#Misadventures of Reflections

[woofzy-the-flowery-sheep-dragon]

Hi! Re-doing my pinned post because I don't like how I formatted it. Here are some things you need to know about my blog!

1) this is a melting pot of whatever I come up with. It's supposed to be an ask blog, but there will be random stuff.

2) I'm still trying to figure this whole "post on Tumblr" thing out, so please be a bit lenient with me.

3) There will be a TON of OC's, I tend to make new OC's on a whim and I'm trying to learn how to code to make my own game (that has about 20+ OC's).

4) I'll use different tags and abbreviations for different characters, and I'll try to give the main ones their own fonts/colors. If you see a tag with "C.:" at the start, that is the in-universe version of me talking. I'll try to keep it simple to show who's talking, but if there are no tags, then it's just out of character.

5) While I send out my best wishes for people currently suffering (no matter what they're suffering from), I CAN'T DO ANYTHING. I wish I could help, but I can't.

6) I'm currently in multiple fandoms, so expect to see random stuff I either draw or reblog from others (any and all art tips are appreciated!)

7) I made some of my own tags (I think?), and you can find them at the bottom of any post relating to that subject. ("Creator's notes", "thank you for your time", "Woofzy' rambles", ect.)

8) More stuff will be added to this when I think of better things to add or subtract. Until then, enjoy scrolling! (But no doom scrolling)

BELOW IS ALL EDITED/ADDED ON/AFTER 3/18/25 (I like keeping track)

9) I'm currently working on a horror game (most like 3D or a "point and click") called "Lucid Terrors". It's the main universe my characters are in whenever I reference my main OC's. Hopeful release year is somewhere in 2030 to 2035 (no promises).

10) Although I don't post frequently, I'm now trying to start posting regularly (or more frequently) since I make drawings I want to post almost everyday (I forget. Outta sight, outta mind) All ideas/sketch requests are welcome! (No promises on amount of effort or soon post)

11) If a few months to maybe a year, I want to open commissions (limited availability, it all depends on school/work) and any suggestions or tips are welcome!

BELOW IS ADDED/EDITED ON/AFTER 5/27/25

Haven't really figured out links yet, but here's a shot.

Link(s):

Main ref sheet (Lucid Terrors), Secondary ref sheet (Lucid Terrors), Sea Character ref sheet (Pressure), Urbanshade Jebel Frostsite (Pressure AU/ref), Forsaken design sheet, Misadventures of Reflections (ref sheets), Misadventures of Reflections (master page), Troubles in the Stars (ref sheet), Troubles in the Stars (master page)

Character asks are welcome! They can be anonymous or not, all you have to do is say who you want the question for or which universe you want to ask the question to (questions with unspecified targets will get a response from everyone in that respective universe or whichever one I think would respond the best)

Thanks for stopping by!

[bougiebutchbinch]

gotta say it's very funny having requested all clinical notes for my case before I move to a different part of the country

and seeing a couple doctors arguing over me ksldlkdshkjdsg

just to say please don't send in any asks requesting details about my medical situation.... it's very complex, very miserable, and very private. ABSOLUTELY no hard feelings - I understand curiosity! I myself am very fascinated by disease! It's kinda my job lmao! But I've had a couple asks that I didn't want to answer and just deleted, and this is why xxx

[hi-im-greenjunipertree]

wtf was I thinking? This is just if Backyard Tower! Jocinda was in Backyard Misadventures /hj I just called this variant of Jocinda "Jocinda's reflection" or some shit. I even tried to draw her in a mirror to show that she is just some crazy reflection of Jocinda.

Idk how to feel about this. All else I can say is I had fun with her dumbass expression.

[daybreak-avenue]

It’s November!

While I felt the end-of-the month blues- And, now, a smidge of regret for having not done more with that time- I’m happy to have participated in Tumblr’s boop free-for-all!

Here’s to a new month!

And fuck NaNoWriMo (the organization- ill keep my thoughts on the challenge to myself for the sake of this post).

[woundrous-thing]

felt sooooo sane and normal about a fictional character for a moment that i started doing pushups on the floor at 2:59am i am going to crawl out of my own skin cicada style in a moment if this continues chat

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

Tonchikan Feast BW2…

[divinebronzegoddess]

Grey Reflections: Episode 58—The Audacity of Some People!

If you would like to “Buy Me a Glass of Wine,” you can click this link or the ***DONATE*** link at the bottom of the menu on the left.  I guess I’m predictable… All previous disclaimers apply… Episode 58—The Audacity of Some People! CHRISTIAN “What is it?” I ask again, my brow furrowed. Jason is barking into his phone like his ass is on fire and I need to know what’s going on right now. He holds…

[lauralot89]

More actual things that happen in the 1897 Dracula novel without context, as people kept pointing out things I'd missed:

The entire plot happens because Dracula is a teaboo

A character proposes marriage with a scalpel in hand and keeps playing with it throughout the conversation

Dracula roasts a chicken

A vampire bat (not a vampire) somehow drinks enough of a horse's blood to cause the horse to collapse

Dracula gets smacked in the face with a shovel

After attributing nightmares to paprika consumption, a character eats more paprika for breakfast

The heroes hire a locksmith to make their home invasion look more respectable

To prepare for raiding a vampire's lair, one character brings three small dogs

A character laments being unable to wed multiple people at once

A therapist starts speculating about elephants' souls mid-session

An official cause of death is written as "misadventure in falling from bed"

Dracula has a Krampus-esque sack that he shoves children into

A character realizes that his host has no reflection but is more concerned with shaving than investigating that

A reporter brags about his running speed mid-article

Dracula, while trying to maintain a low profile, goes by the incredibly subtle alias "de Ville"

A character is misled by phonetic spelling

A character receives three marriage proposals in one day

The SPCA tries to adopt Dracula

A doctor refers to a patient as his "pet lunatic"

We are told vampires can be defeated by putting branches on their coffins

A character gets slashed at with a knife and loot splatters on the floor, like a video game NPC

Dracula is a horsegirl

A character brings anti-vampire flowers but doesn't tell anyone the purpose of said anti-vampire flowers, which leads to another character moving them and enabling a vampire attack

A character's hair turns from dark to white literally overnight

Twice in the novel, Dracula says "Bah!" The second time is his final line of dialogue

There's a deleted scene of Dracula lying on top of the protagonist and licking him for hours

[cosmogyros]

[a Facebook memory of mine from six years ago today]

(not very exciting) STORY TIME! I wanted an iced coffee this morning so I went to the bakery on the corner, and they make hot coffee drinks but apparently don't have the technology to combine ice cubes and coffee, so they sent me to the store next door, which was called "Eiscafé Kiosk" [Iced Coffee Kiosk], promisingly enough.

So I went in there and asked the kid behind the counter if I could get an Eiskaffee. Now, small problem with the German language: the word "Eis" means both "ice" and "ice cream". I wasn't fully awake yet, so I had forgotten about this.

Kid behind the counter (KBTC) said "Sure thing, let me just finish ringing up these other guys and then I'm on it!" (well, he said it in German, but that was the gist.) I saw a couple of burly dudes at the back of the store trying to figure out which beer they wanted, so I said no problem and chilled over to one side, out of the way.

I was still close enough to hear their interaction while attempting to check out, though. They were speaking some Slavic language to the KBTC that he clearly didn't understand, but I did (if you're wondering how I can understand a language without even knowing what language it is, it's because most Slavic languages sound incredibly similar to me). The guys didn't understand the price for the six-pack they wanted.

One of them kept asking something that sounded like "shest dvadsat?" (again, I didn't know what language it was, but I knew that means "six twenty") and the KBTC was replying "Fünf Euro zwanzig" (five euros twenty), so without thinking I explained to the customer in my all-but-forgotten Croatian "Ne shest, pet. Pet dvadeset"* (Not six, five. Five twenty).

Now, I don’t know much Russian, but I guess what I just said must sound about the same in Croatian and Russian, because the guy responded “Spasibo��� to me and I immediately realized he was Russian.

AWKWARD!!! BECAUSE LAST NIGHT CROATIA BEAT RUSSIA IN THE QUARTER-FINALS OF THE WORLD CUP! AND RUSSIA'S HOSTING THE CUP THIS YEAR! AND HERE I AM SPEAKING CROATIAN TO A RUSSIAN WHO LOOKS LIKE HE COULD SQUASH ME WITH ONE HAND WITHOUT EVEN LETTING GO OF HIS SIX-PACK WITH THE OTHER ONE!

But what I had said up to this point was so limited that I guess he hadn't yet realized I was speaking Croatian instead of just badly pronounced Russian! Dodged a bullet, right?

WRONG. BECAUSE I'M DUMB. The Russian dudes passed me on the way out and said something friendly in Russian to me, assuming I must be one of them, and my traitorous tongue replied: "Zhao mi je, ne razumijem ruski"* [I'm sorry, I don't understand Russian] - and the penny dropped. The speed with which their smiles vanished was breathtaking. I might as well have ordered a hot coffee after that, the atmosphere was so cold.

So anyway, that's basically the end of the story except that then the KBTC put some coffee in a glass and added THREE SCOOPS OF VANILLA ICE CREAM PLUS WHIPPED CREAM and presented it to me with a big smile, because that's apparently what you get if you order iced coffee in this godforsaken country.

* (sorry for lack of correct accents, I don't have the motivation to download a whole new keyboard layout just for this post)

[vermanaward]

hector hectorson: okay so for p6 limit cut i'mma recommend this entirely unnecessarily movement heavy strat, because [checks notes] caster uptime also hector hectorson: [the most needlessly movement heavy strat for classical 2 on this green earth] [not so much as a peep about casters]

[sunderwight]

thinking more about a scenario where Bingge's world is just, fundamentally unstable.

because the System mostly created him for the punishment protocol. before that he actually only did exist as a book character, and the "real" PIDW world was the SVSSS world. but then after manifesting Bingge the System created a reality where he did exist, except it doesn't have the same degree of substance or cohesiveness as the SV world. plus, it has all the narrative asspulls Airplane was increasingly worse about as his writing devolved, and all of the contrivances and plotholes that never made it into the SV world and subsequently never threw anything out of alignment either. the SV world was built from Airplane's most stable creative phase, and went on and diverged from there. but Bingge's world was created from the final PIDW canon, which is a mess.

so it's just like... not at all stable. it's not just that Bingge himself is also a wildly unstable guy, his entire world reflects this in that it is a mess of interwoven contradictions that is constantly folding in on itself and collapsing in places. stuff like, in some chapters Airplane messed up and got certain wives confused, but he confused them consistently for big portions of the story. thereby completely muddying the waters of which wife actually had which backstory or personality. so there's this segment of Bingge's harem comprised of these eldritch abomination interchangeable women-shaped entities that have no true sense of individual self, instead constantly melting and merging into one another.

combining the realms would be the watsonian explanation for why Bingge's dimension is so fucked up, of course. but even if that hadn't been part of PIDW canon it would still be an intensely weird situation.

Bingmei lying awake at night, deeply disquieted because all he told his husband about his trip to the other world was that he woke up in a strange place with a lot of women, and unless he's got a good reason that's what he's gonna leave it at because that place was freakier than the Abyss and Shizun already gets upset just contemplating Binghe trapped there. also he isn't sure how to explain the concept of six overlapping skies and the labyrinthine palace that was many places in one and the spots where it seemed like reality just ended and opened in a great, yawning void that none of the other people around him even seemed to notice.

his very own cosmic horror misadventure that he's pretty sure is what would have become of the world if he hadn't met his husband. lol. he's just like, sure on an emotional level it would make sense that reality would lose all cohesion in that case, but he's also pretty sure it's not literally supposed to do that?

Bingmei trying really hard to figure out the potential impact of comphet on physics.

[aliceramblez]

Dating The BroZone Brothers 🎤🎶

Tags: Gender-neutral reader, Fluff, Some Angst (mostly for Branch lol), Also Broppy isn't canon here, obviously. But I love them dearly so don't come at me!

Follow me @taruchinator for more structured content and/or feel free to leave a request here in asks. Enjoy!

John Dory

We all know this man is a bit self-centered, and that doesn't stop at your relationship.

He'll find any opportunity to show off for you— anything from singing, to dancing, to just his ‘incredible leadership skills that make him the perfect boyfriend!’

He also definitely introduced himself as a member of the old boy band BroZone, which you may or may not have heard of, which may or may not have left him flabbergasted.

Despite all his faults though, John Dory will do his best to be a good partner for you. It's what you deserve, after all!

Keeping you safe from wild creatures, making sure you're always happy because he loves your smile, and also being the overprotective boyfriend who'll square off against anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable even if they're 10x his size.

Small detail, but he also loves the fact that Rhonda took a liking to you instantly.

“She knows how to pick the good ones,” he'd say with a wink.

Talks about his brothers CONSTANTLY, but always in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't care and that it's their fault the band broke up in the first place. He obviously really cares about them, though.

Some nights, he'll reflect and regret all the stuff he said and did to them, and wishes he could go back and make it right. You reassure him through most of it, trying to convince him that he was young and just didn't know any better.

He stares at you in awe and disbelief because how could ANYONE think that what he did was justifiable? Abandoning his younger siblings all because of his stupid ego and personal insecurities.

“I really don't deserve you...”

Give him some time he's just emotionally constipated.

Also you BET he's gonna show you off to his brothers once they're reunited, so just let him. He just wants the most important people in his life to meet.

You can also expect them to try and embarrass John Dory with stories from their childhood, so be ready to have a good laugh as your boyfriend plots for murder in the background.

Spruce/Bruce

Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.

He is a family man, after all.

Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute, it really is! But that just indicates that he has a way with children.

If you have a child or younger sibling, expect them to get dotted and taken care of to DEATH by this man.

He may not have been the sensitive one of the group, but was definitely the most reliable of the eldest, so he's got experience handling little trouble makers that come his way.

He still opens a cantina in Vacay Island, which is where you two met for the first time, and so you help run it occasionally whenever you have the chance. And even though you don't go there 24/7, all the regulars just think that you're the co-owner since you're dating Bruce.

You're the one who finds out that he's actually ‘Spruce’, the member of old boy band BroZone. You just happened to stumble upon an old record he kept in his room, and after confronting him about it, he reluctantly confirms your suspicions.

It was hard to recognize him since he was much older now and his body had definitely... grown over the years.

Bruce doesn't like preaching about those days, since he's quite embarrassed of the ‘immature ladies man’ he used to be back then.

But he won't deprive you of them either, since he'll happily share any stories on his misadventures with his brothers, funny backstage incidents, etc.

He misses them dearly and wishes they're all doing okay.

Two words: Hopeless. Romantic.

He's ‘The Heart Throb’ for a reason.

Roses, chocolates, dances— he can do it all!

Bruce will always make time in his busy schedule to spend time with you, taking you on dates to your favorite spots around the island, getting you meaningful gifts, and just overall expressing his love for you in any way he can.

He loves singing to you because it always serenades you and it puts a smile on his face.

People always joke that he's going to propose to you out of the blue one of these days, which always leaves him a flustered mess, but he never denies either.

“What can I say? I might be waiting for the perfect opportunity...”

Clay

Poor baby doesn't know what he's doing but he's trying, okay?

The two of you meet in the abandoned Bergen Golf Course, where you and Viva welcome him with open arms, and everything pretty much plays as in the movie, except that he really likes spending time with you and ONLY you, which he doesn't quite understand?

You're the one to ask him out cause otherwise you'd be playing this back and forth forever. He says yes.

He's never had a partner before, so he's justifiably worried that he'll mess up in some way, or that you'll end up finding him too boring after a while.

This becomes much more apparent after a particular bad night, in which after mumbling incoherently because of a nightmare, you find out that he has brothers and used to be in a boy band.

He doesn't open up about it at first, so you give him some space and reassure him that you'll be there when he needs you. Just give him some time and he'll tell you eventually.

He talks about how he could never be himself, since he was always expected to be ‘The Fun One’, and now he's basically tried to become the complete opposite in hopes of gaining some control over his life.

But he also worries that others will think he's too dull, and that he just isn't interesting enough to be around. Especially you.

You immediately take his face in your hands and look him in the eyes.

“I fell in love with Clay. Not ‘The Fun Troll from BroZone’ Clay. Also, you're fun in your own way!”

He basically falls for you all over again after hearing this.

After that, he becomes slightly less uptight and allows himself to enjoy the little things. You sometimes actually catch him dancing when he thinks no one's looking and you find it's the most adorable thing in the world, even after he realizes he's not alone and wants the earth to swallow him whole.

“Don't mind me, I'mma just crawl in a hole for a while...”

“No, no- Babe, it was amazing! I loved it! Pleaseeee show me more!”

Overall, he's a pretty good boyfriend all things considered.

He's incredibly overprotective of you, and will always give you advice and tools he thinks will be helpful if you're thinking of venturing outside of the Golf Course.

He asks Viva for dating advice CONSTANTLY and she DOES NOT let him live it down. Of course she has good ideas, though.

He'll pretty much do anything for you, even if it means going out of his comfort zone.

Floyd

Another great candidate for being in a good relationship.

Need I explain myself with this man?

His entire personality revolves around being caring and understanding, so he's definitely always on the lookout for anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable and will fix it ASAP.

Floyd is the kind of person who will ask for consent with pretty much anything you do— from holding your hand, to kissing you, to giving you a hug; he will ALWAYS make sure that you're okay with it even if you've given him the green light in the past.

He's not huge on PDA due to his somewhat shy nature, but if you are, he'll try his best to keep up with you.

This doesn't mean he dislikes physical affection, in fact it's his love language. He'll go out of his way to try and sneak in as many hugs as possible throughout the day and maybe a kiss or two if you'll allow it, which of course you do.

You also try your best to get involved in his own interests, because that's only fair after everything he does for you.

It isn't until one day that he sings for you that you compliment him and he nonchalantly comments that he used to be in a band when he was a teenager.

Cue the reveal of him having four brothers and you begging him to tell you all about them.

Which he does, but you can't help but notice the melancholic expression on his face, so you immediately stop him and apologize for being pushy on the matter and that he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to talk about.

He only looks at you with a small smile and shakes his head.

“No, I'm glad you asked. I haven't talked about them in years, so I like remembering the good times, even if they're in the past now.”

So he'll go on and on about them, one by one, and go into excruciating detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. He's especially fond of his little brother Branch, based on everything he tells you.

When he gets kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer, you immediately go to Branch for help.

Once you're reunited, you two basically run to each other and hug with tears streaming down your eyes.

“Did they hurt you?!”

“No, I'm okay! Did they hurt you?!”

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

Floyd is then incredibly happy to introduce you to his brothers, who begin to affectionately tease him about getting himself a partner and you happily step in to protect him from any unwanted bullying.

You also tell him that you like the new hairdo, which only causes him to giggle and kiss your forehead affectionately.

Honestly you guys probably have the healthiest relationship out of the whole group.

Branch

I was really debating whether to include him or not since there's many Branch Reader Inserts out there, but I don't wanna leave my baby out so here we are!

You have a classic childhood friends to lovers situation with him, since you've known him ever since he was a member of BroZone, only being about a year older than him.

You'd help him practice for his concerts and would always give him pep talks whenever he felt worried that he'd ruin the show.

You're basically his number one fan— never missing a concert even if it meant dragging your parents with you so they'd let you get in.

The moment the group disbands and Branch is left all alone, you're there for him and wait alongside him for his brothers to return, reassuring him that ‘siblings would never break a promise’.

Cue his whole childhood trauma and him losing his colors, but it's only because of you that he doesn't completely isolate himself from society. He still builds his bunker though, since he's pretty much scarred for life thanks to the Bergens.

Just like with Clay, you're the one who takes initiative and asks him out, and he's just left gaping like a fish because why would you want someone like HIM?

After reuniting with John Dory, he's also dotting you about how big you've gotten and treats you like a baby, which actually irks Branch much more than it does to him.

He makes sure to remind his brothers that you both are grown adults, thank you very much.

Once the band gets back together, you kinda become a manager of some kind and help them in organizing their performances. Branch is eternally grateful and thanks you for staying by his side all these years.

[thargelalia]

Love at first shot - pt. 1

jason todd x fem!reader

adulting is hard, especially when you need to deal with Gotham's misadventures and its crazy ass vigilantes

or alternatively, this is how you meet Red Hood for the first time

-> +5k words

-> slight dark content, mild angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers

-> warnings: violence; guns; blood; lots of swearing; mentions of drug dealing, and organized crime; poor attempt at humor; reader is unhinged, don't mess with her; jason looks like could kill you, and he could, but he's also a cinnamon roll <3

The hospital’s fluorescent lights contrast sharply with the dim orange glow of Gotham’s street lamps as you step outside. The cold autumn air nips at your face, a welcome break from the stuffy, sterile environment of the hospital. You’re exhausted but find a small sense of accomplishment as you reflect on your day. 

Dr. Joshi had pulled you aside earlier to express her satisfaction with your work performance so far, and you couldn’t be happier. She did warn you, though, to ‘take it easy’ because professor Chinwe apparently had a chat with her about your tendency to forgo any sense of self-care in order to achieve perfect results. 

Or whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

There was no sleeping on a scholarship before, and there’s certainly no sleeping on a residency now. No time for slacking off. You’re not going back to counting pennies to buy subway tickets again. Or choosing between having lunch or dinner because you can only afford one. Or mending shoes countless times until the soles effectively fall off and there’s nothing else to be done. Sure, you’re still not rich. But you’ve managed to successfully move from the dorms into a small apartment in Burnley. That’s a hell of an accomplishment already.

These are some of the thoughts that accompany you home during the bus ride home.

Desperate for a hot shower and yesterday’s leftovers, you climb the stairs leading to the second floor with what energy is left in your body. A yawn escapes your lips as you trudge through the corridor, feet stopping at the mat saying make yourself at home (but remember you’re not there). 

Much to your horror, the door to your apartment is ajar. 

Light escapes through the crack. 

Muffled sounds of struggle and stuff breaking are coming from the inside. 

Also, another thing.

You live alone. 

Shit.

Now, a reasonable person would probably back away slowly and hide, immediately calling the police. 

A reasonable person would be desperate and frightened to the core. 

But you’re not exactly a reasonable person. 

You’re a first year medical resident that spent the day busting your ass off only to come home and find… your cousin fighting – or better, trying to survive – the Red Hood in the middle of your living room.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” You eye the mess of broken vases, dirt spread on the floor, chairs thrown across the room, fallen paintings and shards of glass everywhere, until it stops on both figures at the center of the chaos. Red Hood’s hulking frame is hunched over your cousin, grasping his collar. His other hand freezes mid punch in the air. “Ezra???”

Ezra, your cousin, muttered a weak response akin to your name and a plea for help. Black eye swollen shut and multiple contusions of equal color all over his slender body. You’re surprised he’s not passed out yet. He’s close, though. 

Red Hood drops your cousin to the floor, straightening his posture. He looks twice as big now – if that’s even possible. Dark suit, accents of red on his chest and helmet, looms over you. You’d certainly be intimidated had it not been for the fact that you were fuming. 

These motherfuckers thrashed your entire place.

“This fucking dirtbag is dealing stolen meds and guns through my turf. To kids. He’s lucky I’m not dumping him in the harbor.” A deep modulated voice speaks menacingly.

Oh, yeah. Right. Your family’s aware of Ezra’s illicit activities. Just not the true extent of it. As it’s well known, whoever looks for trouble in Gotham, finds it fast. Or even if you don’t go looking. Like you at the moment. In any case, everyone had already tried to put some sense into Ezra’s head several times, but ultimately he’s a grown man. Dropped out of high school, told everyone to fuck off and said he was now going to do his own thing. 

Sometimes you felt guilty for not trying harder but over the years you realized it’s impossible to help someone who doesn’t want help.

“I can’t even—” you try to process his words, only for your lips to draw back in a snarl. “And what the hell makes you think you’re entitled to kick his ass at my place?!”

“I only followed his tracks here.” Red Hood has the audacity to shrug. “Got the drop on him before he could steal your shit. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Not much to steal now, huh? Is this your way of stopping house robbery?” you’re seething, gesturing wildly around like a madwoman. “Can’t steal what’s broken into pieces, jackass!”

“Your boyfriend told you that?”

“Go to hell!”

“Already did.”

A moan of pain snags your attention to the floor. Damn. You’d forgotten about Ezra. Red Hood approaches him again, seemingly wanting to finish the job.

“Wait!” You hold your hands out to stop him. “Don’t do this. Let me handle him.”

“Nobody fucks with me and lives to tell the story, doc.”

You choose to believe he knows your profession only because he’s seen the graduation pics before getting into action with Ezra. And not because he already had intel on you. Or had stalked you before due to Ezra’s stupidity. 

“Oh, yeah? And how about me? You fucked with me!” Whole face is now burning as you practically yell. “You’ve no idea how long it took me to finally be able to rent a place and buy my own shit! You self-righteous vigilantes need to get off your fucking high horses and actually see the amount of damage you cause under the excuse of ‘helping’! So do me a fucking favor and fuck off!”

You’re out of breath by the end of your outburst. There’s a beat of silence before Ezra starts contorting himself on the floor while coughing out blood. Red Hood looks between you and him, seemingly contemplating his next move.

“As you wish, then. He’s your fucking problem now. But if this son of a bitch shows his weasel face near my turf again, I’ll get him clipped.” You crouch down next to Ezra as the vigilante backs away and swings one leg over the windowsill. “One more thing, doc.”

You snap your head to him. “Play it smart with your words next time. Not everyone will be nice like me.”

Unfortunately, he’s out the window before you have a chance to flip him the middle finger.

“Shit. What am I gonna do with you now?” You heave a sigh, beginning to assess the damage in your cousin’s body. 

There’s a brief moment in which you consider just leaving him there like that and deal with everything in the morning. After all, you’re exhausted and it’s not your fault he got what he went looking for. 

The only thing left to do is to patch Ezra up and get him off the floor and onto the couch as he’s completely out now. His heartbeat and breathing are slow but steady despite everything, so he’ll live. Probably going to need a trip to the hospital to check for internal bleeding tomorrow, though. That is if he wants to, which you doubt. And also if you don’t decide to dump him in the river yourself until then. 

Grabbing a broom, a trash bag, disinfectants,  and other products, you clean what you can from the mess strewn across the place, not forgetting to scrub the small pool of blood off the floor. Good news is apparently Red Hood managed to catch him in the living room and kept the destruction there. Sadly, you’ll have to replace your brand new TV, three of your poor plants, an armchair, a few portraits and chairs. 

Tidying everything up as much as possible, you left to go straight into the shower; falling into bed face first afterwards, not even bothering with blankets. 

Walking into the living room the next morning and discovering you hadn’t dreamed at all about last night shattered your inner peace, anger rushing back in tidal waves. You were supposed to be getting ready for work now but instead you’re calling Dr. Joshi, bargaining to work an entire night shift in order to deal with family business this morning.  

After that, you’re dumping a whole bucket of cold water on Ezra for him to “wake the fuck up, bitch”.

You give him several pieces of your mind, threatening to bestow his face with another black eye to match the other one when he dares to intervene. The only reason why you won’t press charges against him is solely to prevent your aunt and uncle from having a heart attack. 

When you’re done, Ezra only provides a half-assed apology about things going out of his control, arguing that Red Hood is a “deranged psycho on steroids”, and that you should be more understanding of the situation as a family. But when he actively calls you selfish, saying you always got it easy as a student and now as a doctor, and thus have no right to be bitching about money, you lose it completely. 

The feral scream that comes from the depths of your soul is enough to make him bolt out the door without looking back, injuries be damned and all, as you let yourself drop into the wet couch cushions with a sniff.

–//–

It’s the middle of the evening on another day off when your apartment is yet again invaded. 

This time by an enforcer claiming that Ezra listed your name as someone who could pay his trafficking debts. Wonderful. He gave this gang both your home and work address. 

The criminal barged in with a kick to the front door. Not even a peep heard from your neighbors. Not then, not now. 

Rather you than me. It’s the Gothamites way of life. 

You had just finished cleansing and moisturizing your face inside the bathroom when you heard the noise of wood splintering. Not fast enough to hide, the enforcer soon found you, pulling roughly on your upper arm and shoving you into the living room with even less care. 

So, yeah, now there’s a gun to your face. 

Despite your heart beating faster than a hummingbird wings, the knees wobbling, and sweat starting to coat your back, you try not to let desperation completely cloud your judgement. 

The criminal was demanding the cash, threatening to shoot in case you don’t hand it to him, stating he knows you got it, so there’d be no way out of this. Meanwhile, your brain tries to come up with a solution. 

Think. Think. Think. Think. 

Skimming through several mental philes in a flash.

Ah. 

Krav Maga. 

This one might work.

If it doesn’t, then… well. 

Let’s just say it was nice sticking around long enough to watch Beyoncé’s Coachella performance.

Through Delilah’s 144p resolution FaceTime call. But still.

“Oh, my God!” Looking past the guy, you exclaim. Mouth wide open. “Batman?!”

Instant terror cascades his features, eyes bulging out of their sockets, as he snaps his head to look behind him.

In a rush of adrenaline, you act quickly to disarm him by twisting the barrel away with one hand while the other simultaneously pushes his wrist down. You slide back swiftly as the criminal cries out in pain — thumb got caught in the trigger, most likely being broken now. Good. 

“You bitch.” Hand cradled to his chest, he glowers at you in fury from a hunched position. “Got the guts to shoot me now, huh? Aren’t you supposed to save lives?” 

“You know what I do but you don’t know me.” Mustering your best sinister smile, you try to keep a steady grip on the weapon, adding another hand to its bottom. “Hands up behind your neck, asshole. Slowly.”

Doing as told, he winces, trying to plead through gritted teeth. “Put down that gun, sweet cheeks. You don’t wanna do this.” 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” you start, cocking the pistol. Eyes never leaving him. “You are getting lost. Now. And if you, or any other piece of shit, ever come back, you will pay.” 

“You’ll regret this.” 

“Not as much as you.” A click of another gun. 

Red Hood. 

You’ve no idea how he got here unnoticed but instant relief floods your system. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

Two guns point at the enforcer who’s now positively shaking and sweating buckets. Looking like a helpless sheep cornered by two hungry wolves.  

Oh, how the tables have turned. 

“C’mon, guys… Two against one? Not fair.” A nervous laughter reveals his yellow teeth. “I was just following orders, I swear! Don’t shoot the messenger, as they say.” 

“Just shut the fuck up.” In a swift motion Red Hood swings his gun upward, the solid metal butt striking the enforcer’s forehead, sending him sprawling to the ground. Then he turns. “You okay?”

Unable to come up with words, you simply nod. Lowering trembling hands, trying to take deep breaths as Red Hoods watches on.

“I’ll deal with this bastard outside.” He informs and you nod once again, extending your hand as a silent invitation for him to take the criminal’s glock. 

Tucking it into one of his holsters, he then picks up the unconscious body, throws it over the shoulder like a sack of rice and leaves through the window.

You waste no time in scrambling to the bedroom to find your phone. 

Delilah picks up after a few rings and you feel bad for waking your best friend up as her tired voice sounds through the speaker. 

“Hon, you okay?”

“I-can I..can I crash at your place?”

“Of course… What happened?? You’re scaring me.”

You fill her into all the crazy shit you’ve been dealing with, thanks to your stupid ass cousin, while leaving the details for later. She’s absolutely horrified as expected. Since you’ve both been super busy recently, there hasn’t been a chance to talk about all this. A text seemed inappropriate. 

Delilah asks how you’ll get to her apartment since she’s taken her car in for a revision, and you just tell her not to worry, promising to be there shortly. Ending the call, you hurriedly grab your stuff and throw everything necessary for a couple of days inside a backpack. 

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you pay no mind to the chilling wind, intending to run as fast as possible to Delilah’s block. 

Out of a sudden, a prickling sensation spreads through your arms, making all the hairs stand up. 

Somebody’s watching you.

As you turn around, you jump when spotting a familiar figure leaning on their shoulder, arms and legs crossed, almost fully concealed by shadows. “The hell you’re still doing here?!” 

“Just tryna scare you. Good to see it worked.” Before you can open your mouth to curse him, his entire bloodline, every vigilante in Gotham city and their predecessors, Red Hood continues on a more serious note, “That son of a bitch won’t be a problem anymore.”

The enforcer. Right. 

“D-did you kill him?” You hate the way your voice wavers. 

“Sure you wanna know?” He leans away from the brick wall and saunters in your direction, causing you to instantly take a step back.

“Seriously, why are you still here?”

He ignores your question, pointing at the backpack strapped on your back. “Where you’re going?”

“Fuck off. That’s none of your business.”

“I just made it my business.”

“I’ll knee you in the groin.” 

At that, his modulated voice makes a weird strangled noise that almost sounds like… 

Wait. Is he laughing at you?

“Tough words for someone wearing a sleeping cap and Snoopy pajamas.” Yep. He’s definitely laughing at you. “There’s more holes in your shirt than in the assholes I...”

You drown out his last sentence, focusing on your lower body. Old white cotton pants and a long sleeved shirt with Snoopy prints adorned your frame. Clearly, in your haste to get away, changing clothes was the furthest thing to mind. 

That means you faced the criminal that broke into your house like this, too.

Placing a hand on your head, you also feel a smooth fabric there.

Immediately, you rip it off.

“I-Fuck. Listen, these actually—” A pause. “You know what? I don’t have to explain myself to you. Fuck off!”

“Pretty sure you already said that.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until–stop staring!” 

His amused chuckle fills the air.

“How do you know I’m staring?” There’s a 99% chance he’s smiling behind that helmet and you just wish you could slap it off his face.

Instead, you huff and walk away, leaving him standing there. More out of frustration and sheer annoyance than to actually ditch him as this would be impossible. Indeed, he manages to catch up easily with his long legs. 

Then, turning on heels briskly, you brandish the pink satin fabric in front of his face. “By the way, this is called a bonnet.” 

“Duly noted, Snoopy.” He’s closer now. Not too much to make it uncomfortable, but enough to fully enclose a large gloved hand around yours. Somehow, he manages to soften the modulated voice. “I know you’re scared. But lashing out at me isn’t the answer, alright? I’m only here to make sure you get to your friend’s place in one piece.”

“I’m not–Wait. Never told you where I was going.” 

“Mmm, you did.” 

“I didn’t.” A gasp of realization leaves your lips. “You were spying on me!”

“My hearing is just sharp.”  

“Unlike your brain, apparently.” 

“Hilarious.” Judging by the flat tone, he must’ve rolled his eyes. “But seriously, let me walk you there. The streets are dangerous at this hour.”

Much to your dismay, he’s actually right. Being out in Gotham by yourself as a woman in the middle of the night is a terrible business. Best not to take any chances. 

“Fine…” You tug your hand back and start walking again, mumbling sarcastically, “what a gentleman.”

“Nope. Not even close,” he drawls, falling into step behind you. 

You don’t say anything back and neither does he. To his credit, he actually keeps a respectful distance. Even when the cold is too much and you halt to produce a jacket from the bag. Only the sound of your backpack rustling echo in the empty streets. Not a single soul in sight. 

This whole predicament is just so uncanny to you. Only a month ago your only knowledge of vigilantes came from sensationalist news outlets or frequent whispers and gossip at work whenever criminals were admitted to the ICU in a coma. 

Like most people, you’ve also seen the bat-signal reflected in the night sky multiple times.

But you’ve never actually seen one of them right in front of your eyes. Twice now. 

You chance a furtive glance behind. 

Thumbs hooked in his utility belt, Red Hood has his attention to the passing houses, leisurely putting one foot after the other as if he’s taking a stroll at the park. 

One would even think he’s distracted. But you know better.  

Feeling watched, he tilts his head in question, prompting you to immediately avert your eyes to the front. 

At some point, he offers to carry your backpack, but gets impatiently dismissed. 

The rest of the walk to Delilah’s block is silent.

“This is it.” You announce when you reach the familiar beige stone building. He patiently waits as you climb the first two steps of the entrance and turn to him, standing eye to eye. “I appreciate your help tonight but I hope we won’t ever see each other again.”

“Ouch.” He clutches his chest in feigned hurt, wiping an invisible tear off the glowing white eyes. “How will I survive?”

“I don’t trust you, Red Hood.” You narrow your eyes, voice coming out more stern than intended. 

Silence. 

“You’re smart.” His tone is neutral. 

“Of course I am.” 

Again, silence.  

He lifts his fingers. 

And flicks. 

He flicks your forehead, completely catching you off guard.

Aside from your pride, nothing hurts, though. 

Then, he’s gesturing to your worn out pajamas. 

“You know, too bad I don’t have my wallet on me right now or I’d give you twenty bucks to replace those rags. Seriously, not even the homeless in Crime Alley—” 

“YOU—”

“I know, I know. I’ll gladly fuck off this time.” He cuts in, leaving the range of your clenched fists by gracefully sliding back. Hands up in mock surrender.  “Take care, Snoopy.”

–//–

After the entire ordeal of being held at gunpoint, nearly robbed, having your place broken in and thrashed, you decided to move to the other end of the neighborhood. A more busy but still fairly calm street. 

That doesn’t stop you from investing in sturdy locks for the windows and front door. 

No uninvited — and highly dangerous — guests this time.

Delilah let you stay with her for the days necessary to pull everything together. Despite the close ties you share, however, you really don’t like feeling like an intrusion. Not that she’s ever been unkind, quite the contrary actually. She loves having people over. The thing is once you get used to having your own space, it’s hard to live around others again.

Amidst the chaos of packing stuff and moving, you managed to take some time to visit your aunt and uncle. According to them, Ezra’s been arrested for drug trafficking, theft, and extortion. They were obviously crushed but understanding that there was nothing else to be done. You tried to show your support while hiding the relief of having one less problem to worry about. 

It’s a Tuesday night when you decide to get cozy on the sofa after an ordinary shift at the hospital. 

You’re tired, but not entirely exhausted. Just an ache in your bones. 

After a relaxing shower, you make some hot cocoa, pick up a book and dim the lights a little until sleep comes to find you. 

Contrary to your expectations, something else does. 

Trouble. 

In the shape of a black suit with a red bat insignia. 

A frantic knock on the glass window scares you into dropping your book to the floor. Scowling as you identify the source of disturbance. 

“Seriously, dude? What happened to fucking off for good?”

You reluctantly slide the windows open before he manages to crack them with his knuckles. He ducks his head in and drops unceremoniously to the ground, arms spread open.

“How did you even find me??” 

Noticing his chest heaving, you cross your arms and wait for him to catch his breath. 

“Need... a.. minute.” It’s all he manages to get out. 

Huffing in disbelief, you close the window and get comfortable on the couch again. No one’s keeping you from enjoying the little free time you haven’t had in a while. 

There’s a sound of careful footsteps. “I swear to God, if you dirty my house with those boots I’ll—” 

“Shhhh.” He lifts a finger to where his lips are, behind the helmet. “Don’t worry, Snoopy. I’ll leave soon.” 

“Still haven’t told me what you’re doing or how you found me.” 

He looks around and points at your armrest. “Mind if I sit?”

Tsking, you shut your book and drop it on the coffee table. “Go ahead. Not like I can stop you anyway.”

A deep sigh comes out as he flops down onto the soft cushions. He adjusts himself on the seat, legs widely spread, evidencing chunky meaty thighs. That’s definitely not a bad sight. Not that you’ll ever reveal this to him or anybody else whatsoever. 

“I know you’re not happy to see me again. But I actually needed to ditch someone. Some people. If you can actually consider them people.”

You lift an eyebrow as he says the last sentence almost inaudibly. 

“Why not just gun them down?” Your question drips with sarcasm. 

He hesitates. “They’re.. fast.”

At that, you shoot up from the couch. “And you risked bringing them here?? What the fuck?!”  

“What? No. No. Easy.” He tries to sound gentle and not make any sudden moves. As if dealing with a hostile cat. “I made sure they lost my tracks on the other side of town.” 

“How can you be so sure??”

“Trust me. I’d never endanger you like that.” 

You fall back onto the couch. Head stuck between hands. Can’t believe you’re in this mess again.

“As for how I found you,” he goes on, thinking as he says, “uuh.. let’s say I asked around.”

“Asked around?” You eye him suspiciously, getting a vigorous nod in return. “To whom?”

“Mmm, I’ve my sources. The same that also let me know your jackass cousin went to jail.” 

“Yeah, that’s right.” A sigh leaves your lips at the reminder. “But being privy to my life without consent is called stalking, you know?”

“I understand. But, hey, I needed to know if you were alright so I could sleep at night.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. “Felt bad for destroying your things the other day.”

“Well, if you really want to compensate for the damage, start by getting me a new TV.” He laughs and stops when he sees you’re not following along. “I’m serious.”

He clears his throat. “Any preferences?”

“No less than a sixty-five inch screen. 4K resolution. Feel free to choose the brand.”

“Got it.” You’re not sure he actually means it. “Does that mean I get an invitation to visit you again?”

“Ha! Unbelievable. Just order it online or have someone else deliver it at my door.” 

“Why do you even need that big of a TV anyway? The previous one you had was fifty inches.” 

That’s shockingly accurate. How does he remember that? Why did he pay enough attention to that when invading your place to whoop your cousin’s ass? So many questions pop up inside your head but you decide to let them go for now. 

“Okay, creep. You don’t get to call the shots here. I’m the one being compensated, remember?” 

“Fine.” He sighs in defeat, dropping the back of his head against the armchair. Then, he’s looking at you, or rather, your clothes. “I see you finally got new pajamas. Snoopy will be missed. RIP.”

Unlike the long sleeved Snoopy one, this set is composed of light blue polka dot shorts and shirt.  

“For your information, that wasn’t my only pair.” A flush creeps up your cheeks as you grab a throw pillow and place it on your lap, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I own a lot of pajamas.”

“So you willingly choose to dress like an apocalypse survivor?” 

“You’re not really in a position to critique my fashion choices.”  

“Hey, what’s wrong with my suit?”  

“The person behind it.”

He tuts, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “You’re a really irascible lady, huh?” 

“You learned that word today?”

“Yesterday, actually.” His attention is drawn to the book you were reading. He grabs it and examines the pages curiously before closing them. Moving on to the cover, he reads the title out loud. “A Scandal of Bohemia. Sherlock Holmes? You like mystery books? Should I call you Scooby Doo instead of Snoopy?”

“I’m surprised you can even read.” Your eyes roll at his foolishness. “And stop calling me cartoon dogs names!”

“Can’t you just play nice for once?” He puts the book down and reclines, arms braced on the armchair. “Yes, for your information, not only can I read as I actually enjoy doing it very much.”

Contemplating his words, you decide to indulge yourself him by asking, “Well, what do you like to read?”

“Finally curious about me?” The smugness in his voice earns him a dirty look. “Careful. One might even think you’re starting to like me.”

Maybe you are, in fact, irascible. 

“I take it back.” 

“I read pretty much anything as long as it’s interesting to me.” He reveals honestly, not wanting to waste the opportunity of having a civilized conversation with you for once. “Most of it is fiction. Classic, Gothic, Horror…” He stops listing on his fingers to make a dramatic pause. “Romance…”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“What what?” 

“You said Romance.”

“Yeah, I did. Why?” Jutting his chin out, he crosses his strong arms in a playful attempt to intimidate you. “Got a problem?”

“Nope. It’s just… hmm, unexpected?” You offer with a shrug. “I’m not much of a Romance reader myself, to be honest.”

“I can tell.”

Something about the way he says it so earnestly elicits what could be considered a witch cackle from you. Red Hood watches this whole display in stunned silence until you’re wiping a tear off the corner of your eyes. 

“Oh, wow. Didn’t know you were capable of that.” 

“Laughing?”

“Being human.”

Just like that, your expression closes up again. “Ha-ha. Don’t get used to it.” 

“Right. Back to cranky default, I see.” His words are colored with amusement as he cranes his neck to look at the wall clock near the kitchen entrance. A gasp leaves his lips and he’s suddenly up on his feet. “Shit. Didn’t mean to stay this long. I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” You stand up and check the time as well. It’s almost midnight. 

“Thanks for everything, Snoopy. See you around.”

“See you.” A strange feeling of disappointment settles into your chest after his departure. 

You enjoyed his company tonight more than you’re willing to admit. 

—//—

Not even a week later, you arrive home to see him there again. 

Now, installing a new television in your living room. 

Seventy inches screen. 4k and all that. Just like you requested.

“Honestly. I’m not even surprised anymore.” You say while taking off your coat and hanging it on the wall hooks. “Don’t know why I bothered with getting better locks in the first place.” 

Despite the jab, your voice lacks its usual bite. Only a teasing lilt present in them. It’s nice to see he listened to your demands. 

“No, you did the right thing. The locks are actually great.” He comments absentmindedly, engrossed in the task at hand. 

“Not enough to keep you out, obviously.”

You take in the scene in front of you. There’s a cardboard box and some plastic wraps placed in the corner. At the center of the living room, Red Hood is assembling the TV to its mount on the wall, deeply concentrated. It’s a big heavy object that to anyone, would be awkward to lift alone. Not to him, though. He holds it almost like a freaking tablet. 

That also begs the question as to how the hell he managed to climb up to the third floor and pass through your window while carrying a seventy inch television. 

A lighthearted chuckle diverts you from your thoughts. 

“I’ll leave if you want, though. Almost done here.”

“Oh, no, please be my guest.” You wave him off, going into the kitchen for a glass of water. Then, coming back to watch him work. “You know, I’d offer you something to drink but… the helmet, right?”

“Sorry, Snoopy.” He’s fishing for the TV remote inside the box now. “Secret identity and all that shit.” 

“No, yeah. Absolutely. ” The bitterness within your words seems impossible to be contained. “It’s not like you know my home and work address, my occupation, my family and friends relations, my routine…”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” He winces, fiddling with the remote in his hands. It’s the first time he appears awkward standing in your apartment. “For what it's worth, I’m really sorry.”

After making sure the TV is working properly, he makes his way to the window. 

“Thank you.” You say suddenly, causing him to freeze. 

He turns his head slightly and gives a curt nod. 

“Anytime.” 

Then, he’s gone.

A/N: in case anyone's wondering how Jason managed to get the big ass TV through a window on the third floor, he asked Dick for help. No questions asked.

remember to reblog and let me know your thoughts if you like this!

pt. 2 will be posted soon!

thanks for reading <3

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[greensbeanspotatoestomatoes]

On John Doe and Mirrors

He watches Arthur move, when he can.

When Arthur wants a shave, John guides him in halves, only needing to adjust Arthur slightly, the rest a sort of muscle memory for him.

That means John can spare his eyes to Arthur in the reflection, without being obvious.

The way he moves, is fascinating.

The quick and sure motions of his right hand. Nimble, thin pianist’s fingers pulling at the threads of the universe and enacting his will on the world, bringing the razor blade close to the skin, but deft enough not to cut it.

He watches Arthur’s left hand. His hand.

The fingers are the same. Delicate and sharp, but lacking all the finesse and confidence’s Arthur’s have. They lay stiff and useless on the rim of the sink. The dark wood finger contrasts brightly against the white porcelain. He lifts his eyes to Arthur’s face again, leaving his hand below. He doesn’t trust himself not to hurt Arthur again in some way.

Arthur brings the razor to his cheek again. His right this time.

He starts below his eye socket and gently traces the blade down, revealing more and more of the scar that spans across his cheek. The beard does little to truly hide it, but now, without it, the pale pink tissue is stark against Arthur’s even paler skin.

He continues lower, carefully manoeuvring the blade below his jaw towards his neck.

John’s fingers tighten on the sink as he thinks about the first time Arthur brought a knife to his throat in his company. John couldn’t see it then, only the red spray that followed. Now, John can see the blade delicately brush over the scar.

No stakes, no fear, just another shave.

He watches Arthur’s brows furrow in concentration as he guides the blade down from his cheek bone again.

Every time they face a mirror, John wonders how they’ve ever gotten away with the lies they tell. Because Arthur has got to be a shit liar, his face is just so expressive. Every move he makes or thought he expresses during this little ritual is mirrored in the twitches of his eyebrows or the quirks of his mouth. It’s like watching… well like watching a pianist play. You see the keys pressed, and hear the sound made. Cause and effect. Arthur and his fucking expressive face.

“… and then Parker grabbed him by his collar, yanking him back,” Arthur says talking around the last movements of the razor, “and— John are you listening?”

John zones back in, as Arthur finishes shaving and begins washing the foam away. His face is bare, save for the moustache they’re trying to grow. John… likes Arthur’s face. The sharp angles, and dark hair. The quirk of one of his brows as he faces the mirror, as if questioning John.

“Yes Arthur,” John says, exasperated, “Parker and his misadventures with the barkeep. You were saying…”

A corner of Arthur’s mouth tilts up as he continues his story. But John is staring at his reflection again, at his hands and face, and at the centre of it all, the two eyes staring back, vaguely tinged yellow.

---------------------------------------------------

More Thoughts

[batsplat]

Valentino Rossi & Casey Stoner - with words from Agassi & Sampras

Agassi/Sampras quotes taken from: A Champion's Mind: Lessons from a Life in Tennis (2009); Open: An Autobiography (2009); 'I Really Hated Tennis' (2009); Agassi and Sampras Meet a Year After Flare-Up (2011); Andre Agassi Reflects on His Career | 2024 US Open (2024) - if you want more context for these quotes, see here

Devil of a ride for Stoner (2007); Rossi: Stoner rode like a god! | MotoGP (2007); Stoner and Rossi post-Laguna Seca (2008); 2008 MotoGP Laguna Seca Race Report - Crunch Time (2008); 2008 Brno MotoGP Preview - Let Battle Commence (2008); Crasher Casey strikes again (2008); Statement By Valentino Rossi After The Motegi Race (2008); Ring of Fire (2009); Valentino si allunga la carriera: «Io, l���ultimo dei piloti romantici» (2009); Stoner impenna: «La correttezza? Non fa per voi europei» (2009); Valentino Rossi's interview with Italian GQ (2010); Casey Stoner on Rossi-Lorenzo Motegi clash (2010); 2011 Jerez MotoGP Race Day Round Up: The Feeding Frenzy (2011); MotoGP, Stoner: “Lorenzo ha più talento di Rossi” (2012); Rossi on the slide? Legend facing a season without a win (2011); Rossi admits that he misses Stoner (2013); Casey Stoner: Pushing the Limits (2013); Inside the mind of Casey Stoner (2014); MotoGP, Livio Suppo: "Stoner in Honda would have suffered Marquez's Personality" (2020); MotoGP Revisited: Rossi and Stoner’s US Grand Prix flashpoint (2020); Casey Stoner tweet (2021); MotoGP, Stoner: "I loved 2-strokes. I retired because riding had become too easy (2021); Tales of Valentino (2021); Farewell to Valentino Rossi, the man who transformed motorbike racing (2021); MotoGP, Valentino Rossi e Casey Stoner: storico incrocio a Portimao (2021); Stoner “has missed” Rossi racing at the front in MotoGP (2021); Rossi visto dai rivali - Stoner: "A Laguna Seca mostrò il suo vero volto" (2021); Valentino Rossi: All His Races (2022); MotoGP legend Casey Stoner talks early retirement, real feelings towards Valentino Rossi & Anxiety (2022); “Stoner had more ‘exceptional talent’ than Rossi, but anxiety ate him alive…” (2023); Stoner on fellow riders (2024); Ep. 11 L'ICONA DEL MOTOCICLISMO con Valentino Rossi (SECONDA PARTE) (2024); Barcelona 2024 - The Misadventures of Party Peter and Mischievous Mat (2024); A day at the MotoRanch with Casey Stoner (2024); Casey Stoner: "Io e Valentino Rossi eravamo nemici, ora abbiamo superato il passato" (2024)

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Nightmares of past misadventures continue to haunt you. In desperation for comfort and a full night's sleep, you seek out the only person capable of calming your mind - Halsin.]

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You're startled awake.

Gasping and coughing, you try to control your laboured breathing but the tension inside your chest renders you choking.

It was all a dream, a vision made up entirely by your brain. All of the scenes were mere reflections of what you've been through. None of it happened the way you'd dreamed.

And yet your hands are shaking.

The insidious whispers from your nightmare ring in your ears like an echo: It's your fault. This is all because of you.

Each rustle of the forest trees or a branch broken in the distance makes you jump. Shaking pines sound like the sinister laughter of something too old to be remembered even by nature. The shadows surrounding the camp seem darker and more vigorous as though they have a mind of their own. They lean over you, elongating and reaching to swallow you whole.

Laying on the bedroll, in front of the campfire, you feel more than exposed to whatever strange entities might reside in the woods.

Tears of fear are pooling in your eyes as your breath quickens again. You have to fight your own body to move it.

As your frightened mind focuses on finding a source of safety, your legs are already guiding you in the direction of Halsin's tent. Considering his strange sleeping hours, he's probably still awake.

Not having much care for etiquette in your current state, you call out for Halsin while already lifting the flap entrance. He's lying on his side on top of the bedroll. Judging by his attentive, open eyes, you really didn't disturb his sleep. He's half-naked, even on a chilly night like this.

"You're awake," Halsin says. It's hard to say whether he's asking or stating a rather obvious fact.

"Yes, about that..." you hung your raspy voice. On the one hand, you know that he probably won't mind but don't on the other, it's still mighty embarrassing to tell him why you've come. Isn't it childish to look for comfort in someone after being startled by your own imagination? "Would you mind if I slept with you?" you ask hesitantly. Your voice is breaking, reminding you of the inexplicable dread still residing in your abdomen. "I just- I don't want to be alone. Not tonight."

A deep lion's wrinkle appears between Halsin's eyebrows. His expression, normally quite polite, falls into something more tense and sombre. He's worried.

"Come to me," he says in a soft voice.

Obediently, you lay next to him. A strong arm wraps around you protectively, pulling you close against Halsin's body. He's warm, excessively so. Your face nuzzles into his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat inside his ribcage. As the druid's shoulders rise and fall in slow, relaxed breaths, you feel yours becoming less laboured.

"Thank you." Your whisper is barely audible, even in the dead of night.

"I'm glad to be the one you've sought out in the moment of need."

He doesn't let up his tight hold around you while you stir to look up at him. The sombre tension that crowned Halsin's face is now mostly gone, residing only in his bright eyes. It seems that despite dissipating his initial worry, the druid remains wary, prepared for your inexplicable fear to come back at any moment. As much as you appreciate the fact that he's not enquiring about what exactly had sent you into panic, you know that he very much desires to know - only then can he aid.

"Of course, I did, Halsin," you answer. For a moment you recall how your legs guided you towards him, although your consciousness had been plunged into chaos. Some primal part of you thought him your guardian, saviour. "It's always you."

The druid takes a sudden deep inhale as if your confession stirred something vulnerable deep inside him. Is this what being loved feels like? Feeling sunshine on your skin after a cold, winter night? Or seeing your favourite painting for the first time again and again?

"Then I'll always be there, mo chroi. Whenever you need me."

Halsin's oath is the last thing you remember before falling asleep. Little did you know but he stayed awake for quite some time after that. Partially because he revelled in the sensation of holding you close and in part awaiting for the terror to strike again, startling you awake once more.

But that moment never came.

Instead, restful sleep has found you, washing away the tender taint left by your nightmare.

___

mo chroi - "my heart" (Irish Gaelic). Dude is a druid, Gaelic fits him like a glove