𝑰𝑵  𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻𝑬𝑺𝑻  𝑫𝑨𝒀,  𝑰𝑵  𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑺𝑻  𝑵𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻,  𝑵𝑶  𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳  𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳  𝑬𝑺𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑬  𝑴𝒀  𝑺𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻  .  .  .

                  #𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐒  :  an  independent,  private  and  selective  HAL  JORDAN  /  GREEN  LANTERN  of  DC  COMICS.  primarily  new  earth  and  headcanon  based,  with  some  concepts  gutted  from  the  new  52.  established  january  2022.  written  by  jason  (27,  he/him).

@brightcorps​ & ᴀᴍ ɪ ʀᴇᴅᴇᴇᴍᴀʙʟᴇ?

ʙᴀɴɢ! ╾━╤デ╦︻  ғᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ. He used to like Hal. Maybe only because Bruce hated him so much. Maybe that’s why Jason used to hang on every word. But now all the older heroes left a bad taste in his mouth. So many years they’ve had to cause real change and Jason feels more stagnant than the space behind a Florida dumpster.

                             ❝ Washed up, old man. Look at you. Hated by half of heroes because you never learned to shut the fuck up. How’s it feel to know you’ll die alone, probably in the vast expanse of space, and no one will miss you.  ❞

          “  that’s  not  what  people  hate  me  for,  “  is  the  rebuttal  of  choice  that  tumbles  its  way  out  of  hal’s  mouth,  as  if  the  misconception  is  the  greatest  offense,  “  they  hate  me  for  a  bunch  of  other  stuff,  too.  .  .  the  not  shutting  up  part  is  just  the  cherry  on  top.  “  the  insults  roll  off  hal  like  they’re  nothing,  because  that's  exactly  what  they  are—  and  the  more  pressing  issue  is  trying  to  place  how  this  guy  knows  him,  recognition  slowly  ticking  away  in  his  head.

and it comes ESPECIALLY from bruce which like if it were better established that bruce conflating parallax’s actions with hal’s comes from a place of bias against hal i guess i’d get it but to the degree with which its executed feels extremely out of character for bruce. but other characters, even ones that are arguably on hal’s side, do it too and are like “hal’s doing xyz” and it’s like no? you all know that’s not hal? why are you calling parallax hal. 

          it’s  gotten  easier,  they  think,  to  sleep.  for  a  while,  the  unoccupied  space  between  his  body  and  dinah’s  felt  daunting.  too  cold,  the  dips  and  grooves  in  the  mattress  rising  from  disuse.  and  for  a  while,  all  hal  could  do  was  stare  at  that  space.  sometimes  he’d  meet  dinah’s  eyes  from  across  the  sheets,  and  know  she  was  thinking  the  same.  he’s  able  to  traverse  the  expanse  now,  to  curl  themself  around  dinah,  face  pressed  into  her  hair.  sometimes  dinah  is  the  one  to  cross  the  threshold.  neither  of  them  seem  to  dare  to  try  and  fill  that  void  on  their  california  king,  though.

          hal  flinches,  if  only  slightly,  when  two  hands  inch  their  way  around  his  waist.  “  thought  you  were  asleep.  .  .   did  i  wake  you?  “  they  mumble..  her  hands  are  warm,  much  warmer  than  he’d  anticipated,  when  they  reach  their  stop  at  his  chest.  or  maybe  the  night  air  has  chilled  him  deeper  than  he'd  been  able  to  feel  until  that  moment.  dinah's  slow  breaths  dance  along  the  curve  of  their  spine,  and  he  takes  her  fingers  in  theirs.  presses  their  lips  against  her  knuckles.  

“  come  inside,  “  dinah  says,  “  come  inside  and  be  with  me.  “  her  voice  still  sounds  hazy  and  sleep-heavy,  laced  with  concern  around  its  edges,  and  that  doesn’t  escape  him.  he  kisses  her  hand  again,  squeezes  it  tight.  they  look  out  to  the  stars  again—  twinkling,  welcoming  in  the  way  that  the  promise  of  absolute  solitude  can  only  be  in  grief.  but  dinah  needs  him,  rooted  to  the  earth,  and  they  can’t  sleep  without  her  anymore.

          “  i  just  needed  some  fresh  air,  “  hal  replies,  turning  in  her  arms  to  look  at  her.  he  takes  dinah’s  face  in  their  palms.  brushes  her  long  hair  away  from  her  forehead,  arching  down  to  kiss  the  lines  between  her  brows.  oliver  would  want  him  to  stay,  so  they  will.  “  i’ll  be  back  in  soon,  i  promise.  “

WHAT  AM  I  NOW?  A  GREEN  FIRE  .  .  .  a  flash  of  light  .  .  .  a  blast  of  force.  WHAT  AM  I?  the  power.  AM  I  AFRAID?  yes.

                      BUT  THE  FEAR  DOESN'T  MATTER  NOW.