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pneumaticshift · 4 months ago

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pls can we have batlantern confession butmake it cringe ^..^

Oh buddy, I can do cringe. I thrive off cringe. I am the cringe.

———

The annoying thing about Spooky was that he existed.

That was the core issue, really. Bruce Wayne existed. If he didn’t, Hal’s life would’ve been a helluva lot simpler.

Because if Bruce didn’t exist, Hal wouldn’t have to deal with the constant feeling of being outplayed. He wouldn’t have to put up with the fact that no matter what he did, no matter how far he flew, how hard he hit or how clever he was, there would always be this blob of blackness lurking in the background to aggressively judge his every mood.

If Bruce didn’t exist, Hal wouldn’t have to deal with that look. The one where Spooky narrowed his eyes, pressed his lips into that grim, disappointed line, and somehow managed to communicate all the power of justice, vengeance, and at least forty years of unresolved emotional baggage in a single glance. He wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that Bruce could vanish mid-conversation just to be dramatic. He wouldn’t have to deal with the way Bruce always seemed to know things, things Hal hadn’t even figured out about himself yet.

If Bruce Wayne didn’t exist, Hal wouldn’t be freaking out because he fell in love entirely without his consent.

And now he was existing in proximity. Standing in the Watchtower common room, pouring himself a cup of coffee like it was normal, like he was normal. Like he was just some guy. Entirely unforgiving of the fact that Hal realised he had fallen in love with him three days prior and was now suffering the beginnings of a really fun existential crisis because of it.

Because Hal was Hal and because he couldn’t be normal about anything, as soon as Bruce glided into the room, all tucked up in his big dumb cape, he froze. Odocoileus virginianus. Wide eyes, locked joints, brain empty, headlights on. His entire life flashing before his eyes. Not even the good parts. The stupid parts where he tripped on air, or the time he gave a presentation in college with his fly undone and he had been wearing his girlfriend’s underwear.

He was being dramatic, maybe, but he thought he earned the right to be dramatic when the object of his very reluctant affections was the type to unironically wear a cape and flounce about punching things in the moonlight.

It was, however, a wildly ineffective reaction when faced with a man who was widely considered to be the World’s Greatest Detective. Which, in Hal’s opinion, was a dumb title.

“You’re quiet,” Bruce said, because he noticed things like that. Of course he would. Bruce noticed everything. He probably had folders on everyone in the League and kept track of how many words each of them said in a day. Probably had charts and graphs, too. Loser.

“I’m quiet?” Hal repeated. Then, because he was the type to acknowledge an opportunity to make things worse for himself and leap towards it, he added, “I’m never quiet. You’re the quiet one, ever think about that? Can’t a guy take a second just to, like, sit here and exist? Is that really such a big deal?”

Spooky leaned against the counter and took a sip of his coffee. He was still wearing the cowl, but his expression probably wouldn’t have changed even without it. There was a really specific feeling that came with being stared at judgmentally by Batman. Usually irritation. Now, Hal realised, it was accompanied by a very unwelcome flip in his stomach.

“I suppose not,” Bruce said.

This was exactly why Hal had plans to avoid Bruce for the rest of his life. Or at least until he got a handle of this new light he was seeing him in. Without saying much of anything, Spooky was already on his way to backing Hal into a corner. It wasn’t even intentional. It was just the way he was. Just the way he goddamn existed.

So, after a moment of staring awkwardly at Bruce and hoping one of them would just disintegrate or something, Hal made the totally rational decision to bolt.

“Okay, great talk!” he announced, clapping his hands together and immediately heading for the door. Like a coward. He’d never live it down.

Bruce, to his credit, didn’t stop him. He just stood there, stock still. Creepy, really. Hal didn’t know why that did it for him, but it sure fucking did. But while Spooky didn’t move, he did decide to speak instead. “Jordan,” he called. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

Yes. Yes, Batman, Hal was definitely trying to do that. He was already committing to his hasty escape, but he automatically turned back. As much as he was being a little baby bitch and running away with his tail between his legs, he didn’t appreciate being called out on it.

His brain malfunctioned, he was pretty sure he temporarily lost his mind, and his mouth decided to betray him in real time.

“What? No. That would be insane. Why would I avoid you? I love you. Shit.”

The silence that followed wasn’t deafening, but it was mortifying.

Hal turned to stone. Just fully froze in place. Bruce didn’t react. Didn’t so much as blink. He just kept on looking at Hal with that same, neutral, horribly patient expression. Almost like he didn’t even need to react. Almost like he was just waiting to see what Hal would do next.

Which was unfortunate, because Hal really had no idea what to do next.

There was a full second where he debated trying to play it off. Slap him on the shoulder, haha, love you, pal, buddy, chum, friend, and then saunter off like he meant to do that. But his body had seized up in horror and his instincts were helpfully ordering him to abort.

So, naturally, he did the only thing he could do.

He turned on his heel and walked straight into the doorframe.

Which wasn’t cool. Like, at all.

The impact was pretty catastrophic. Both for his poor nose and his dignity. A sickening thud, the crunch of something not meant to be crunched, and then — oh. Oh no. That was a lot of blood.

Hal staggered back, hand flying to his nose, and when he pulled away, yeah. Absolutely wrecked. A flood was gushing down his face, dripping from his chin and mixing with the green of his Lantern suit until he was Christmas colours. He tried to catch it in his palm, and it stained the white of his glove red.

Spooky was still incapable of reacting like a normal person. He just watched in mild interest. No exclamation of shock, no gasp or startled movement. Just a slow blink, as if he were mentally processing the exact physics of how Hal had managed to do this to himself.

"Ow," Hal said belatedly, because his nerve endings had finally caught up to the disaster. "Shit, ow."

With a contemplative grunt, Bruce set his coffee down. That was when Hal knew he was doomed. Not because Spooky looked all that concerned, but because he was moving toward Hal with the quiet efficiency of a man about to take charge of the situation.

"Sit down," Bruce instructed, and Hal, in the midst of blood loss and panic, did exactly that.

The bat-utility belt had a lot of useful shit in it, and Bruce pulled out a wad of gauze to press against Hal’s tender face. "I think I broke my nose," Hal said, only because he felt the need to contribute something to the moment. It came out like ‘I thig I broge by dose’. Which was humiliating, naturally.

Bruce hummed, tilting Hal’s chin slightly to assess the damage. “It’s not broken.”

“Good. Great. Awesome,” Hal muttered into the gauze. “Did it look cool? It felt cool.”

Of course, Bruce didn’t reply for a moment. He was too busy applying pressure and ignoring how social interactions were supposed to go. Then, with absolutely no warning, he said, “You love me?”

Hal choked. Almost literally, because he inhaled wrong and the blood situation immediately got so much worse. Bruce just waited, patient as ever, as Hal just stared and bled in his direction. “You’re asking me that now?”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“I was panicking,” he snapped back, a little frantic. “It was trauma-induced. You can’t hold people accountable for things they say when they’re hemorrhaging.”

Bruce mercifully didn’t mention that Hal definitely wasn’t bleeding when he blurted out his fucking undying love for all things Spooky. He just held the towel firmly in place, gaze steady, unreadable, waiting for Hal to pull his head out of his ass.

And Hal, still actively leaking from the face, realised he was probably going to have to answer.

He did search for an escape route for all of three seconds, but there was none. Bruce had him locked in place with the sheer force of presence. One hand firm against Hal’s saw (strong, sexy), keeping the gauze in place like he knew Hal would try to run if given even a moment of leeway.

Which, you know, fair. Hal absolutely would have thrown himself out of the nearest airlock if he thought it would get him out of this conversation.

Instead, he was stuck. Bleeding, horrified, and, worst of all, subject to Bruce staring at him with the kind of scrutiny that peeled a person apart and rummaged around their insides for something raw and real to fall out. It was a small mercy that he couldn’t see those blue eyes. That would’ve finished him off.

Hal swallowed. His nose throbbed. His entire life throbbed.

“Okay, listen,” he started, fully prepared to embark on a desperate campaign of damage control, but he faltered.

“You love me.”

Not a question this time. A statement.

Hal made a noise that came out really ugly because of the whole nose situation. “You gotta stop saying it, man.”

Spooky continued to just look at him.

God, there was no getting out of this. There wasn’t even an inch of plausible deniability there to hide behind. Just him, his big dumb mouth, and Bruce Wayne looking at him like he was something to be figured out.

Fine, whatever. Hal had bounced back from worse things. This was mid-tier at best. Just mild, horrific, soul-crushing vulnerability. No big deal.

“I mean, yeah, obviously, I love you,” he grumbled, his words a little garbled because of all the blood and gauze. “You’re an asshole. I trust you. I wanna punch you. I respect you. And yeah, sometimes I wanna make out with you really bad, but that’s not weird because most people want to do that with you because you have, like, a really nice face, which is frankly unfair—”

“Hal.”

He shut his mouth immediately. He recognised that tone. Patient, firm, Batman tone. It had shut him up in a crisis before, and apparently, it worked on this kind of crisis too.

Bruce let the silence stretch for a moment. Probably because he was kind of a dick. Then, without preamble, he said, “I already knew.”

Hal could’ve strangled him. “Oh, you’re an asshole.”

“You’re not subtle.”

“I’ll give you subtle, you goddamn—”

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“Honestly, I was banking on you respecting my privacy for once, but maybe I set the bar too high. I can’t believe you. You’re such a dick. Can’t let a guy pine in peace.”

Spooky shrugged. “I thought you’d eventually say something.”

“Buddy, you overestimated me so hard—”

“I was right.”

Hal groaned so hard his soul tried to escape his body. He also conveniently ignored how Batman was implying he had known for a long time, while Hal had only figured it out three days ago. That sucked. “Stop being so— so smug about it! God, you’re such a douche.”

Bruce, because he was the worst and Hal was apparently into that, had the audacity to smirk. Just slightly. Just enough for Hal to know it was there. And that right there was really playing dirty, because Hal was already compromised. His brain was melting, he was actively dying (having a nosebleed) and now Spooky was looking at him like that?

Unacceptable. Absolutely unfair.

But then Bruce did something worse. So much worse.

He reached up and tugged the cowl off.

It wasn’t just that Spooky was obscenely attractive under all the doom and gloom. It was the way he did it. Like he was peeling off a formality, stripping down from Batman to just Bruce. All casual, all intimate, and for some godforsaken reason, he’d decided to do it right in front of Hal.

And Hal, brilliant, composed, intergalactically renowned Green Lantern that he was, reacted by making a tiny distressed noise in the back of his throat.

"Okay!" he yelped, scrambling to stand. "Time to leave.”

Spooky exhaled something that might have been a laugh in the right light, and caught Hal��s elbow to steady him. “Sit down before you hurt yourself again.”

Hal grumbled under his breath but did as he was told. Mostly because his options were limited and he was pretty sure his blood supply was dangerously low at this point. Bruce unravelled a fresh roll of gauze to help soak up the blood that kept on coming.

And then, because if Hal hadn’t suffered enough, Bruce said in the most infuriatingly casual tone possible, “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about that ‘make out’ part.”

Hal promptly decided that bleeding out might actually be the preferable option.

#batlantern #request #sam writes #answered #i should be working on my other fic #but i like answering requests #and this was super fun to write

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turtleblogatlast · 1 year ago

Text

Leo frowns at his phone.

Or more specifically, at the test on his phone.

Around him, he hears the sound of his brothers tapping their own devices, much faster than he is. Looking up just makes Leo feel worse about his own progress - or lack-thereof.

Mikey’s the fastest, speeding through the test like nobody’s business. He’d been the one to make them all do this stupid test in the first place, so it makes sense that he’s having a blast.

Raph’s slower than Mikey is, but he’s still clearly answering the questions at a steady pace. Sometimes he looks unsure, but he powers through anyway.

Donnie often looks frustrated, which relieves Leo somewhat because at least someone is struggling like him. But that “struggle” isn’t nearly as big as his own, considering that Donnie is answering about as fast as Raph is.

Leo turns his gaze back down to his own test. He’s still near the beginning, he thinks.

He’d put the same answer for the past seven questions - the middle of the road answer, neither a “yes” or a “no.” Then, whenever he does come across one that is more one direction than the other, he second guesses himself and restarts the test!

Sure, there are a few he could definitely give a yes or a no to, but…never the “strongly agree” or “strongly disagree” that the test seemed to want from him.

He eyes his twin sitting nearby, the softshell absorbed in the test. Maybe Leo should copy what Donnie put for some of these…

“DONE!” Mikey’s shout makes Leo freeze in place just as he started to lean over.

“What?” Donnie squawks, “No way you’re already finished, you must’ve been cheating!”

“It’s a personality test, Dee!” Mikey stuck his tongue out, “You can’t cheat at those!”

…

Leo settles back into his seat.

Ignoring Donnie’s mutterings about how it was “just because it’s not an academic test” that he didn’t finish first, Raph smiles encouragingly at Mikey.

“Hey, good job! So what’d you get, Mike?”

Mikey looks back down at his test, reading aloud, “Says that I got the “Campaigner”!”

“What’s that mean?” Leo asks, his phone screen going dark.

“Apparently, I’m an “enthusiastic, creative, and sociable free-spirit”.” Mikey reads, smiling at them, “You think it fits?”

“Oh, to a T, bro!” Leo laughs, giving Mikey a thumbs up, making Mikey’s smile grow larger.

Inside, Leo was feeling a lot more mixed about this. He has no idea how Mikey knew himself so well. Maybe Donnie was right and Mikey did cheat, because how could he answer those questions so easily?

Leo’s phone burns in his hand. He keeps it locked.

“Wow, that really is you.” Raph says, his eyes flitting back and forth between his own test and Mikey, “Do you think it fits?”

“I guess? It’s fun to see at least!” Mikey shrugs with a grin.

“Hold on, I think…” Raph makes a noise of satisfaction, “Okay, done!”

“Sigh, now I’m relegated to the straggler group.” Donnie grumbles, his thumbs moving faster as he tries rushing through the questions.

“Ooh, what’d you get Raph?” Mikey asks, practically bouncing in curiosity.

“Says, uh…I got something called the “Consul”?” He squints his eyes to read more, “Uh, “caring, social, and community-minded.””

“Sounds about right to me.” Leo nods. Can’t be more “community-minded” than being a hero.

“Yeah, no one’s more caring than you, Raphie!” Mikey says, moving to lean across Raph’s shell.

“You do put the community in mind, that’s for sure.” Donnie states, not looking up.

Raph chuckles, a bit embarrassed, “Aw, thanks. It’s just some test, but it feels kinda good to hear that.”

Just a test. Right.

Leo unlocks his screen.

The test stares back at him.

Right. Okay. He can do this. He can.

The screen ends up going dark again.

Frustration builds up in Leo. Was he even halfway done with the test? At this rate, soon even Donnie will-

“FINISHED.”

Leo unlocks his phone.

“What’d you get, DonTon?” Leo asks as his thumb taps the top right of the screen.

Donnie puffs up proudly, a self sure grin on his face, “I got the result “Logician” which states that I, obviously, am an “innovative inventor with a thirst for knowledge.” Truly could not have described me better, if I do say so myself.”

“It is pretty accurate.” Raph agrees with a nod, “Even calls you an inventor, so extra accurate.”

“Super accurate.” Mikey jumps in, eyes shining.

“Yes, yes, almost like reading my own character synopsis.” Donnie’s grin had not dwindled since the word “innovative” had left his mouth.

Leo just nods along, eyes on his own screen as he skims the words. “Yeah, kinda creepy how close it got. Could have called you a nerd for extra accuracy, though.”

Donnie turns to him, eyes narrowing, “Have you even finished your test? I can think of a few words that’d describe you fairly well.”

“Test-y, huh?”

Before Donnie can strangle Leo, Raph cuts in.

“Ok, ok, calm it down, guys.” He rolls his eyes before turning to Leo. “But really, you’re not done yet?”

“Leo’s taking this self reflection seriously.” Mikey sports a faux intellectual expression as he gives a jokingly serious nod. “Maybe we all should’ve taken our time.”

“Says the one who sped through the whole thing in a record time.” Donnie mutters.

Leo waves them all off, “Nah, I finished it ages ago.”

He grins when Donnie immediately shoots him a suspicious glare. “Oh, you did, did you? Then what could you have possibly gotten, Nardo?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Leo clears his throat, “Neon Leon just so happens to be an “Entertainer.””

“Ah. That confirms it. This test is meaningless.” Donnie drones.

“Hey-“

“What’s an Entertainer like?” Mikey asks with a tilt of his head, still hanging off of Raph’s shell.

“Glad you asked, Miguel!” Leo exclaims, “It says that “life is never boring” around yours truly~”

He emphasizes this “result” of his by waving his phone with said “result” on screen.

It’s just an image he found of his chosen personality result, but they don’t need to know that.

Raph nods slowly, “Well, I guess that’s true…”

“”Never boring” is one way to put it.” Donnie hums.

“You are pretty fun, Leo!” Mikey says emphatically, because he’s great like that.

“Thank you, thank you, life of the party, right here.” Leo grins, pointing both thumbs at himself.

He’s careful not to go too overboard with it, or else it might tip someone off.

Not that it…really matters. It’s just a test. Like Raph said.

As the topic around him shifts to something else, jumping away from this brief activity as fast as any other among them, Leo finds himself unlocking his phone and pulling up the test again.

Unanswered questions stare at him. He knows what answers Lou Jitsu would pick. He knows what answers Jupiter Jim would pick. Hell, he knows exactly what answers his brothers would pick.

He doesn’t know what answers Leonardo would pick.

Leo stares at the test for a second longer, before he exits the site and throws himself into the conversation happening around him.

It’s just a stupid test, nothing to worry about.

Just a test…

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #rottmnt headcanons #rise leo #could not ignore this idea that hit my brain haha #if you disagree with me on what personality types I gave the boys that’s fine tbh #picked mbti since it was the first one I thought of but again it like most of these tests isn’t super worth putting stock into #these tests are kinda dumb anyway but they’re fun to take #for some #anyway I love thinking about Leo struggling with his sense of identity #and in turn struggling with what is a persona and what is HIM #how much is a mask how much is built from taking traits from others how much is real how much is fake #even he doesn’t know #protagonist is probably a good choice for leo but I’m also tied to him secretly being the introverted type as well so #bit more of an ambivert maybe #he’s got aspects of a lot of them hence the difficulty answering questions #well most of his difficulty comes from an uncertainty of who he really is #again what is him and what is his mask #or masks #what even is his true self if his self is someone he’s never bothered to meet #a lot of the little details of his personality - the parts of him that we see peek out throughout the series and often on his own -#- they align with personality types that you would never think of when looking at him and his masks at face value #that’s not to say it’s all masks - he’s a goofy guy at his core - but he’s more than he lets on and we’re made privy to that in subtle ways #though fr protagonist is prob Leo’s most likely result

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