#blue lantern

[stealingpotatoes]

commission for @leilanising-sideblog!

(commissions are open!)

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Bruce Wayne x shy!reader who’s a blue lantern (if you’re not familiar with blue lantern, that’s fine). Ever since Damian arrived Bruce life (from the movie “Son of Batman”) , Damian is wondering why the bat family are outside waiting for someone. But when he accompany them, he found out that it was shy!reader, the wife of Bruce Wayne (Batman)

A/n: Bat!Mom Au where she's a blue lantern and not a baker 🤔

The manor was unusually quiet that evening. Alfred had arranged for dinner, but the Batfamily—Dick, Tim, even Jason, who rarely showed up voluntarily—were gathered out front instead of waiting inside.

Damian noticed, suspicious as always. His sharp green eyes narrowed as he glanced around at the unusually collected family.

“Why are we outside?” he demanded, arms folded, posture stiff like a coiled blade. “We don’t stand around like peasants waiting for someone.”

Dick chuckled softly. “This is different, little brother. You’ll see.”

Tim grinned, though softer. “Trust me, you’ll understand in a second.”

Jason just smirked, hands shoved in his jacket. “Kid’s about to get the shock of his life.”

Damian frowned but followed anyway, lingering closer to Alfred as if the butler might give him answers. But Alfred only smiled knowingly, hands clasped behind his back.

Then the hum of energy filled the air.

It wasn’t the roar of an engine or the silence of wings. It was softer—like a heartbeat wrapped in starlight. A faint blue glow illuminated the driveway, shining even against the setting Gotham sun.

Damian tensed, reaching instinctively for a blade at his belt. “What is that?”

“Relax,” Dick murmured, touching his shoulder lightly. “That’s not an enemy. That’s… her.”

The light grew until a figure stepped out of it, soft blue aura fading as she landed gently on the ground. A woman, cloaked in gentle luminance, wearing the symbol of hope across her chest. Her steps were quiet, hesitant, and her eyes stayed lowered as though she feared meeting too many stares at once.

You.

The shy Blue Lantern who had stolen Batman’s heart.

“(Y/N),” Bruce’s voice came from behind Damian before the boy could react. The Bat had shed the cowl, but his tone carried that rare softness the child hadn’t heard yet.

Damian turned sharply. “You know this woman?”

But Bruce was already moving forward, the rigid lines of his shoulders easing in a way Damian had never seen. The man who never bent, who never let weakness show, looked almost human as he crossed the gravel.

When Bruce reached you, you offered him the smallest smile—uncertain, but warm. He cupped your cheek with surprising gentleness, and you leaned into the touch like you’d been waiting for him.

“Welcome home,” Bruce murmured.

You nodded faintly, blue aura flickering like a heartbeat. “Sorry I’m late. There were… stragglers on the way back from Oa.”

The family gave you space, watching. Damian’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Father… what is this?”

Bruce turned, his arm still protective around your shoulders. His eyes met his son’s with that same commanding presence, but now there was something softer there too.

“This is my wife,” Bruce said plainly. “Your stepmother.”

The silence was thick enough to choke on. Damian blinked hard, fists clenching. “You—married? You kept this from me?”

Jason laughed outright. “Oh, this is rich. The demon brat didn’t know.”

Dick shot him a warning look, but Tim stepped closer, smiling kindly at you. “Welcome back. We’ve missed you.”

You ducked your head at the kindness, murmuring, “I missed you all too.”

Damian bristled. “You’re telling me she—a stranger glowing like a star—is supposed to be family?”

Bruce’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder, his gaze firm on his son. “She’s not a stranger. She’s my partner. She’s been fighting alongside me longer than you’ve been alive. She’s also the reason Gotham hasn’t drowned in despair more times than you realize.”

Your voice, quiet but steady, cut through before Bruce could continue. “I don’t expect you to accept me right away, Damian. But I promise you—I want nothing more than for you to feel at home here. With all of us.”

The boy glared, but your sincerity—the soft, unwavering calm that radiated from you—made his defiance falter. Something in his chest loosened, though he refused to admit it. He looked away, muttering, “We’ll see.”

Bruce caught your eye, his lips twitching in the faintest smirk. He could already tell your patience would outlast Damian’s walls. As the family ushered you inside, Damian trailed behind, watching the way you moved at Bruce’s side. The glow around you wasn’t threatening, wasn’t suffocating. It was… warm. Hope. Something he wasn’t sure he believed in. But maybe, just maybe, he would.

That night, Damian wandered the halls restlessly. Training hadn’t eased his mind, and sleep refused to come. He slipped into the library, a book in hand he didn’t truly intend to read, when he heard it—the faint sound of humming. His head snapped up. From the far end of the room, a gentle glow shimmered. You stood near the tall windows, bathed in moonlight, your Blue Lantern ring casting a soft aura as you traced your fingers over an old globe. The hum was low and steady, a tune that sounded like it belonged to another world entirely.

Damian rose, blade instinctively at his side. “You—what are you doing here?”

You turned, startled, your cheeks flushing at being caught. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted softly. “Sometimes… the hum helps. It calms me.”

He scowled. “Calm is a weakness.”

You tilted your head, not arguing, simply meeting his glare with steady eyes. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Every retort lodged in his throat. The glow around you made it hard to breathe—not because it was suffocating, but because it was warm. You noticed the tiredness in his small frame, the rigid tension of someone who never let himself be a child. Slowly, you extended your hand. “Come here.”

Damian stiffened. “I don’t need—”

But you didn’t press. You simply let the soft blue aura surround you, filling the air with comfort. The ring pulsed faintly, responding to his unspoken conflict. And before he could stop himself, Damian’s feet carried him forward. He sat down stiffly beside you, not looking at you, but not leaving either.

The glow wrapped around him like a blanket. His muscles eased against his will, his eyelids heavier than before. You smiled faintly. “The ring amplifies hope,” you whispered, almost like a secret. “Not just for the world. For those who carry too much weight.”

His head dipped before he realized it, resting lightly against your arm. “I don’t… carry weight,” he muttered, voice groggy.

But you could hear the truth beneath it. You didn’t call it out. Instead, you continued humming softly until Damian’s breathing steadied and sleep finally claimed him.

Bruce found you an hour later, standing in the library still glowing faintly, with his son slumped against you, asleep for the first time in days without nightmares. The sight nearly undid him.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

You looked up shyly, lips curving softly. “He just needed hope.”

Bruce stepped closer, brushing his hand against your back in quiet affection. His eyes lingered on Damian—on the way the boy unconsciously leaned against you as if you’d always been there. For the first time in a long time, Bruce felt something settle in his chest. Gotham could rage, the League could burn, but here, in this moment, he had a family.

[zhelin-thames]

Where Danny meets the rest of the Lantern Corps and causes more chaos

[Danny gets whisked away to Oa, the Green Lantern HQ.]

Danny: [looking around at glowing green architecture] Whoa, it’s like Tron threw up everywhere. Hal Jordan: [facepalming] Try not to embarrass me in front of the Guardians, okay? Danny: [grinning] No promises, Green Dad. Hal Jordan: [groaning] I’m not your dad.

[Danny Meets Kilowog]

Kilowog: What’s the deal with the glowing kid? He’s not a recruit, is he? Danny: Nope. I’m Danny, half-ghost, full-time troublemaker. Who’re you? Kilowog: Kilowog. Drill instructor for the Green Lantern Corps. Danny: [mock salute] Nice to meet you, Sergeant Glowstick. Kilowog: [laughs, clapping Danny on the back] I like this one. He’s got guts.

[Danny Learns About Other Lantern Corps]

Danny: [flipping through a hologram book] So, there are other ring colors? Hal Jordan: [sighs] Yes, but most of them are dangerous. Don’t get any ideas. Danny: [grinning] Oh, too late. A ghost-powered Lantern sounds awesome. Hal Jordan: You’re already glowing! What more do you want?!

[Danny Meets a Red Lantern]

Atrocitus: [growling, his ring glowing red with rage] Who dares step into my sector?! Danny: [floating nonchalantly] Chill, dude. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel. Atrocitus: [angrier] You mock me?! Danny: [grinning] Not my fault you’re part of the anger issues club. Do you guys hand out stress balls, or…? Hal Jordan: [grabbing Danny and pulling him away] Stop antagonizing the rage monster!

[Danny Meets a Blue Lantern]

Saint Walker: [calmly] You radiate unusual hope for someone straddling life and death. Danny: [grinning] Thanks. You radiate spa-day vibes. Saint Walker: [smiling serenely] I shall take that as a compliment.

[Danny Tries to Join the Sinestro Corps]

Danny: [looking at a yellow power ring] Fear-based powers? I scare people all the time! This would totally work for me. Sinestro: [looming] You think you’re worthy of wielding fear? Danny: [goes ghost, glowing green with a chilling aura] Boo. Sinestro: [startled] …Perhaps you are. Hal Jordan: [snatching Danny back] Absolutely not!

[Lanterns Watching Danny]

Kilowog: The kid’s like a tiny tornado of chaos. Saint Walker: And yet, there’s potential in him. Hal Jordan: Potential to give me a headache.

[Danny With the Black Lanterns]

Danny: [walking into a dark room] So, what’s the deal with these Black Lanterns? Hal Jordan: [panicking] No. Absolutely not. Get out of here now. Danny: [grinning] What? I’m technically dead. I’d fit right in. Hal Jordan: [dragging Danny away] You’re not meeting Nekron. End of discussion.

[Danny Shows Off to the Lantern Corps]

Danny: [blasting ectoplasm everywhere] My powers are cooler than your glowsticks, admit it. Kilowog: Let’s spar and find out, kid. Danny: [cracking his knuckles] Bring it on, Hulk Lite.

Danny phases through every construct Kilowog throws at him, laughing the whole time.

Hal Jordan: [watching in the background] Why do I even bother?

[Later, Back on Earth]

Tucker: You went to space and met aliens with power rings?! Danny: Yup. Turns out I’m way better at glowing than they are. Sam: Did you actually join any of the corps? Danny: [grinning] Nah, they’d never survive me.

[d1onysusw1n3]

✮𝘏𝘢𝘭 𝘑𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘯’𝘴!𝘋𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳

✮ Hal Jordan just wanted a cup of coffee. A quick break. Nothing complicated. But the second he stepped into the Watchtower kitchen, that quiet moment unraveled the moment Y/N Wayne walked in—graceful, lethal, and breathtaking in a way that made it hard to think straight.

Dressed in tight black tactical gear, with dark eyes that burned with need, she didn’t bother hiding what she wanted.

(Warning: Age Gap; 19 & 30)

He was just trying to get a cup of coffee.

He had twenty minutes before the next meeting, and after an emergency planetary rescue followed by three hours of Bruce Wayne-level debriefing, Hal needed caffeine like he needed oxygen.

The lights in the kitchen flickered soft white over the polished countertops, clean steel, and half-eaten remnants of whatever food Barry had speed-cooked earlier. The room was still and quiet—until he felt someone step in behind him.

“Next time clean your mess you insufferable ass-” he said without looking, voice gruff, assuming Barry trailed in behind him for another snack.

“Such a potty mouth,” you purred, your voice smooth and low.

Your tone was silk wrapped in razor wire. Y/N Wayne. Batman’s daughter. The woman who had been dancing around him with dangerous intent for weeks.

Hal swallowed and turned slowly.

You were leaning against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted, all dressed in sleek black tactical gear that hugged you like a second skin. Your lips were full and pink with a sheen of sparkling gloss over them. You had dark eyes sparkled with the same devilish curiosity that had gotten them both into trouble before.

But not this kind of trouble. Not yet.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, cautious. His body stiffened at the unusual tension surrounding them.

You didn’t answer at first—just pushed off the counter and walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps, — hips cocking side to side in confidence as your heels clicked and echoed off the walls.

He tensed. “Don’t.”

“I just want coffee,” you said, mock-innocent.

But when you reached past him to grab a mug, your body brushed against his—hips grazing his side, the curve of your chest brushing his arm. And you lingered. Just a second too long.

He stepped back. “Y/N…”

You turned toward him with a smile that could melt ice or cause a diplomatic incident. “You know, you always look so serious when you’re trying to resist me. I think I like it.”

“You’re Bruce’s daughter,” he growled, like saying it out loud might ground him.

“Mhm.” You stepped closer again. “And you’re a grown man. One who hasn’t stopped staring at me since the mission on Galtrex-7.”

“That was a tight uniform,” he muttered, even though he could feel heat creeping up his spine, he couldn’t help but to be a witty piece of shit.

“And this one isn’t?” You teased, dragging your gloved fingers slowly down the zipper of your suit—only a couple inches, just enough to show the bare skin of your inner boob, just to watch his throat bob as he looked.

“Y/N…” He backed into the center island table, heart thundering. “We can’t. You know we can’t.”

“And yet,” you whispered, stepping between his legs as he leaned back on the table, “you haven’t left the room.” Leaning over him as he sat on his elbows.

Your fingers trailed up his chest. “Tell me to stop, Lantern.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “I should. I should tell you to—”

He grunts, not allowing the moans threatening to spill over the top the freedom of escaping, as you dug your nails down his abs, Just enough to make him sore, not to draw any blood.

“I heard you like it rough, I promise I don’t bite,” you lean in kissing the edge of his jaw, slowly you bring your lips to his ear whispering, teasing, “unless you want me too.” Your minty breath fans over his face— Hal’s chest rises and falls in painful breaths.

And not a moment later your lips were on his.

He let out a choked sound, caught between surrender and desperation, and kissed you back. Hard.

The mug clattered to the floor, forgotten. His hands found your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your mouth was hot, demanding, and he met you with equal fire. The kiss deepened—messy, hungry, frantic. You softly moaned into it, your fingers raking through his hair, messing it up until it stood in all directions. Your leg slid between the middle of his,— body flush to him, and Hal lost the will to resist.

He lifted you onto the island table, standing between your thighs as both of your lips never parted. Your arms locked around his neck, pulling him in, his hands dragging down your back to your hips, gripping you like he needed to stay grounded.

“This is so wrong,” he muttered against your mouth.

You smiled into the kiss. “So make it worse.” You muttered. “Ruin me—“

Oh trust, he was planning on it.

He kissed you like a man who hadn’t been touched in years. His mouth moved down to your throat, where he sucked a mark into your pulse point — you tilt your head with a soft gasp. Your hands were all over him—shoulders, chest, hair—like you wanted to memorize the way he felt under your fingers.

He groaned. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Not before I get to fuck you sensless.”

Their bodies pressed tighter, your back arching off the table. He kissed her again, slower this time, deeper. Like if he gave you too much space, you’d vanish. Like he needed you to keep his heart beating.

“Fuck princess-“ he muttered— painfully hard against his suit. Your mouth was dirty and direct, you were a girl who knew what she wanted, and it turned him on way more than it should have.

“Wanna take this off, I know you do..” you trail off directing his hand to the zipper in front of your suit.

He gently pulls it down, the small zip of your suit filling the quiet in the room. All Hal could think about is how catwoman and Batman would kill him if they found out he was defiling their sweet, innocent, daughter.

Hal kisses down your left shoulder, to your color bone— lips hovering over your soft breasts, he latches his mouth to one of your nipples, gently tugging at your bud with his teeth.

He groans allowing himself to suck at your soft mounds, placing purples markings up and down your chest.

You peel your latex suit off, allowing it to flood at your waist, he tugs it down more— lifting your hips, the suit pooled on the floor.

You both knew how risky this was, Bruce Wayne’s daughter naked in just a pair of black heels, legs spread open, cunt drenched all for Hal, her dad’s long time friend, and co-worker.

Hal pushes down the waistband of his pants, freeing his aching cock. Just as he was aligning his tip to your entrance— he heard a loud laugh down the hall. Barry and Vic most likely.

Shit.

You hop down picking up your hero suit, knowing the damage has already been done, you snatch Hal’s arm, throwing him into a closet in the kitchen. Luckily it wasn’t the pantry, just an area that holds old stuff like, a table, some cleaning supplies, and a broom with a dustpan.

The room wasn’t insulated, and the air was infested with dust and grime. Hal shuts the door behind you both. — Pulling the metal string hanging from the light bulb above you. With a small click, the lightbulb buzzes to life, dimmed by dust rimming the bottom of it.

Berry walks in putting together a shit ton of random foods while Vic sips his coffee with a disgusted look on his face.

“Dude gross..” he winces.

“I haf a hifgh mofabolisom..” Barry slurs unable to speak through the beef jerky —cheese whizz he was snorting down..together..

“Groody...” you trail off.

Without a warning Hal slaps a hand over your mouth— he forces your legs open with his knee, holding you up with his arm.

Your back was flush against his chest as he angles his hips, thrusting into you, with a hard slow pace. You could feel your eyes roll behind your head as he hit your cervix with every thrust.

You went limp in his hands, like warm putty, allowing him to completely ruin you.As soon as Barry leaves with Vic trailing behind him in slow calculated steps. You accidentally let out a small whimper.

You could see them both pause for a second through the ridges in the door, but they both eventually walked out the door.

That’s when hal lets go of your mouth, allowing you to draw out a raunchy moan that could battle a pornstars best performance.

He constructs a green table, a little more sturdy than the one in the corner with only three legs.

Gently Slamming you on the surface— he slaps your ass, rutting into your wet cunt in hard fast strokes. He didn’t care anymore, the only thing on his mind was how good you squeezed his fat cock, how you clenched around him every time he would let out a groan or whimper.

“Dirty little fucking slut, you like seducing grown men huh, pushing me to my fucking limit!” He growls inhumanly fucking you with such a force your body jerks forward on impact.

He slaps your ass, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers.

“Fuck, M’gna,” your mouth gapes open in pleasure, unable to see, as stars flooded your vision.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on this fat dick, go ahead and cum princess.” Hal leans down on your back, wrapping a hand around your throat, as the other one rubs fast circles onto your clit.

“Fuck!” Hal grits.

A bone shivering moan racks from your body, as your orgasm crashes down on you. Your legs shake and your body twitches in pleasure.

Hal thrusts deep and hard a couple of times before spilling his seed deep inside of you, slowly riding out his orgasm with a sigh— throwing his head back — eyes furrowed in pleasure.

Beep beep.

The alert from the Watchtower systems echoed faintly from the hallway.

Meeting time.

Hal pulled out, panting. His lips were swollen, his hair a wreck, and his mind was no longer anywhere close to calm.

You hopped off the table, putting your suit back on like nothing had happened. eyes sparkling. Your mouth was a little redder than before.

You looked like sin; And victory as a sheet of sweat covered dusted your skin.

“You coming?” You ask, tossing a glance over your shoulder while walking toward the door.

He groaned quickly tucking himself back into his pants. “Literally or figuratively?”

Your laugh was low and dark. “Pick one.”

⸻

Ten Minutes Later – in the JLA Conference Room..

Superman was mid-briefing when the door hissed open.

Hal walked in, trying to look composed. He failed. His hair was still wild, his jaw red from kisses, and his shirt looked like it had been tugged on in haste.

Y/N followed a beat behind, gliding into her seat like a cat who’d just knocked over a glass on purpose. Her mouth wore the faintest smirk.

Across the table, Bruce Wayne’s eyes narrowed. He looked from Hal… to his daughter… then back again.

Hal coughed and stared straight ahead.

Wonder Woman raised an elegant brow.

Barry leaned over to Vic. “Dude I told you. Kitchen closet.”

“No way,” Vic whispered back.

But Y/N just crossed her legs, laced her fingers under her chin, and smiled sweetly.

In her mind, it was Mission: accomplished.

Though Hal had only one thing in his mind: survival.

[izu]

is it cringe to make lantern ocs now. did i miss the lantern oc party

[theforswornelite]

[bearforceone3]

guy’s own brand of hope

[cosmiccolabigbang]