't account for this sweet smell. He'd always smelled very neutral, not too sweet or spicy or bitter, no one smell overpowering him that he could remember. Yet here he floated, smelling of burnt Earth wood. It was off putting to say the least.

Humans didn't normally change their scents right? At least not like this. He knew of their odd genders and sexes, the alphas like Hal and John with their musky and earthy smells, the omegas like Kyle with their restrained but pleasantly sweet smells-so long as they were happy and scent blockers were not in use-, and the betas with their muted or even complete lack of a smell. Kilowog had never been able to smell Guy outside of normal acquired scents, he'd always been nonexistent to the Bolovaxian's nose. But taking a nice, deep breath, pulling in the surrounding air, it was undeniable. Guy smelled less like nothing and more like Kyle.

"You okay ya big butt head?" Guy asked with a light hearted shove. "You're looking like your head's about to pop."

Kilowog looked him over, not noticing any differences in him physically​ other than his altered hairstyle and the few additional lines that age had brought him. He breathed in one more time, that wood smell still there, still radiating off of Guy, and he had to know. "You smell different Poozer." He said it like a joke, adding in a small grin as he grabbed Guy's shoulder. "Trying to attract the new recruits? Smell's important to more than a few of their races."

In a flash the color drained from Guy's already pale face, his hand rushing up to slap over his covered neck, reaching under the material of his uniform for something Kilowog couldn't see. He threw his head back, eliciting a groan before following it up with an exclamation of "Fuck!" More than a few recruits turned around, scandalized at whatever their rings had translated the word as. Kilowog waved them away with a glare, grabbing Guy's shoulder to pull him somewhere private and away from the hundreds of eyes currently watching them. Whatever this was Guy clearly wasn't comfortable with it, and the last thing Kilowog wanted was to make it worse.

The other Earth Lanterns watched them go, Kyle and John with knowing looks, and Hal with one of worry and a little panic. Did he know what this was? Or was he as lost as Kilowog was?

"Are you okay?" He asked once they were well away from the others. Guy's face was firmly planted in his hands, waves of frustration rolling off of him as something soured the aired.

"No," he finally answered, forcing himself to look up at the alien towering over him before he started pacing around the space, running his hands over his head. "I'm not. I can't fucking believe, I know that I, it was there before, some fucker must've got a lucky shot, god dman it. This wasn't supposed to happen."

"Guy, my friend, you c'n trust me, you know that," Kilowog said as he found a perch to sit on. "What wasn't supposed to happen?"

Guy stopped in his pacing, looking out of their space to the work being done, a sudden look of exhaustion coming over him. He hadn't rested in a while, had he? Not since before that recruit training session turned mission brief. The others had taken time to at least sit down, to be looked over for any medical needs, or even to rest for a bit. Guy hadn't.

"My scent blockers," Guy answered, squeezing himself in next to Kilowog as he reached into his shirt, pulling out a small skin like pad. "There's supposed to be two of them, one of them must've come lose during that final bit with the Guild. You're not supposed to be able to smell me big guy."

Kilowog reached down slowly, taking the small square once Guy nodded his approval. He held it up, looked it over for any oddities. It was small, smaller than one of his fingers, with a color that matched Guy's flesh almost exactly on one side, and an adhesive, white color on the other. He took a small sniff of the material, and in an instant his nose was filled with various smells and the feelings connected to them. He knew what this was, Hal had explained it to him years ago when Hal had first been inducted into the ranks of the Green Lanterns, the alpha having worn them as a way to keep his head clear and to not give away his emotions.

"You're not a beta then," Kilowog stated as he handed the square back. "I don't understand why you would be concerned over that. This is a new Corps, we trust each other here, you don't need to hide."

The look Guy gave him screamed of confusion, like he'd expected something much worse, something condemning. "You're not..."

"Why would I be? It doesn't change anything. You're still the same Poozer I knew before, you just smell different, that's all."

Guy nodded, fisting the used up blocker into a ball as he hung his head. Watching him, Kilowog went through the options that were left, what he could do. While he understood his own race's sexes and their unique characteristics, his knowledge of Earth's was still limited to what little information Hal had given him all those years ago and what little he'd observed on Earth. And for all he knew that could've changed. He didn't want to assume anything, not with his friend clearly so anxious.

"Is that why y' didn't wanna teach the new recruits?" He asked. "You thought the Guardians were stereotyping you?"

"Sorta?" Guy leaned into him, his head cushioning itself into the side of his chest with little resistance. "I mean, I wanted more action and stuff too, thought they were sidelining me compared to John and Hal, and considering Kyle was gonna be the only other one with me, well. Putting the two omegas as trainers and the two alphas on the front lines has some, implications, if you get my meaning."

"But the Guardians don't know," Kilowog said. "At least, they didn't seem to before."

"Ganthet knows."

"Do you really think he'd hold that over you? Especially now? After Kyle?"

"I've known people to do a worse heel face turn, I wouldn't be surprised."

There wasn't much to be said for that. Guy was right after all. Kilowog had been on Earth enough, had seen how some humans treated others based on their designation. He could remember the phrases "You're really good for an omega" and "Why can't other omegas just be like you?" clear as day, that implication that these people were less capable just by virtue of existing. He'd also seen the extent of human brutality, how manipulative they could be. If he had it his way his Earth friends would never return to that planet, he'd keep them away from those horrible people with their horrible lies and words, but he knew he'd be no better if he did. His friends deserved to make their own choices and go where they wanted, he just needed to be prepared if they ever needed him.

"Well," he finally said, pulling Guy even closer to his side as he leaned down to nuzzle his head. "If they ever try anything they'll be dealing with a lot more than just you."

"Is that so?"

"Heh, between me, your Earth brothers, and those recruits out there, the Guardians stand no chance against us."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that big K," Guy said, patting the hand on his side.

"Overcome your fear Poozer," Kilowog said with a joking lilt to his voice, running his hand over the little bit of hair on Guy's head. "Trust your fellow Lanterns, believe in them. They care a lot less about your human designations than you meat sacks think they do."

"Fine fine." Guy's laughter flowed again, bringing peace along with it. "We'll see."

"We better."