#practical script writing exercise

[townpostin]

Karim City College Hosts Script Writing Workshop

Mumbai screenwriter Sajal Kumar shares insights with Mass Communication students A script writing workshop led by Mumbai-based screenwriter Sajal Kumar was organized by Karim City College’s Mass Communication Department. JAMSHEDPUR – Karim City College’s Mass Communication Department hosted a script writing workshop featuring Mumbai-based screenwriter Sajal Kumar, sharing industry insights with…

[honeytonedhottie]

building a new life and identity⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

building a new identity and life for urself is actually easier than it sounds. u only need to commit to the new identity.

WHO IS THE PERSON THAT U WANT TO BE ;

how do they act? what is their education? that’s the first question to ask urself. i talked about a garden analogy in one of my previous posts but just in case u missed that i’ll remind u:

so basically imagine urself as a gardener and ur life is ur garden. it’s boundless. u can fill the garden with flowers 🌸 and plants, anything u desire really. think of ur desires as the flowers that u fill ur garden 🪴 with. the plants that u water the most or the pay the most attention to will grow beautifully. this is how manifestation is. 

so what i’ve been doing lately is keeping 2-3 affirmations on loop in my brain whenever i get a minute to. (kinda like when u put something on queue in ur mind) when im doing mindless activities or something. i’ll repeat the affirmations in my mind OR out loud. but i’ll only do this when i want to. (cuz nothing in manifestation should be forced) 

doing this, i kinda imagine my affirmations as watering my manifestations 🪷. now that we’ve established setting up ur garden, let’s FILL it. (this is the funnest part) i want u to write down who u desire to be as though u were already that person living that life. so you’d title ur page (who i am) 

my name is ___ i am ___ years old 

ur personality and character traits 

ur skills and talents 

ur appearance 

ur self concept and how life treats u 

ur education 

ur relationships

how long it takes u to get everything u want 

literally EVERYTHING. this is scripting. ur creating a script in which ur reality will follow. next we need to PRACTICE the script. 

how do we do that? being delulu, affirming, manifestation exercises, daydreaming, SATS, literally PRETENDING. fulfilling urself in ur imagination is u practicing the script. 

once the script is persisted in enough and well practiced you’ll see it play out in ur life. congratulations, you’ve built a new life and identity for urself <3 (this is a remake of one of my old posts in my newer style)

[leonw4nter]

hi! so i was wondering if you could do hcs for re2r leon who is dating a nurse? also i wanted to say that i love your writing!! it’s literally some of my favorite on this app 💗 thank you!

RE2R!Leon Headcanons on dating a nurse…

RE2R!Leon x GN!reader

You two had met when officer Rayman had to send him to the ER for stitches on his side after a physical encounter with a car thief on crack. You had been at the ER just passing time, occasionally attending to other patients if they needed any help.

You had already thought that the young officer was already attractive, but you didn’t pay his face much attention and rushed to help him with the cut on his side, as blood seeped through his white inner shirt and into his navy blue uniform. He was already used to being shirtless with a bunch of other officers in the locker rooms of the RPD but somehow, he felt flustered being topless in front of you.

“Gosh, your body is just goals,” you comment as you finish up the last of his stitches. Warmth floods his head, sending his brain swimming in all sorts of happiness-eliciting chemicals. “It’s so good, actually. What’s your workout routine?”

“Oh it’s– um…–” he stammered. Pistol squats, weighted squats, glute extensions, weighted calf raises, thirty-second sprints, leg swings, cat camel, crab reaches, and some kicking. It would’ve been easy for him to share his gym regimen and tell you its intervals but with you looking up at him with doe eyes, all words melted into goo before they could leave his throat. “Oh– it’s just, you know– squats, calf raises, some running. That stuff… I think– I mean, yeah! Just these um… exercises, yeah. Right.”

He wanted to kick himself and never come back to that ER again but you didn’t seem to notice his awkward stammering (or did really well that it looked like you didn’t notice it).

You gave your number to him in case he had any questions or needed help with tending to the stitches just below his ribs and since Marvin had given him 2 days off to recuperate, he took the time to call you and asked if he could send you some donuts during one of your lunch breaks soon.

“I was wondering if– if you’ll be okay with me dropping some donuts off at your work during your break. It’s just my small token of thanks,” he said. He wished that he prepared a script ahead and practiced a handful more times, unconfident with the trembling in his voice and the small voice crack he hoped the phone didn’t pick up.

“Oh! Of course! That’d be great! Leave it at the front desk, to a certain Nurse Joyce and I’ll pick it up,” you gleefully say.

“That’d be awesome. So uh… see you soon, I guess?”

“See me soon? Are you implying that there’s going to be more than one occasion where we’re going to see each other–”

“Goodnight, nurse!”

He didn’t mean to sound rude or come off as a sourpuss but your words coming back to him when he thought it would stay only in the form of thoughts in his mind scared him, he just had to hang up.

After several dates and 5 months spent together as friends, Leon bashfully asked if you would want him as a boyfriend because he felt ready to be your boyfriend if you were ready for the commitment. His poor hands were gripping the bouquet too tightly, wrinkling the plastic wrapping around his large hands. His eyes looked comically round and almost puppy-like, especially with his dilated pupils. You nodded and said yes to him, gently taking the flowers and giving him a big hug. Before you went inside your door when he sent you home, you pressed a kiss to his cheek and blew him a kiss before going inside. Poor Leon stood frozen in front of your steps, pleasantly shocked as a wide grin made its way into his baby face. You stayed behind the door for a bit, listening to him. You swear you heard a giddy laugh and a silent “Yes!” from the other side.

Watching medical shows became a regular thing between you two. You pointed out some of the medical inaccuracies and explained what should actually be happening as Leon looked at you with hearts in his eyes. It was also vice versa: you watching a cop show with him and him breaking down the mechanics of how investigations are done while you nod and hum in agreement while silently swooning over the increasing animation of his hands as he went over the laws and breaches in ethics.

“Whew, that was so smart of you.” You say as you scooch closer to him and lean against his shoulder. This confused Leon at first.

“Huh? Why– what’d I do?” He anxiously asked, worried he did something wrong even though that didn’t seem to be the case.

“You really got into the nitty gritty of it and went into hypothetical scenarios with different outcomes of the situation. You know, I heard that you graduated at the top of your police academy.”

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Uh, yeah… I did but it’s nothing, really. You’re really smart too, you know.”

Before you, Leon used to simply wash his cuts with water and anti-bacterial soap and not place a bandage over it. Now, he’s immediately asking you for band-aids whenever he has one. Sometimes, the band-aids look ridiculous: bright yellow band-aids with rubber ducks, Disney princesses, cartoons, or cute animal doodles but he doesn’t mind, it’s like a small piece of you that he carries into work, a small reminder of you keeping his wound guarded.

Leon’s now a regular at the hospital, you a regular at the police station. At the hospital, the older nurses and doctors like to grill him about you and how he’s treating you. Back at the police station, the officers like to share stories about all the times Leon embarrassed himself by accident or when he started out as a rookie. They loved to bring up how fast Leon managed to solve the puzzles they set up for him when he had his first day on the job, recommending challenging puzzle kits as a gift for him. What both your coworkers had in common was scrunching their nose and feigning dislike for your mild displays of affection like hugging and kisses to the cheek.

If Leon needed to request for a leave due to medical reasons, he considered himself lucky that you were qualified to be able to write up a medical certificate to present once he got back.

“Officer, I don’t think I can accept this.”

“Why not? It’s written by a medical professional, a licensed one too.”

“We don’t accept certificates coming from–”

“Someone we’re legally associated with? Yes. That includes parents, siblings, and spouses but they’re not my spouse. Well, not yet at least, so I think I’m free to go. Nothing in the handbook indicates that I can’t have my unmarried partner make my certificate.”

“... consider yourself lucky, officer. Fine, I’ll take it.”

He does consider himself lucky– more than lucky, in fact.

One time, he got curious and decided to ask to see the needles you use on patients. On a particularly silly mood that day, you decided to exaggerate a little bit. You took the needle meant for an epidural, a needle around 6 inches, and explained that this went into the spine. He had gone pale, the rosiness and pinkish tint of his face vanishing as you demonstrated how it would be used. You showed him the needles used for intramuscular injections and he adjusts the collar of his clothes, a little queasy at the thought of these scary devices being used on a near-daily basis.

There are some days where you’d come home completely silent and drained, feeling blue from the events that had gone down in the hospital. If Leon got home first, he’d be welcoming you with a beaming grin and open arms but once he spots the puffiness of your face indicative of crying, he pulls you in for a hug and immediately asks what’s wrong before listening to you and offering words of comfort or the solace of his presence with you.

Back then, he simply relied on fruits and the occasional vegetable for his vitamins but after dating you, you decided to slip some vitamins after meals into his diet. He particularly likes the gummy vitamins though you remember to remind him to take them out of the car so they won’t melt and turn into one cluster.

NOTE - Thank you so so much to the anon who sent this, I hope you liked it <3 I've been having writer's block for a bit so it took a long time to complete a request like this but I'm glad that I managed to get this done for you :) I didn't format this post like how I usually format it (w the dividers and text gradients) bc there's a major weather disturbance from where I live and it's affecting the signal and connection speed of the internet so I'll probably make this look pretty once the storm passes us. School starts again in like... a week so requests getting done will prolly take some time so I'll do my best to post everything before everything goes tits up in terms of academics. Anyway, that's it and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

[cenorii]

Wesker: personality

This is my psychological analysis of the character, which includes important details of the story, an analysis of the decisions they made and the concept of the phenomenon of «Guiding Fear». Contains spoilers!

Even if you know lore 100%, you will be able to learn something new from my thoughts

I did this to practice analyzing personalities and reliably prescribe my own characters.

[These are all my personal reflections that I have been accumulating and analyzing for six months. You can see the same analysis with Chris here. In Wesker's case, I dispel the myths that he is evil-evil and crazy, it's not that trivial here... Thanks to everyone who reads this, I really appreciate it and it's nice to know that my thoughts are of interest to someone!]

The most difficult subject of all. An attempt to embrace the immensity. He is infantile and the desire to prove this quality forced me to write such a huge article.

Wesker embodies the fear of losing himself, the anxiety of being someone he is not. He knows nothing about himself from the beginning, neither his Spencer-prescribed destiny nor his real name. As he tries to resist and exercise his individuality, he is eventually confronted with the truth that his every move has been pre-planned, never answering the questions: where are his own decisions? Where is he himself? What is really his?

I chose this fear for Wesker for a reason. The fear of losing himself can cause a person to purposely distance himself from others and not allow anyone to get close to him. He strives to shield himself from everyone, and we can observe this in his desire to be alone. Outwardly, such a person may appear indifferent and cold, even indifferent, so as not to give away to others (and to himself) his true feelings and needs. Wesker believes that it is right not to show anyone that something matters to him, otherwise he will develop weaknesses. After all, what people hold dear can be manipulated. And he doesn't want anyone to have control over him. He hates being controlled, so his surroundings know the bare minimum of information about him.

Who's Spencer? One of the founders of Umbrella, to put it succinctly. A man who is obsessed with identical mansions and mysteries and immortality and creating «perfect humanity». Rich and powerful.

But let's get to Wesker's story. A lot of things happened to him in his 48 years of life.

First of all, I want to point out that at an early age he was taken from a family that Spencer believed had a unique combination of intelligence and genes. But he wasn't the only one who was treated this way as part of «project W» (the experiment to create the perfect human). There were hundreds of children who were later given the surname Wesker. Until their adulthood, they received the best education, living in a boarding school (presumably), and were selected to be the best.

The children, being a blank slate, absorbed Spencer's teaching, being brought up according to his ideals. Their lives were pre-scripted, every step of the way. Those who were unremarkable were weeded out. Competition, anxiety. The lack of a normal childhood could breed a fear of losing oneself in every Wesker, for life was controlled. Personal boundaries and choices were absent, Spencer's worldview was pounded into everyone's head. Children were also distorted with notions of right and wrong, forced to be emotionally detached from a non-ideal world. This upbringing has produced people who have no empathy for others, empty machines with no personality of their own, ready to perform perfectly in any job in which they find themselves successful. They see the world through Spencer's eyes, but not their own.

In the end the best were 13 people, where number 12 was Alex Wesker and number 13 was Albert, the one in question. Someone who really always wanted to see the world with his own eyes, wanted to transcend.

The 13 candidates, following Spencer's plan, had to mature before moving on to the final stage of project W - injecting themselves with a special prototype virus. The power that this virus can bestow is so great that an immature individual, according to Spencer, has no right to possess it. In theory, this virus should improve a person, make him perfect, but in fact it turned out to be very selective and killed 11 candidates out of 13. Only Alex and Albert survived. Alex didn't gain any strength, because at the time of the injection she was sick, and the virus cannot improve a weak organism. But her half-brother was lucky, and the virus endowed him with all possible positive properties, changing his body and turning him into an almost immortal creature, looking completely like a human. That is, outwardly, except for the color of his eyes, nothing had changed in him. At the time of the injection, they were both 38.

I don't believe in theory that he lost his «humanity» due to mutation. On the contrary, he was never «human» in the classical sense of the word. He, like the others, was raised not to show empathy for others and was indoctrinated to believe that he was superior. Wesker had not changed, but because of his newfound freedom, he was no longer constrained by the limits Spencer's upbringing had placed on him.

When Wesker was 18, he was sent to the «Umbrella Executive Training School» with his future friend William Birkin, who was 16. They were research associates. As one could guess, the stress didn't end with his childhood, it coexisted with it. Following the text from his report, Wesker continued to feel like a mere toy in the hands of Umbrella, and further in the hands of Spencer, he literally raved in every paragraph about the old man. And to get out of this state was impossible from his words.

He and Birkin were led to Lisa Trevor, a subject who had been physically and psychologically abused in this School for many years. The horrible picture that opened before them, gave Wesker confidence that he could be in her place if he did his job badly. But he had no idea that he'd always been there, that every stage of his life was Spencer's experiment, just not as ugly.

Wesker wrote in his report: «We had two choices: succeed in our research... or lie here and rot like her. Thus we had only one option. This woman tied to a pipe touched something in our minds»

These thoughts are literally a revelation of his subconscious fear that has haunted him since childhood. A manifestation of humanity.

When Wesker entered this School, he felt freedom and saw the horrors of science for the first time. Perhaps a turning point in his life, for in order not to lose that little freedom, and his life, he had to do as he was told. Had to adjust and ignore the rationalism screaming inside. Working there greatly affected Birkin and Wesker, but Wesker had to transfer elsewhere to get more information about Spencer and also because of the realization that he had reached his research limit. When Birkin started studying the G-virus, Wesker realized that it was beyond his knowledge. Although he was good at science, he didn't want to do it all the time, he wasn't looking to improve his skills and knowledge, reaching for something else, as if trying everywhere, trying to find his place.

Close to the age of 38, Wesker gets a job in a special police unit as Captain of the S.T.A.R.S. Squad and a double agent. But he was already then pursuing a personal goal and found himself a triple agent. His goal was not simply to test bioweapons on members of his squad, as the assignment stated, but to escape with the results to another organization. The only way to break free from the influence of Umbrella, which is why he gave up his best people so easily.

It's unclear why he planted supplies on Chris in a difficult moment and helped him in every way he could if the trial was supposed to go «natural». Perhaps he wanted Chris to 100% make it to the final trial, but Chris was doing fine without it. Maintained the image of the captain? Game rules? Anything is possible. I'll use the code word «WX» to note this behavior, because I'll come back to this topic a few more times. «WX» stands for Wesker's penchant for actions that do not conform to his basic behavior, including helping others that does not bring him any personal benefit or benefit. In other words, good without any reason.

At the mansion, Chris and Jill get rid of the bioweapons in their path and make their way to the lab, where they catch Wesker off guard. There are 12 endings in the game, but only the one where Wesker is stabbed in the stomach by the Tyrant is canonical, as that is the ending depicted in Umbrella Chronicles, where the story is told on his behalf.

He survives by regenerating from a pre-injected prototype virus, but it's unclear if his death was part of the plan. His first report states that Wesker planned his temporary death from the Tyrant, but in subsequent retellings of this moment, I began to question how relevant this report was. His reaction and facial emotion shown in the re1 remake described surprise. But he couldn't be faking it at that moment, because he already had his back turned to Jill and Chris. Considering the way Wesker in Umbrella Chronicles describes his death, it seems like he really didn't expect this. Something didn't go according to plan. He didn't plan for this kind of trauma to activate the virus within him.

The point about the prototype virus is also worth mentioning. Birkin, on Spencer's orders, misled Wesker by telling him that this substance was developed specifically for him. That is, Wesker did not know the truth and details about having a huge probability of simply dying from the injection. Judging by the information in the notes, if Wesker had not injected it into himself, the virus would have entered his body in some other way, it was inevitable. The remaining 12 Weskers were injected with the virus, some by force, some at the request of a friend, and some under the guise of vaccination.

Let's take it a little further. Wesker was declared dead and moved on to another organization. Now his plan was to get rid of the sinking ship that is Umbrella. But why was he so intent on destroying it? It could have been a personal vendetta, after all, it was Umbrella that had manipulated his life and taken away his freedom. It was also a way to prove to his new organization that he was worth something.

By executing his plan, he inadvertently helped Chris and Jill, who were seeking the same thing. I'd call it «WX», but since he was pursuing a personal goal for his own benefit, it's 50\50.

Then in re4 he gives Ada the task finds the amber with the parasite Plaga. Considering that Wesker moves quietly around the island in the remake, it's odd that he didn't get that amber himself. With the power and speed from the virus, he took it all on the shoulders of one Ada, who was also infected during the mission, which only wasted his time. Didn't want to get his hands dirty? Maybe. But if he had gotten them dirty, the mission would have been completed faster, and isn't that a tactical advantage?

In the remake, he manifests «WX» (DLC Separate Ways) when he shows up at just the right moment for Ada and saves her from the ganados. After likely killing them with a gun, he takes a passed out Ada to Mendez's bedside, where he gives her a temporary recovery shot (or draws her blood?) But you know what's even weirder? He purposely chose a comfortable place for Ada, rather than laying her down on the ground somewhere. He was also there with her the entire time she was lying unconscious. I'd put an exclamation point on that weirdness, because... why? First of all, why did he save her when he could have continued the mission in her place? Recall Code Veronica, there Wesker arrived on the island with his HCF squad, but then we find his soldiers infected. He showed no concern for them and actually continued the mission on his own. Second, why did he keep sitting there? To scold and pathos leave?

He envisioned the option of Ada's possible betrayal and later stole Krauser's body, from which he had already extracted the Plaga sample, but he saved her anyway. Why? All of Ada's subsequent tasks on the island he could also have accomplished on his own and much faster. It's not like he was very busy if he allowed himself to sit with a sleeping Ada. The next meeting with Ada takes place on the elevation. Wesker brings her a case, pointing a gun at her. What is this gesture for? I don't think he sees her as a threat. Maybe it's a way to lend weight to his words, but doesn't he consider his authority absolute? He's a much bigger threat than the gun in his hand, so it's an odd action that makes him seem insecure.

After Ada's betrayal, one of Wesker's allies informs him that her helicopter can be attacked, but he refuses, calling it her "little act of defiance". Thus, he gives someone the Plaga sample she stole, and also spares Ada herself. It's «WX», though he could have gotten rid of two problems at once - the traitor and the competition.

We are now transported to the future, in the DLC for Re5 – «Lost in Nightmares». Here's where the fun begins.

DLC reveals to us that something has been bothering Wesker all his life, and that something is a subconscious manipulation that has been psychologically programmed into every Wesker. The so-called «Spencer's presence». It was a defense mechanism that constantly caused a sense of anxiety and a desire to seek out Spencer, to obey him. But this defense stopped working as soon as the old man met his prodigal son and told him everything. Wesker learned from him the whole truth about himself and about «project W», that his whole life had been manufactured. Then the defenses in his head were destroyed and he quietly killed Spencer, appropriating his dream for himself. He failed to deal with the realization of the truth, taking his dream of becoming God and creating a perfect humanity. An infantile fantasy of an unjust world that needed to be changed to fit his ideals.

In that moment, he faced his fear head-on. There she was - the cause of his fears, the person who had gotten into the depths of his mind, into his innermost being. Spencer. And now this old man was lying bloody on the floor. Perhaps Wesker should have been relieved and finally started living the life he wanted, not this old man. But he had taken Spencer's dream for himself, thus, once again acting against his will. In doing so, he didn't walk away from the problem, but exacerbated it without even realizing it. Wesker must have guessed that he had some problems, but his inflated ego that prevented him from thinking about it, screaming that he couldn't have any flaws. The problem became a hole that he tries to fill with things like this.

Whereas other characters conquer their fears by facing them, Wesker drowned in them, unwilling to change anything. His entire personality was built on the horror of losing himself, and when he found out that he basically had no self all his life, he lost his mind. He decided, since this world was unfair to him, then he needed to completely rewrite it and turn it into his own utopia, in which he would be whoever he wanted, untouchable, whom no one would point out and control.

However, thanks to the re4r (DLC Separate Ways), we now know that similar thoughts haunted Wesker even before he met Spencer. His desire to change people and start a new era he expresses after the credits. With this, the writers patched a few plot holes that appeared after re5. Now Wesker sounds like he didn't assign Spencer's goals to himself, but even before meeting him, he decided on a vision based on his upbringing.

Unfortunately, there is a long known scripting problem re5, because Wesker was not planned as a character who will survive the events of this game, so his motivation sounds stereotypical and stupid, because his plan and should not have been realized. Must be in the remake they will fix this flaw, because the beginning has already been made. His moment of frustration after killing Spencer is interrupted by Chris and Jill coming up. Consumed by rage, Wesker is seriously trying to kill Chris this time, or he was playing with him again, knowing that he would not oppose him. After saving her partner from death, Jill pushes Wesker out the window, falling down onto the rocks with him. After falling off a cliff, Wesker obviously survives, but also saves Jill. Why not just leave her to die? Why treat her and then plan to make her a test subject? Aren't there other healthy people out there? Stupid and empty revenge is not in his character. This is just another manifestation of «WX» and his obsessive desire to cling to the past.

I don't have much to say about re5, because Wesker died there, or we were made to think so. The only thing I will mention is his unhealthy attitude towards Chris. He displays it at every chance he gets. The notes about Wesker in Umbrella Chronicles state «As a spy he held the concurrent post of S.T.A.R.S. Captain and has been impressed by Chris' combat abilities since then», and during the events of Umbrella Chronicles, Wesker said the phrase «Chris, it appears our fates are forever intertwined». In the re1 remake and Code Veronica, he openly stated that Chris was «his best man» in a sort of unobtrusive admiration. It's no longer possible to perceive Redfield as separate from Wesker.

Each time he points a gun at him, Wesker never takes a shot on target. In the battle on the airplane, he points the gun at Chris without even putting his finger on the trigger. Such a good opportunity to kill him, to get rid of the enemy for good, and he just stands there holding a gun he's not even going to use. Just take the shot and it's over, but no, he's standing there babbling on as if it's actually that much more important to him. It's like Wesker was looking for an opportunity to vent to the very person from his past. It's reminiscent of the moment he pointed the gun at Ada. It's like he was trying to add weight to his words, to show the importance of what he was doing.

In Code Veronica, he decided to play with Chris instead of killing him. So many opportunities were missed, as if he couldn't physically hurt «his best man». Chris is Wesker's only drop of common sense. If he was sure of what he was doing, and also sure of himself, he wouldn't have left Chris any chance of survival. He would have killed Redfield at the first opportunity, but he stands there every time and doubts what he's doing. Chris is a kind of controlling element to him that constantly makes him hesitate.

And this strange hatred for Chris also raises questions. Maybe he hates him because he was jealous of what he owned? Something that cannot be obtained with money. Support, understanding, the love of a sister and close people, trust. Wesker compulsively convinced himself that he was not made for such things, for even having a sister, they did not possess affection. From the beginning he had no friends and his only companion was Birkin, though their relationship could hardly be called a normal friendship. He had no family or loved ones, and the only support he received came from «patrons» who were actually agents of Spencer and Umbrella. Seeing the Redfields supporting each other in difficult moments, being heroic, Wesker truly realized that he would never do the same. He has no people he holds dear, nor does he have those who hold him dear. There are no irreplaceable people in his worldview, but this connection between Redfields is probably beyond his comprehension. It's a simple human problem, which is why he's so fixated on himself, because if he loses the only thing he has, he'll have nothing left. He's miserable and drowning in his own despair.

While interacting with Chris on the volcano, Wesker first reveals his idealistic, infantile nature, naively dreaming of a better world without war and disease. Losing control of his powers and realizing that he will not defeat Chris in such a state, he decides to overdose himself with Ouroboros, which in the end does not make him stronger at all, but only slows him down, making him drown not only in weakness, but also in his own uncontrollable anger and frustration. Events are moving too quickly and so it can be assumed that his words here are not addressed to Chris, but to himself. After all, in the last battle he claimed to be «saving the world» and now he wonders «is it worth saving?» He dies without knowing the answer.

«However, there is no point in power if it consumes itself» his phrase, well suited to the situation at hand.

Btw, in the original idea, the moment before he died, his eye color would become natural, showing despair and horror. An interesting idea that was discarded.

I would also like to parse his phrases: «Only those with superior DNA will be chosen by Uroboros. Only those fit for survival will be allowed to carry their genes into a new age!» Also, «I don't need anyone else. I have Uroboros!»

Wesker is more aware of how the world works than anyone else. Corruption, betrayal, human vice and filth. He had to participate in it to achieve his goal, had to go through a lot of disgusting people for the sake of getting benefits, himself to sink to their level. Seeing this, he has become disillusioned with people, so he wishes they would disappear, giving way to someone more «worthy» of life. He also renounces everyone, entrusting his fate to his creation, desperate to gain understanding.

His life was cut short at the age of 48 (2009) in a volcano, but that's according to official reports. In theory Wesker and his possible clone are alive now, which we could learn from Umbrella Corps. But I'm not going to tell you about it here.

I failed to mention that at 32, Wesker had a relationship with a woman named Muller. Strangely, she was still alive afterward and had a good opinion of him. Although it would seem that with such a personality it should be the other way around.

She ended up pregnant, and now, as of 2021 in the re8 storyline, their son is 29 years old. I can understand why she might not have informed Wesker about the son, because first of all he might not have approved and made her get rid of him, and secondly she might have lost the ability to contact him, since he was working in secret. But the fact that she kept the baby speaks volumes. That the man she broke up with is genuinely pleasant to her. I mean, if he'd been the way he was at the time of his death, it's unlikely she would have kept the baby. Often victims of violence/abuse get rid of their children, no one wants a child from a tyrant. That's the side of this character that we don't know anything about.

It's hard to imagine how a person who has a fear of losing himself and who distances himself from others has managed to find a short-term relationship at all.

What about his personality? There's a double bottom here.

It's ambiguous. At first you see a stereotypical villain and then a psycho who wants to «save the world» by destroying it, a standard hackneyed scheme, nothing interesting.

But if you look closely, we see a simple man on the verge of despair. With his past behind him, he cannot give up everything and live the way he likes, because he is superfluous in this world. Because of his own fears, he has developed a belief that he has to strive for something in order not to lose himself. All Weskers have been raised to believe that they have a great destiny, which builds an unhealthy and extremely vulnerable self-esteem.

With his fear of losing his identity, Wesker isolates himself from others, creating psychological walls that even he is afraid to penetrate. This may be the reason he broke up with Ms. Muller. She risked getting into places where even his foot had not set foot, so it became necessary to distance himself from her in order to avoid unpredictable consequences.

His dream, adopted from Spencer, actually echoes his deeply buried problem. «Infect people with a virus that will only improve and not kill a select few like him» That is, Wesker dreamed of making people like himself. Isn't it loneliness and desperation that makes people do such things? It didn't seem that he was hungry for «power» specifically, because he already had it in the traditional sense. All the more, based on his words, he did not wish for evil with this gesture, he wished to «save» humanity, knowing that millions would die. For the sake of finding a company «worthy of him», he was willing to risk killing everyone and being alone. Desperate and lost, he began to make bad decisions.

You know, it's been unusually hard for me to see beyond the obvious. I feel like I did the wrong thing by taking it upon myself to judge him without knowing almost anything about him. I originally had a biased and negative opinion of the character. But now I've gone neutral.

What do I see in front of me now? A character disconnected from his own lore. We read about one thing and see something else entirely. And also an unhappy man. Wesker is famous for his reports. They were always interesting to read because of their informative and judicious tone, so it was much more interesting to watch him when he acted in accordance with his reasoning.

Judging from the story, he is able to evoke compassion and empathy in the viewer, but does he evoke it in action? In action, he evokes nothing. He is not even annoying, although a well-written character should evoke an emotional response, but he evokes it only with his story.

Creating something unambiguously negative is not a bad thing. But such a thing should be presented wisely, and it should have a certain kind of backstory, which will only deepen our belief that this object is evil.

But in Wesker's case, things went wrong from the start. Having created a story that resonates in you with an atmosphere of hopelessness, lack of choice, and fear of losing yourself, we see a character that doesn't match that. It's the events of the personal story that create the character, but if the character feels pulled from it, something went wrong in the writing.

If you are creating a character who is supposed to be compassion, the story should help with that, make you feel his problem. The same is true if you're writing someone who is negative and should be disgusting. Murder isn't enough to make a character a villain, the story is the main key. And our victim's story isn't about becoming evil at all, it's about fighting fear, where fear wins in the end, which doesn't fit with the concept of evil evil at all. That's why the player/reader/viewer can't always decide who he is: antagonist? Anti-villain? Who the hell is he?

[The beginning of an optional fragment]

By the way, there aren't enough facts in this analysis, so now we're going to break down the prototype virus that was injected into 13 Weskers. If you're not interested in that, skip to the next section. I haven't previously mentioned the Progenitor, from which many viruses in this universe originated, so the prototype is an unstable strain of the Progenitor, weakened dozens of times so as not to be too toxic. This virus either gives a person immense strength or kills them altogether. Alex stayed somewhere in the middle, because nothing happened to her, but her brother changed a lot.

Wesker has special genes, as well as immunity, that made the prototype fused with him. But activation, according to Birkin's report, requires a stressful situation. That means the hormones released as a result of stress dramatically amplify the influence of the virus, helping the body to initiate the fusion. It's all about hormones, we'll come back to that.

When Wesker received an injury incompatible with life from Tyrant, the hormones produced at that moment triggered the V-ACT process. He went into anabiosis, transforming all the cellular tissue in his body as well as repairing the damage he had sustained.

But having gained strength through a complete reorganization of his body, he was not yet aware of the instability of the virus inside. He didn't know that the prototype doesn't «fix» in his body. Therefore, the strength provided by the virus is not eternal, weakening with time.

So Wesker has to take PG67A/W regularly to re-secure the virus inside and stay strong. An insufficient dose of PG67A/W can cause malaise, and a large dose becomes poison. Which is what happened in re5 when Chris and Sheva injected him with the substance an extra two times. He experienced pain, and then presumably his powers escalated to the point where he no longer had control over them and they lost usefulness.

His son, Jake, also inherited genes and special immunity, which is why most viruses are harmless to him, but also do not give any advantages.

The fact that the forces of an overdose are not lost, proves the moment when Wesker easily damages the rocket with his bare hand.

Now back to the subject of hormones. Not only do they provoke viral activation, but they are a completely controlling element. Wesker, when provoking his emotions, can change the density of his own body, which also causes bioluminescence in his eyes. I noticed this when rewatching the re5 cutscenes. Always when he is about to strike, his eyes start to glow. Glow is emotion, and emotion is hormones.

This is why Excella can free pierce his skin with a needle and inject the drug, because at this point Wesker is calm and his body density is close to that of a human. In battle, his body is like a stone, it hurts Chris to hit him and this can be seen in his animations.

[The end of an optional fragment]

The injections are another painful element that robs Wesker of his sense of self-worth and freedom. Therefore, coupled with the fear of losing himself, he has an inferiority complex. This complex manifests itself outwardly in a superiority complex - in arrogance, an inflated ego, which we see in his behavior. This is the answer to the question of many people, why he behaves this way. Not considering himself a full member of society, not considering himself suitable for ordinary life, Wesker begins to believe that he is above «all that» and calls himself God, in other words self-deception.

An inflated ego is the result of psychological defense, a sign of hidden fears (loss of self). It also indicates the presence of insecurity, which he tries to hide by creating a strong image for the outside world. However, like many people with large egos, Wesker has a fragile self-esteem, which is why he hates so much the rude Chris who initially discerned his weak side. His self-esteem is closely tied to his ego, so with the image he has created, Wesker protects a side of himself that he never shows to others. He hides it even from himself, as I mentioned earlier.

I thought Jake's AI words would be perfect here:

This is the only fragment where I decided to have fun with AI, but it gave me something that really makes sense.

I would like to summarize, because the analysis turned out to be long, and something towards the end may have already slipped the reader's mind. So... What do we know?

Because of his nonstandard childhood and obsessive upbringing, Wesker has an unhealthy and extremely vulnerable self-esteem. By deceiving himself, he began to consider himself superior to everything ordinary, and to believe that he is simply not made for this cruel and unfair world with wars and diseases, so he dreams of creating «his own world», where there will be «equal» people, so that he will no longer feel superfluous.

Also, because of his childhood, he is withdrawn to the point where he hides his true feelings and needs even from himself. He feels safe as long as no one knows what he cares about. If you don't know what a person cares about, you can't manipulate him. And if he doesn't care about anything, he is invulnerable. He is afraid to be himself and express it. He himself doesn't know what «he» is really like. Judging by his phrases in the game, Wesker would like acceptance, but would never admit it openly.

It is also an echo of an effect he has been under the influence of all his life - the «fear of losing himself». This fear has become a convenient pattern of behavior in his life: pretending not to care about anything and believing it. People with this fear need to appear indifferent, not letting anyone know that anything matters to them.

But what is «fear of losing yourself»? It is the phobia that someone more powerful can manipulate you and take away your sense of security, of reliability, whereupon you no longer consider yourself strong and confident. Wesker felt for years that he was under Spencer's strong influence, his puppet, which cemented the «fear of losing himself» even deeper. Every step in his life was not his personal choice but Spencer's, Wesker was only made to think that he was acting on his own free will.

Loneliness and lack of empathy were also his eternal companions. Never having friends, never having family and support, and never having anyone that Wesker could cherish. And no one who would have treasured him. That's why he's so fixated on himself, because if he loses the only thing he has, he'll have nothing left at all. That's why he prioritizes pragmatism over emotion, easily betraying anyone and replacing one with another. But he also tends to cling to the past, sometimes betraying his pragmatism.

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

Due to a misunderstanding, I would like to supplement my text. This analysis is only my personal interpretation and my personal view of the character and his story. I do not claim that it is 100% canon, because canon is so vague and disjointed that it is impossible to fully assemble it objectively. Everyone is entitled to have an interpretation different from mine. Best wishes to all!

[creature-wizard]

Manifestation Without Woo: Changing Your Brain

So let's talk about your brain. Every life experience changes the way your brain works in some way.

If a beloved family member favors a certain kind of candy, your brain will likely wire itself to produce positive feelings when you see that candy. But if someone cruel to you favors a certain style of shirt, your brain will likely wire itself to produce negative feelings when you see that shirt.

If you grew up with caregivers who neglected you or broke their promises, your brain probably wired itself not to trust other people, and to only rely on yourself.

If you grew up in poverty, or if your parents always refused to get you nice things for any reason, your brain may have wired itself to see nice/expensive things as inherently unattainable.

If you were always comparing your looks against glossy airbrushed celebrities, your brain may have wired itself to perceive the way you look as inadequate, maybe even ugly.

If people were always telling you that you were stupid, ugly, lazy, worthless, or whatever, your brain may have wired these beliefs in.

Thus it's possible to accumulate many negative beliefs that get in the way of happiness and self-fulfillment. And it sucks. But there's good news - your brain structure is changeable. This is called neuroplasticity.

So how do you do it? Simple: You make your brain re-wire itself by telling and showing it a different narrative.

Techniques and practices such as affirmations, writing scripts, visualization boards are all excellent ways to do this. All of those techniques for changing your self-concept are really techniques for rewiring your brain!

Also, your brain will rewire itself better if you're less stressed out and getting proper nutrition and hydration. This is why stuff like meditation, "healing frequencies," moving around and getting exercise, adding more nutritious foods to your diet, and making sure you're getting enough water can be very helpful.

It's also important to be mindful of things that might reinforce the narrative you're tying to overwrite. For example, if you feel like you're worthless because you're ugly, hanging out with people who call others ugly as an insult probably won't be good for you. If you're insecure about your intelligence, you might want to hold off on watching movies that feature supergeniuses as main characters. If there's anything that might be feeding your negative beliefs, try and cut it out of your mental diet for awhile, and see if it makes a difference.

Affirmations, scripts, etc. that reinforce a narrative of needing to be better than others, or needing to meet some arbitrary level of success to have value can also reinforce negative narratives. Are you telling yourself that you're the most beautiful/handsome? Stop that. Tell yourself that you're attractive, period. Are you telling yourself that you're a "high-value person"? Again, stop that. Just tell yourself that you deserve love and respect.

Also, if you're dealing with mental illness, you shouldn't really expect this to be a full-on cure for it. You might be able to rewire your brain in a way that your mental illness is less impactful, but that doesn't mean you won't stop experiencing symptoms in some way. It's okay if you still need medication, professional therapy, etc.

Finally, remember: what you are doing is a natural, organic process - you're making your brain grow differently. This means it'll take time! You can't expect yourself to get overnight results any more than you can expect an acorn to turn into a whole oak tree overnight. Anyone out there telling you that you can just do this overnight without any effort has probably already rewired their brain a lot more than they realize, and underestimates how much work it took them to get where they are.

[lua-magic]

Astrological remedies of Rahu and Ketu.

Moon Rahu

Consequences - Heightened emotions, no emotional control, OCD, can cry very easily.

Remidies - Stay near water bodies or spend more time in water, like take long showers especially, when you drink water sit and drink water, don't drink water in hurry .

Moon Ketu

Consequences - Isolation, depression, disconnection from emotions, can't express feelings, deep thinking..

Remidies - Drink more water, and follow some spiritual practices where you can connect to the universe easily, like tarot, Astrology, or any kind of divination where you can get answers from the universe directly.

Sun Rahu

Consequences - Feel direction less, under confident, Imposter syndrome, problems in making descisions, lust, and greed for name and fame.

Remidies - Try to spend sometime in Sun always, never disrespect your father or father like figure in your life, if you have issues with Father then forgive and let go.

Sun Ketu (Positive)

Consequences - Isolation, problems with father or child, problem with connection with family,

Remidies - Ketu is letting go and charity, do charity.

Mercury Rahu-

Consequences - Problems in communication, social anxiety, frequent misunderstanding or disputes with friends.

Remedies- Read more books especially about successful people and autobiography and keep your books and stationary items properly and organised

Mercury Ketu (Positive)

Consequences problems with expression, connecting with people and expressing their thoughts and emotions

Remidies - Start writing, especially, scripting your thoughts and desires, maintain a diary where you write everything that you can't express publicly.

Venus- Rahu

Consequences This combination spoils your Jupiter and native would be pulled towards immoral activities and lust and greed. Native has strong sexual attraction towards opposite sex thatvoften become the reason of heart breaks.

Remidies - Native should read or listen to more spiritual books and follow spirituality and morality.

Venus Ketu

Consequences: Venus is money and luxury often native feel detached from luxury and money and sometimes faces issues with money .

Remedies Ketu is your gratitude , so be be grateful to everything especially to your money, and have spiritual approach towards money, you can earn money from spirituality as well

Mars Rahu

Consequences One of the most tricky conjunction to handle as native would become extremely agressive or anxious, sometimes obsessed with bed pleasure.

Remedies - Native should spend more time with nature especially with the green plants and if possible learn gardening and surround yourself with green plants.

Mars Ketu

Consequences Blocks within body, no focus in life, frequent cuts, pain and surgery, feel energetically low

Remedies - Native should go for grounding, ie walking bare foot in nature and involve in daily exercise routine. don't sit for long time and keep your body moving..

Jupiter Rahu

Consequences This conjunction harms the Jupiter and again person goes against their religion and morality, especially, if Rahu becomes strong then native get frequent negative thoughts and makes lot of wrong decisions because native doesn't like to listen to anyone's advice. .

Remedies Have some teacher or mentor in your life and whenever you have to make decisions in life then refer to your guru or teacher or take advice from experienced person and then move ahead in life , Never disrespect elder people and never bad mouth anyone

Jupiter ketu (positive)

This combination, pulls native towards spirituality and to get more knowledge in life

Person would be drawn to meditation and divine.

However, native usually, think small, and like to have simple living

Remedies - ketu is giving and Jupiter is knowledge, give your knowledge as much as you can, have spiritual guru in your life that can help you to evolve spiritually.

Saturn Rahu

Consequences -Again tricky combination, Saturn and Rahu when becomes strong, it damages your Mars, sun and Moon.

Mars when becomes weak it gives issues with focus

Moon when becomes weak it creates emotional issues.

Sun when becomes weak it gives you false ego and person can't handle criticism .

Remedies Do breathing exercises daily, especially deep breaths, control your emotions especially anger issues learn to be quiet, stay humble especially when someone is criticing you, because Saturn is service so don't bring your ego in your work

Saturn ketu

Consequences:

There are two kind of natives, one who is extremely successful and other who are not settled in work or can't find suitable work, there is no in between.

Remedies If you are finding hard to settle in work especially, routine jobs then practice occult, astrology and some kind of divination, ketu is also your intuition, so always follow your intuition when it comes to work

Saturn is work and ketu is charity or problem solving, so try to help as many people as you can through your work.

If you have ketu or Saturn in sixth house then feed animals regularly and don't use any products made from animal skin.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Best Jeanist: You need to be the ultimate force. I have a new skill I'd like to teach you that will help you to incorporate yourself into the tapestry of our diverse local community.

Bakugo: Okay, bring it on!!

Best Jeanist: Today we will work to help you master the ancient art of...cursive.

Bakugo: Eh?

Best Jeanist: It's best to have practical experience. The ways you interact with the public and craft your image are vital to sewing the threads of your success.

Best Jeanist: We will write letters to the local nursing home to raise the spirits of the elderly, and you will write each card out in fashionable cursive.

Bakugo: *seethes*

*Two Hours Later*

Bakugo: *Furiously muttering under his breath while writing the most beautiful cursive on doily greeting cards*

Best Jeanist: *grabbing a card to review Katsuki's work, nods approvingly when he sees the elegant script* I'm proud of the way you've embraced the fiber of this exercise.

Bakugo: I need to prove that I'm the best at everything I do, of course I can write some flowery letters!!

*Several days later, at the nursing home*

Elderly Woman: *reading card aloud to her friends* "Dear Old Person, I hope you don't die anytime soon." What a thoughtful young student - and what absolutely lovely handwriting!

[comicaurora]

Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.

My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)

You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝

Woo! Interesting questions!

When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.

The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.

The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.

This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.

When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.

If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.

I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.

I hope there was something helpful in all this!

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 7

(A/N) Okay, writing alive!Alastor is a lot of fun. Also, I'll already put out a warning for the next part. It will be a though one.

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: some more murder, foreshadowing, kisses

Synopsis: He remembers you. Finally.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Alastor couldn’t deny that he was somewhat nervous. After all, he had just killed his boss. No matter how much he tried to concentrate on his work and script for tonight, he kept seeing the bloodied body of the man in front of him. And it made him smile. The rush he had felt…was addicting and in his mind, he was already choosing his next victim.

But before he could do that, he had a show to deliver. And knowing that you were among the listeners gave him the boost he needed to finish his script and slowly get ready. While he was in is office, doing vocal warm-up exercises, he thought of you, how you were probably on the bus at the moment, on your way to the tiny apartment that you called home.

If only you’d let him, he could offer you so much more. A house, with a nice backyard where you could plant your favorite flowers. He would build a swing for the two of you and maybe you could get a dog. Something to protect you while he was gone. You could finally quit your job here and escape this thankless, misogynistic place.

He would put the prettiest, little ring on your finger and wear his own with pride. He would take you to his mama and introduce you, sure she’d love you just as much as he did. He would brag to anyone who’d listen that you're his. His best friend. His lover. His wife. The mother of his children. Children…he would put as many in you as you’d allow. And he’d be a better father than his own ever was.

He could see it clear as day, his life with you.

“Al? You have two minutes until you’re on air?”

The voice of the radio host’s assistant brought him back to reality and he jumped slightly in surprise.

“Oh, of course, my apologies.”

With quick steps, Alastor rushed to the booth he was hosting from and quickly got settled, just in time for the red light above the door to turn on and the music to end.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to today’s late show. I’m your host, as usual, Alastor! What a lovely evening folks, gotta say, I’m kind of jealous that I’m in here, while ya’ll can enjoy the outside.”

He took a practiced pause before continuing his spiel, talking about some nonsense before he started the first song. As soon as his microphone was muted, he took a deep, relaxing breath and glanced out the large window into the room, where the assistant was supervising the show and taking phone calls from listeners. He gave him a thumbs-up to signal that everything was going smoothly and he nodded in return.

After the song was over, Alastor took the time to talk about the 19th amendment, knowing that you’d have to go to bed soon and he wanted you to hear him talk about it.

“All in all, it’s an important step in America’s history folks, and all I can do is hope that everyone in Congress sees reason and votes in favor. If not…well that’s just proof that this country is ruled by old, fat, ignorant men. And if you don’t agree with me, there is this handy little dial on your radio, you can use to switch to a different channel.”

He knew that he’d get in trouble for that little stab at his listeners, but the image of you giggling about the comment made it worth it. His own smile grew into a smirk that stayed on for the rest of the night until another host took his spot and Alastor could finally go home. On his way out of the building, he noticed the police presence. The body had finally been found.

Acting confused, he joined a small group of coworkers who were whispering to each other in the lobby. They nodded in greeting but continued with their hushed conversation until Alastor spoke.

“Do any of you know what’s going on?”

“Al…it’s your boss. He was found behind the building, dead.”

As if in shock, Alastor took a step back as his eyes widened. He even dropped his jacket which he had been carrying. He whispered his boss’s name, for once, no smile on his face.

“Are you sure? I just saw him a few hours ago. He…he can’t…”

The entire group nodded in confirmation that it was indeed his boss and Alastor blinked a few times while looking at the ground. He soon excused himself, keeping the act up until he was a few blocks away from the building. Even as he was walking away, he felt their concerned gazes on his back. If radio host doesn’t work out, he should consider becoming an actor. Or so he told himself.

On his way home, he felt his fingers itch, his eyes scanning every creature he came across, debating if he could kill them. But no, he had to be patient. After all, he already knew who his next victim would be. Maybe it was a bad idea to kill two people so closely connected, but he had wished death upon your boss from the moment he met you. The only thing he had to figure out was how to do it. But that could wait…for now.

Hell - now

“-stor? Alastor?”

You had woken up a few moments ago, confused for a second as to where you were, but as soon as you noticed Alastor next to you, you relaxed. At least until you noticed that he wasn’t moving. Or even blinking. He just stared ahead, eyes blown wide, his smile as low as you’d ever seen it. He looked…haunted.

You carefully sat up and reached for him. For once you didn’t wait for his permission before you touched him, instead just placing your hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly. You began to whisper his name, getting louder when you noticed that he didn’t react to any of it. Close to panicking, you placed your other hand on his shoulder and started to shake him with more vigor. At least until his eyes snapped up to you.

With movements so quick it took you a second to realize what had even happened, he pulled you into a tight hug, pressing you against himself and whispering your name. No…it wasn’t your name. It was a nickname he used when you were both still alive. Tears gathered in your eyes at the realization.

“You remember.”

Alastor pulled you impossibly closer, just continuing to whisper your name. Your body started to shake as quiet sobs escaped your lips. You buried your face in his neck, wetting his fur with your tears, but at that moment, neither of you cared.

The demon continued to hold you, slowly shifting you so you were sitting on his lap while he still worked through everything he just relived. How could he ever forget you? The love of his life? His best friend? His girl?

Earth - 1920s

“Well, what can I say ladies and gentlemen, the killing spree continues as another victim was found earlier today. My source in the police department reports that there are still no leads to the identity of the killer, so I urge you: to stay in after dark and stay in groups. No one is safe when it comes to that one.”

Alastor took a breath and glanced towards the window, where the radio host’s assistant once sat. But now, there was you. It’s only been a few months since he had gotten you the promotion, but the excitement of seeing you there never subsided. After all, he’d never tire of seeing you. Especially not after you finally allowed him to court you.

You had said yes shortly after Alastor had killed your boss, not that you knew about any of that back then. But the stress relief it brought you, finally allowed you to even think about dating. And after Alastor asked you out, all you could do was say yes. It started with Alastor insisting on accompanying you home after he was switched to host the afternoon show, meaning that both of you got off at the same time. After all, how could he let you walk home alone when a dangerous serial killer was roaming the streets? Especially because back then everyone was still thinking that he was specifically after people who worked at the radio station.

Him bringing you home turned into you inviting him into your apartment for a cup of coffee, into the two of you getting dinner before going home, into the two of you going to a jazz club. And one night, after you had both gotten at the very least tipsy and you complained about your old boss and the misogyny at work, Alastor was so close to confessing. Instead, he admitted that he envied whoever did it, how he would’ve loved nothing more than to do it himself. And in that moment you kissed him.

You pulled him down and pressed your lips against his in a gentle kiss. The fact that he would kill for you made warmth spread through you. You truly loved this man. But you would never know that truth. At least not in this life.

The shy smile on your lips pulled Alastor from his thoughts. He had been staring at you through the whole song and it was almost over. Usually, he would pause to talk some more, but instead, he decided to just let another one play. You raised an eyebrow as you noticed the switch in behavior, but Alastor just waved for you to join him. So you did.

You entered the room and he extended a hand towards you, pulling you onto his lap once you were close enough. You giggled as you fell against him, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckled.

“How are you doing, my love?”

You hummed, a coy smile on your lips as you gazed up at him.

“A little tired, the usual lately.”

That made Alastor frown. He had noticed that you seemed to have less energy recently, but he chalked it up to stress. With a worried look on his face, he pulled back and properly looked at you, and he quickly realized that you had lost weight. A lot of it.

How could he miss that?

“Love, I think you need to go to the doctor.”

You shook your head and started to talk about how that was too expensive, but he quickly cut you off, assuring you that he would take care of that. After a bit of bickering, you agreed to make an appointment as soon as you were back at your desk.

After one more kiss, Alastor let you go and returned to host the show, while you walked back to your desk and picked up the phone, scheduling an appointment for the next day.

Neither of you had been prepared for what you were going to find out.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice @nixie189

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[gigidragonbbxxx]

lil twist on the "movie star role"/"memoir method" for visualizing a dream life - another suggested method for the manifesting hotties

spoiler: this may help you figure out what techniques are right for you!

disclaimer: remember that these methods and techniques are just tools to get your mind saturated with thinking in your favor, stay grounded in the basics of the law and have fun with the varied tools!

I love the "movie star role" method. For those who don't know, it's a lil visualization technique where manifesting baddies act as if they're preparing to play the role of X. So if you want to be your SP's girlfriend, they "prep" for the role by living in the end state of already being SP's girlfriend. This includes embodying the attitude, saying affirmations like "I love being in a committed relationship" or "SP changed soooo much to gain my trust. We're so happy now!". Some baddies take a step further and apply it to their self-concept (this is genius btw) and begin saying affirmations like "I'm so beautiful and unforgettable, it is really not that surprising he came back begging for me. Giving him a chance was only fair with how much he groveled!"

Now, enter the "memoir method". This is usually a scripting technique but give Gigi a sec to explain! There are many variations of this method but it's essentially writing the reality you want to happen and putting the date in the future aka the deadline you wanna experience this by. Most encourage baddies to write in the past tense like "I'm so grateful I received enough money to cover my vacation, my bonuses keep increasing."

Now enter Gigi's lil twist on these methods - COMBINE THEM INTO WHAT I LIKE TO CALL:

The Interview Method

Imagine being interviewed by other loass baddies asking you "How did you achieve this?"

Visualize your dream self, the ultimate version of you that would warrant this type of attention and the answers that version of you would give.

Imagine an older Beyonce giving the "tell all" interview of a lifetime - THAT LEVEL OF HYPE.

Gigi's example:

I know I look glamorous and ageless. My skin is smooth and clear, my hair is long, inky black, blown out and curled. My body looks like an advertisement for hourglasses. The dress I'm wearing is flattering, accentuating my curves. I'm as sexy as I am elegant. The interviewer looks on with eagerness, practically spilling over with admiration.

"The Law of Assumption girlies wanna know Gigi, how the hell did you get results like this? Hollywood actresses would get insecure being in the same room as you! What are your methods? What's your daily routine?"

Now this is where the spoiler comes in! WHAT COMES TO MIND IMMEDIATELY? WHAT METHODS WOULD YOUR DREAM SELF LIKE?

bc guess what reader? all the answers are within you. your job is to let them out. coax them out with these exercises. feel empowered.

if your first reaction is: Idk Gigi. I don't know what methods work for me.

My answer to that is: then this technique is not for you. This method favors the baddies who are more familiar with the different modalities of manifesting. I encourage you to go and explore different things. Try them out. See which ones you like and then circle back to this and think about which ones resonated with you.

I encourage you to write it out. Script it as you visualize.

My own experience:

From this method I learned that my subconscious viewed my dream self as someone who was very disciplined and consistent. So I started to include these in my daily affirmations (I am disciplined, etc.). I realized that my dream self would let this quality seep into every facet of her life. I'm big into makeup and skincare so I thought, my dream self would probably affirm out loud or in her mind as she looked in the mirror and did her routine.

then the lil interviewer popped up in my head: "What happens on the days you don't feel well enough to do your routine?"

My mind (thinking in its favor) immediately went: that's rare that I don't have the discipline to stick to my routine so if I'm sick or in an emergency, I would just do a basic routine and play an affirmation tape.

I came to the conclusion that Dream Self would

be reliable

come across as intelligent - immediately

pride herself on good self-care

have a healthy relationship with SP

have friends who knew the law and would be encouraging

be calm and have a calm energy bc she knows everything is in her favor

be seen as a caring, beautiful, deep soul with much to give

never be taken for granted

always be spoiled by life - wealthy in finance and health

I also reversed this method: what would my Dream Self NOT do?

Dream Self wouldn't

talk badly about herself

put others down

get bothered by the 3D

surround herself with people who have limiting thoughts

be lazy

think that the worst would happen to her

This is the type of inner convo I want more loass baddies to have with themselves because it's important to be clear WITHIN yourself what you WANT.

and remember to have fun. Include questions about the silliest things like your favorite lipstick or fav playlist or opinions about dumb tv shows. One of my favorite visualizations is me telling the interviewer that I watched all of Sex and the City and that I vowed to never be a Carrie LOL.

okay, happy manifesting loass baddies!!

xx, gigi

[bakuliwrites]

MC Regaining Little Memories From Objects Associate w/ M6

Hi everyone! Here is another one of my headcanons from my old blog. I think this one was a request I had gotten and I really enjoyed writing this one. It was a lot of fun to try to think up some meaningful objects and scenarios. Over time, I've been trying to post some of my old headcanons on to this blog, but I do have a lot of them up on my AO3, if you are curious!

You and Asra are tidying up the shop one day when you stumble upon a broom closet in the back that you've never noticed. Curious, you attempt to turn the door handle and fortuitously discover that it is unlocked.

The room is tiny, only big enough for you and the other objects inside. There are a few random boxes of trinkets and old ingredients, but what really catches your attention is the dress in the far corner, worn by a slightly eerie, faceless mannequin.

The dress is floaty, billowing. Your fingers find the sleeves, the thin tulle delicate in your careful grasp. Even in the darkness of the closet, the dress seems to sparkle, the crystals bedazzling the neckline dancing jovially in the lamplight just outside. You've been so enamored with the dress, you hardly notice Asra's presence in the doorway behind you.

"You look beautiful, like a jellyfish floating in the gentle summer currents. Carefree and lovely," you whisper aloud. The words were familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place who had said them, or when. When you repeat them in your mind, it's Asra's voice that sounds them out. A flash of a grand party, a masquerade perhaps, dances across your vision. When you finally turn to greet Asra, you see he has tears in his eyes, reserved but joyful. He draws you into a warm embrace and something just clicks in your brain. Finally, you remember Asra and all he meant to you.

You're quietly reading one afternoon when Nadia enters the room and asks if she might play the organ for a bit. "If I'm bothering you, just say the word!" she offers, but you simply smile. You loved listening to her play, and you didn't get to hear it very often since she was usually busy.

Nadia's fingers begin skillfully dancing across the keys. She's merely warming up at first, which you still take delight in. Her talent shines through even in her simple practice exercises. The notes start to fade in the background as you settle back into your novel, finding yourself fully engrossed. Until you're suddenly drawn out of your concentration by the beginning of a song.

This song is different, though. Something about it is oddly familiar. Bittersweet, like a lost memory. The music swells, lilting and sprightly, before quieting into a melancholy hum. You suddenly find yourself overwhelmed with emotion, though you can't really place why. This music, it echoes through your mind like it once echoed through the halls of the palace, in a time you thought you'd long forgotten.

When Nadia finishes, she looks over to see you quickly wiping tears from your eyes. She opens her mouth to ask what's wrong, but you hush her with a smile. "It's been such a long time since you've played that for me," you whisper. Nadia beams knowingly, before setting off again to play for you like she used to all those years ago.

Back at Mazelinka's, you and Julian are rifling through stacks of his old papers, ones that you'd managed to pilfer from the palace. You've found nothing of any real use so far, but you have confidence that you might stumble across something.

While Julian is frantically scanning page after page, you find yourself growing still, fixating on just one of them. The edges are yellowed, frayed from water damage. But the handwriting is still legible (well, as legible as Julian's messy handwriting could possibly be). The script doesn't say anything important. It appears to just be a general note about the status of some test he was running, but it's what is written in the margins that catches your eye.

It's your handwriting, littered amongst tiny drawings of what you at first think are worms. But upon closer inspection, you see that you apparently had written, "Watch out! Getting bitten by a leech really sucks." You roll your eyes at how terrible that pun is, wondering what possessed you to write it in the first place, if that really was your handwriting. You grab some ink and a quill from your bag and start to scribble next to the writing. It's a dead ringer for your script.

You feel some happy tears sting your eyes, but when Julian asks you what's wrong, you break out into a wide smile. "You and your accursed leeches!" you exclaim, before bursting into laughter. He looks at you, a bit confused at first, before breaking down into giggles himself. Finally, he thinks, something you both remember.

You're enjoying a quiet afternoon at Portia's cottage, basking in the sunlight and sipping some tea. Portia is baking something delicious, her dress covered in flour. You offered to help, but she insists you relax. You've been hard at work these past few weeks and deserve a break.

While you're admiring a monarch butterfly that regally flits past the open window, you're hit by a sudden, strange feeling. A familiar scent wafts through the room, warm and sweet. You're practically salivating at the delightful smell. You look across the room to see Portia pulling out a light-golden cake from the oven. After she lets it cool, she brings it to the table and starts to slice into it.

Portia hands you a generous piece and offers to refresh your tea. As she's filling up your cup again, you dig into the freshly baked treat. As soon as it hits your tongue, you can taste the honey and the vanilla, comforting and cozy. It tastes like spring, like a bright memory.

You look up at Portia as she sets your tea down in front of you, your eyes full of wonder. "This is one of my favorites. How did you know?" you venture, but you already know the answer. She smiles cheekily at you. "Call it intuition," she winks. All you can do is smile, overjoyed that you reclaimed your memory of Portia's divine baking skills.

You enter Muriel's hut, soaking wet and seeking shelter from the sudden storm that raged outside. He quickly directs you to the warmth of his fireplace and gives you some dry clothes. They're much too big on you, but they'll do for now, while you wait for your own outfit to dry. Muriel exits the hut for a moment, just to bring the chickens into their shelter. As your eyes roam the room, they settle on an ornately carved mask sitting on the mantelpiece.

You rise, reaching up to grab the mask. It's beautiful, but something about it seems- familiar to you. Maybe it's pure coincidence that it resembles the animal you consider your familiar. Or maybe, there's a deeper meaning to it. It had clearly been carved with the utmost precision and care. Its colors were striking, but not gaudy. It was breathtaking.

As you turn it over in your hands, you notice some protection runes carved into the inside, just beneath the eye holes. It's like the sun suddenly broke through the storm clouds. Memories come flooding back to you. Masquerades, multiple masquerades. Asra is there, Muriel is- here, at the hut. Carving this mask, just for you.

Muriel returns, soaked now, as well. You whirl around to greet his hulking form, your brows furrowed with an emotion you can't quite place. He notices the mask in your hands and blushes a deep red, looking sheepishly away. You can't help but beam at this. "Thank you for holding onto this for me," you finally speak. He grunts a, "You're welcome," but you notice that he, too, is softly smiling.

You're sorting through a box of jewelry that Lucio's provided to you, attempting to find one that might go with your outfit. They're all his jewelry pieces, so most of them are a bit garish for your taste. But you need to select something if you're going to attend the masquerade with him that night. You pick past heavily bejeweled, oversized designer pieces, until your fingers clasp around a necklace that you could've sworn you've seen before.

The necklace is delicate, gold and studded with tiny diamonds and milky-white pearls. You hold it up against the lamplight and it glitters luminously. This is it. This is the necklace. Not only does it match your outfit's color scheme, but there's something about it that feels like it is fatefully yours.

"Are you almost ready?" Lucio whines, impatient and eager to get to the festivities. He freezes dead in his tracks when he sees what you're holding up. A blush creeps across his cheeks and he looks away, embarrassed. "Will you help me put this on?" you implore. After a moment, he hesitantly nods. He gently takes the necklace from you and unclasps it. Lucio takes his place behind you and you watch in the mirror as he draws it around your neck and fumbles with the clasp.

As he secures it to you, you're hit with a vision: someone coming up behind you at a masquerade, years ago. Deftly, they fasten the necklace around your neck. When you turn around to see who it could possibly be, you're greeted by an enigmatic figure, done up in golds and reds. Their impish smile and silver eyes are the only things visible behind their ostentatious mask. They bend down to place a kiss on the back of your hand before disappearing once again into the crowd. In the present moment, you whirl around to meet Lucio's eyes, eyes that are familiar from that masquerade so long ago.

[aethersjournal]

Hey girl!! Im into robotic affirming and I got some amazing results but idk why I have hard time ignoring the 3d. I live with my parents and they always say no do this and that and I'm fed up cuz I want to do whatever I want and whenever I do self concept and I write down a script for my parents for princess treatment. But whenever they say smth I got Upset or sad that why I'm not coming out from this reality. Sometimes I feel like giving up from my life. I'm 23 and I feel like I've lived enough. Pls advice me what to do and how to stick to my affirmations. And plus ignore the 3d while manifesting the good environment as I don't want anything bad .

Hey girl! Can totally relate to you. I am south asian so I know how triggering the family environment can seem.

First thing that I want to address is that it will get better. DON’T GIVE UP. If you feel that you need help please contact professionals. This is just loa advice but please take care of your mental health 🧡

From what I can gather from the situation is that you feel upset and maybe you think some not so good thoughts and you assume that you have ruined your manifestation.

I want to tell you that you absolutely did not. Things happen and one time or the other, we have all been really triggered by our environment.

What I want you to do everytime you “spiral”, is take a deep breath and try to clear your mind of thoughts, maybe do some EFT tapping if you want to. And then tell yourself, that you still have your desires. Go back to affirming. You don't have to believe it just repeat it.

Again, it is okay if you are getting negative thoughts as long as you flip it. I would also recommend you revise the situation that triggered you.

I always try to give you guys some practical steps and instructions to follow so I would also recommend this exercise that has really helped me. It is this revision exercise that I do and i think I have heard Sammy Ingram talk about this so credits to her.

Exercise:

(Disclaimer: You don't have to do this exercise if you don't want to or resonate with it. It is just something that has helped me in my personal experience. Even if you just follow the advice i had mentioned above and stick to it, you will get your results.

Also, you can alter this exercise to fit your preferences and decide if you want to visualise or hear thoughts.)

When it is night time and you are about to go to sleep. I want you to meditate. Now once the your mind is more focused, I want you to think back to your day.

Replay it but this time I want you to play a different script in your mind. If anything unfavorable happened or if something you wanted did not happen, imagine that it went exactly your way instead.

Replay it over and over again until you feel satisfied. You can turn this into sats and fall asleep.

Do this everynight along with regular affirming during the day.

Sorry if this is a long reply but in short do what you need to do in the 3d, acknowledge your feelings, cry it out.

All you need to do is come back to imagination again and affirm/think thoughts in line with your desires.

The more and more you practice this. The easier it will get over time.

Our brain is not used to thinking in favor of our desires due to societal conditioning. What we are doing is retraining it to think how we want it to think.

Anyways, I really hope this helped you. 🧡

Don't give up, your life is precious 🫶🏻. If you know about the law it's cause you were meant to.

[honeytonedhottie]

building a new life and identity໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ ʚ🐇ɞ 🌸

building a new identity and life for urself is actually easier than it sounds. u only need to commit to the new identity.

who is the person that u want to be? how do they act? what is their education? that’s the first question to ask urself. i talked about a garden analogy in one of my previous posts but just in case u missed that i’ll remind u:

so basically imagine urself as a gardener and ur life is ur garden. it’s boundless. u can fill the garden with flowers 🌸 and plants, anything u desire really. think of ur desires as the flowers that u fill ur garden 🪴 with. the plants that u water the most or the pay the most attention to will grow beautifully. this is how manifestation is. 

so what i’ve been doing lately is keeping 2-3 affirmations on loop in my brain whenever i get a minute to. (kinda like when u put something on queue in ur mind) when im doing mindless activities or something. i’ll repeat the affirmations in my mind OR out loud. but i’ll only do this when i want to. (cuz nothing in manifestation should be forced) 

doing this, i kinda imagine my affirmations as watering my manifestations 🪷. now that we’ve established setting up ur garden, let’s FILL it. (this is the funnest part) i want u to write down who u desire to be as though u were already that person living that life. so you’d title ur page (who i am) 

my name is ___ i am ___ years old 

ur personality and character traits 

ur skills and talents 

ur appearance 

ur self concept and how life treats u 

ur education 

ur relationships

how long it takes u to get everything u want 

literally EVERYTHING. this is scripting. ur creating a script in which ur reality will follow. next we need to PRACTICE the script. 

how do we do that? being delulu, affirming, manifestation exercises, daydreaming, SATS, literally PRETENDING. fulfilling urself in ur imagination is u practicing the script. 

once the script is persisted in enough and we’ll practiced you’ll see it play out in ur life. congratulations, you’ve built a new life and identity for urself <3

[blacktabbygames]

Good mornighternoon. Do you have any advice on making writing and/or coding branching dialogue less confusing?

It's always going to be confusing and difficult to keep track of branching, but here's some things that I think have helped. Gonna break this down into a few sections to make it a little easier to follow.

Foundations and Research

So much practice for me came from being obsessed with Bioware games growing up, especially Dragon Age and Mass Effect — just keeping track of complicated branching world states in complex games you already enjoy is extremely good exercise, and the best way to get better at thinking about a medium is to consume and discuss things in that medium.

Building on that, I think that the best media to take a deep dive into to improve your own craft is something that you really like, but that feels like it missed the mark in a few areas that are important to you. Again, revisiting Mass Effect and Dragon Age, I absolutely loved the way that those games set up challenging decisions, but was frustrated at how easy it was to circumvent those choices entirely. By the time Abby and I started work on Scarlet Hollow, I feel like I had a strong foundation from obsessively consuming those works and the two of us discussing at length how we wanted to handle branching compared to games we've enjoyed in the past.

The Big Picture

The bigger your project, the more important it is to have intentionality to your choices. With both Scarlet Hollow and Slay the Princess, we decided on the major themes of the story and wrote down and outlined all of our Big Plot Points before we wrote a word of the actual script.

It can also help to come up with Rules for your piece that fit within your outline. These aren't necessarily ever words that are directly communicated in the game, but rather something for you to personally follow (and to break, on occasion). To give some examples of rules we've come up with for Scarlet Hollow: Every chapter must have a "major" decision with seemingly only bad outcomes towards the end. Each of these decisions must have a secret "out" mapped to a trait. Each trait gets exactly one out. Every episode must contain at least one decision where the focus is the player's relationship with Tabitha. The story must come back together in a recognizable structure after a split. As an extension of that last point, subsequent playthroughs must feel both Similar and Different. Again, these aren't hard and fast rules, and one of the joys of writing is knowing which rules you should break and when you can break them. (So if you're reading this post and trying to use it to theorize about future plot developments, good luck!)

Having a finished outline and rules are important because then, as you work on the minutiae, you'll already have a strong framework to build around. Suddenly, when you're crafting decisions and thinking about cascading consequences, you're not just branching out into an infinite void: instead, you're actively working to draw everything into a set of predetermined thematic and structural points.

The Little Details

When it's time to write your script, it's very important to remain focused in the moment — if you think too long about the scale of a branching narrative and the work it requires, you'll find yourself easily overwhelmed. Just work on one menu at a time in one scene at a time, and you'll find a way to keep things straight and to get it done.

When writing a menu, define your player's options with intent. What are the things (within reason) that you would want to do in a scene? What emotional range do you want to grant the player? Do two options cover the same intent and emotionality? If so, condense them, and keep the option that's more fun.

Emotionality is very important here, so I want to take an extra line to emphasize it. Ask yourself, "what are the different reactions a player might have to this, emotionally" and find a way to let them express those emotions. Letting them express those emotions doesn't always mean you let the *action* behind those emotions work — it's more about acknowledging those feelings and letting them bake into the narrative.

Bolding this one because it's very important track everything. A lot of the callbacks and references in Scarlet Hollow aren't actually pre-planned — we just make sure to track most player decisions so if we realize we want to make a reference to something that might have happened, there's already a variable in place for it. An example of this that comes to mind is the "dead moms" callback in Episode 4, which we didn't plan in advance, but when we realized how right that callback was for that scene, we already had that information tracked.

I think I accidentally talked about a lot of stuff outside the scope of your question, but narrative design is such an interesting subject and I like talking about it. Hopefully this is helpful!

[cardicoven]

🥀Book Review: Persephone's Pathway: Wisdom, Magick & Growth by Jennifer Heather

Full Title: Persephone's Pathway: Wisdom, Magick, Growth Author: Jennifer Heather Published by: Heather Publishing (seemingly self published) 2020 Good Reads: Link My Quick Review: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4/5) stars. Persephone’s Pathway which while flawed and at times meandering is perhaps the best resource available for the modern pagan worshipping or working with Persephone and I wholly recommend it. Official Blurb: Persephone's Pathway is one of balance and duality; embrace the dual goddess archetype of Underworld Queen and Spring Maiden in order to achieve harmony. This book shares the wisdom of Persephone, along with spells and rituals to help you in your daily life. Shadow work exercises encourage you to work with the Underworld aspect of the Dark Goddess, whilst flower magick celebrates the joy and gentleness of the Spring Goddess. Blend the dark and light aspects together to experience how they shine a light on each other in this celebration of wholeness and authenticity. Personal Reason for Purchasing: Was looking for a pagan/witchy perspective on Persephone and stubbled across this one. (Bought from Amazon UK)

Overview of the book's contents. Introduction: A solid introduction, focusing on what the purpose of this book will be, and the author’s goals in writing it, namely ‘an exploration of the mythology and Symbolism surrounding Persephone, along with chapters dedicated to a facet of what she can teach us’, ‘both a collection of information and tribute to her’. Chapter 1: 'Who is Persephone': Introduction to Persephone, her role, dual nature, The Eleusinian mysteries, possible connections to Erishkegal (a mesopotamia goddess originating 4000 BC), and of course the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Chapter 2: 'Historic Origins': An exploration of the genesis of Persephone in Mythology, through to the Evolution of her story in present day literature. (A personal highlight). Chapter 3: 'A Myth Retold': A modern retelling of the hymn to Demeter by the author. Chapter 4: 'Symbolism': An exploration of the artefacts associated with Persephone, both modern and ancient, the creation of a unique glyph/sigil for Persephone and an extensive and detailed discussion of association/correspondences, some ancient, some contemporary and lastly her common epithets. Chapter 5: 'Creating an Altar': A collection of suggestions and guidelines on creating your own altar for Persephone and common offerings to gift the Goddess. Chapter 6: 'Persephone Magick: Begins with a basic beginners to magickal practice, followed by a recipe for a Persephone Anointing oils, a guide to connecting to Persephone, an innovation and an adaption of the Orphic Hymn to Proserpina.

The Seeds of Persephone A collection of chapters surrounding what the Author considers to be the six core aspects/values which Persephone embodies. Seed 1: 'Union': Focuses on Shadow-work, divine alignment for body and Spirit union, and includes a spell for Spiritual union of lovers, guidance surrounding meditation, shadow-work rituals, and a recipe for a love attraction oil. Seed 2: 'Balance': Begins with a discussion of how to, and the importance of maintaining balance in one’s life, including a meandering discussion of grounding, living with the seasons, incorporating nature into your life, meditation, seasonal altars, self-care, massage, and yoga. Lastly it includes recipes for a Persephone Beauty Elixer’ cream/lotion, a medicinal tonic, a spell for resolution, and a spell for making a decision. Seed 3: 'Intuition': Looks at ways to develop one’s intuition, including an outline for a Persephone focused Lithomancy technique (10 planetary stones, 6 Persephone stones (named for each of the author’s ‘Seeds’: Fertility, Justice, Balance, Union, Sovereignty and Intuition), three tarot spreads and the script for a guided meditation. Seed 4: 'Sovereignty': Is a discussion of [personal Sovereignty, and self-esteem, with journal prompts. Guidance on enchanting a power talisman, and a spell for protecting personal boundaries. Seed 5: 'Justice': Focuses heavily on Persephone in her Queen of the Underworld Aspect, touching on several myths in which she acted as a Purveyor of justice, (Orpheus and Psyche, and a discussion on Trust in regards to the Goddess. Followed by Several spells for truth telling, reflection on behaviour and fair resolutions. Seed 6: 'Fertility': Focuses on Persephone's Spring/Maiden Aspect. Followed by a discussion of Maiden goddesses, Flower Magick, creating Floral elixirs, cleansing sprays, a flower bathing ritual, and spell jars/Witch’s bottles. Followed by the Associations/correspondences and finally a script of a guided meditation, to meet Persephone in her Spring Aspect. Appendix: The Orphic hymn to Proserpina, translated by Taylor Thomas 1792.

Personal Thoughts and Review. I’m conflicted about this book. The first half is an excellent primer on Persephone and including her into one’s personal practice however, the second half the ‘Seeds of Persephone’ are at times Meandering, unfocused and clumsy, but there are jewels among the ramblings.

The book appears to be self published, so I’m inclined to be kinder to the Author than I would otherwise be; however, Persephone’s Pathway could really use reformatting (text justified etc), and would benefit immensely from an informed and passionate editor. Nevertheless this book is an excellent edition to the libraries of those of us who work with Persephone.

Aspects in detail. General content: The first half goes over a lot of content around Persephone, in some detail and is appropriately referenced through allowing the reader to research further. The Second half (the Seeds) is a mixed bag and approaches certain subjects extremely casually, namely Shadow-work and herbal medicine. Persephone’s correspondences: Primarily contained to Chapter 4, the Correspondences are in depth, reference and diverse. However, there are inaccuracies, the most obvious is a mention of Corn/Maize being cut as a part of the Eleusinian Mysteries. As a New World crop Corn was not in ancient Greece at the time and as such has no historical connection to the Mysteries. From my own understanding the crop cut during the Mysteries was likely Barley, a grain though to have great significance to the Eleusinian Mysteries as a part of the hallucinogenic cocktail thought to be drunk by initiates, barley is also part of the offering given by Oddyseus to summon Persephone (“first with milk and honey, then with sweet wine, then with water; and sprinkle white barley-meal above”). Rituals and Spells: It’s Always interesting to see another practitioner's approach, and covering a very broad scope although, I wish they were indexed since they appear throughout the book. Origin Myth retelling: An interesting retelling, possibly my favourite version, however it is not without flaws. Guided Meditations: Enjoyable and Interesting, these scripts approach many aspects of Persephone’s Mythos. Journaling Prompts: These appear seemingly at random in the latter half of the book, but are nevertheless thought provoking. Recommended Reading: While good to see, it is worthy of note that none of these books reference Persephone, Hellenic Polytheism, or Shadow-work. Which are the topics I would like to see additional material given some of my concerns with the book itself. Bibliography: Extensive and good practice.

The Seeds in Detail. Given their significance to the book I’ll review these chapters separately: Union: a clumsy chapter whose advice on Shadow-work is surface level and possibly dangerous for a beginner or someone who is mentally vulnerable. But this chapter does handle the topic of Love workings with the required levity. Balance: Waffling and honestly feels like filler, of the seeds this one is disappointing and feels like lost potential. Intuition: a major highlight of the book, a detailed exploration of Lithomancy, well written and thought provoking. Sovereignty: A good chapter, if a little long winded. Justice: Spectacular, discussion of Queen Persephone and of how to connect to the Underworld Aspect. A personal highlight. Fertility: An excellent close to the book but desperately needs reformatting.

Final Thoughts. I wholly recommend this book especially as a gateway into working with or worshipping Persephone. Despite its flaws, it is the best resource I’ve found on Persephone from a pagan/witch perspective, and my practice is better for reading it.

[sundrop-writes]

Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part One: The Psychic and The Tiger

Summary:

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship.

Nothing except maybe... your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn't possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right?

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 13,100

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst (on the basis of mutual angst but they’re both deep in denial), accidental invasion of someone’s privacy (by accidentally reading their mind), some light canon violence (practice sparring/practice fighting), the reader character is disabled - the reader character is 100% mute, the reader character suffered with tumors that were partially cured by Doctor Caulder’s serum, the reader character suffers from migraines and seizures due to remaining brain tumors, the reader character has the ability to read minds, the reader character uses ASL because she is mute, mentions of the reader character having insomnia/difficulty sleeping, mentions of Rachel having a one-sided crush on Gar, the reader is described to exercise a lot and be physically fit but I don’t allot that to a certain body type (I am not excluding her from being fat when I write this), in a lot of passages - the reader is implied to be fat actually, mentions of the reader masturbating, a wholesome family game night that doesn’t really belong in a smut fic lmao, somewhat graphic descriptions of vomit (from illness) (it only occurs in one short section of the fic), passing mentions of disordered eating - but not due to poor body image or mental illness more in the form of restrictions on ‘junk food’ and not eating properly at meal times, dream sequences involving sex - hair-pulling, groping, biting, making out, (implied) shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penis in vagina sex (unprotected), mind fucking (but not in the way that you think - sharing sex with someone while having a sexual connection). All of the smut/sex in this chapter is of the day dream variety, but it is still described in graphic/detailed ways. I believe that is everything. 

A/N: I find it so ironic that this was freshly reposted on my other blog when I got shadowbanned. So let's try this again, shall we? At least this is beautifully edited and updated for your eyes. I think this is literally the perfect version of this fic with the new additional scenes. So if this is your first time reading it, please enjoy, and if you have read it before, I hope you can enjoy it again. And because I am back in my Titans era again - definitely stick around for more of my Gar bullshit. I love him with my whole heart, and there will definitely be more Gar stuff from me.

...

Mind reading is most definitely not what people think it is. 

It’s not at all how movies portray it to be. And it’s definitely not how you imagine it to be when you think about having the ability to access someone’s private thoughts. 

To this day, you still remembered when Gar showed you the British television show Misfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the character’s mind reading power was portrayed. 

To most of Hollywood, it’s as if a person’s thoughts were a simple string of words laid out in their head, a simple script being read in their voice. As if you can accidentally overhear someone thinking about a certain topic, like one overhears a conversation. 

In reality, it was vastly different for you. 

There was no easy way to explain it, to describe the way it felt to enter the complex vastness of the human mind, but you often tried to put it into words. For one, you were thankful that it took you concentration and intent to use your powers. You never accidentally overheard someone’s thoughts the way a person can hear voices or loud music, or a television in the next room. It kept you from a lot of awkward situations. And most importantly to you, it kept you from barreling into a person’s most private space - the sacred stronghold of their mind - unless it was deemed completely necessary. 

From what you had realized, it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind. 

“Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked when he had discovered this about your powers. 

Ironic. Thematic, actually, considering that his serum had cured you of a physical blindness. One caused by a brain tumor that any doctor was too afraid to operate on in order to remove. Doctor Caulder liked to credit himself and his serum with giving you the gift of ‘a greater sight’, one that allowed you to peer deep inside others. A gift that he said allowed you to help people. 

To you, though, more often than not, it just felt like invading people’s privacy. And that was something you definitely didn’t enjoy - whether it was ‘helping’ people or not. 

Something you had learned during the minimal amount of time you had used your powers: people can be divided into two types of thinkers. That you found out very quickly. 

The first type are people whose thoughts come in the form of rich, visual landscapes. People who show off their thoughts almost purely with visuals, imagining things that might happen, remembering things that already have in vivid detail. Those people are typically the easiest to navigate, in your experience - but their memories can be the most painful and vivid if you go too deep. 

The second type are people whose thoughts come more in the form of narration - a voice inside their head speaking about their intentions or the information pumping through their mind. 

Although, unlike what most people would think, that voice is not usually their own. 

Most times it is the voice of a mentor or parent, someone who guided and built their thoughts from childhood, someone whose voice sounds firm and thoughtful in their mind. Or sometimes it could even be the voice of a TV character or a radio host, because listening to that piece of media so often caused that voice to clone in their mind and become stuck there accidentally. 

Entering the mind of someone like this can be tricky - their thoughts are difficult to navigate, because they are hard to grasp and become tangible. 

Occasionally you come across someone with a more unique mental landscape, someone in emotional turmoil or someone who simply never had a linear train of thought to begin with. Entering the mind of someone like this is more like a thousand screaming voices and flashing lights, all at once. Incredibly difficult to decipher, a sensory overload to take in.  

But those are only surface level thoughts. Your powers gave you the ability to dive deep into the cave of someone’s mind, to explore the winding halls of their memories, their subconscious. To feel their emotions, to help them work through their traumas, their pain. If they allowed you to delve that deep. Only if they invited you in. 

More often than not, you simply preferred to stay the hell out of other people’s minds. To simply give them the privacy they were owed. 

Which is why when it happened - when your powers started slipping out of your control on that stupid fucking day - you hated it more than you could be proud of it. Even if the information you discovered cemented a dream into reality that you’d been having since the day you met Garfield Logan. 

It had been a Saturday morning like any other. 

Well, one as routine as to be expected when living the Titans lifestyle. 

Moving into the Tower was actually nice to attempt to put down roots considering what you had been through over the past year or so. When you originally uprooted your life in Covington, Ohio to follow Gar, you certainly hadn’t expected the wild path he would lead you on. A path that would lead to you getting kidnapped by a doomsday cult and tortured, being lured to a house in the middle of nowhere and mentally tortured some more. All in all leaving that house with absolutely no sense of direction in your life, mentally scarred and broken. 

But you never blamed Gar for getting you into trouble. In fact, you were glad to be there to support him through everything that had happened. 

Gar was your best friend, your person, and you would have followed him anywhere. 

So naturally when he moved into the newly reopened Titans Tower, so did you. Dick didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, because in order to show people, you had to violate their privacy, and it wasn’t always something you were keen on doing. He simply trusted Gar at his word that you were more than capable of becoming a Titan. 

That blind faith Dick had put in you, backed by Gar’s word, that heavily motivated you to train hard in all other areas to ensure that Dick knew Gar could be trusted. To pull through on that promise and show your worth. 

That’s why you were up so early that morning. You liked to get a head start on things. You liked to be up before everyone else to prove that you were working hard on your training, working hard on studying the things that Dick wanted you to know. 

At least, those were the excuses you had prepared if anyone asked. Or the things you told yourself to escape the reality of it - to say that you were using your time wisely these days. 

Truthfully, you were never very good with sleeping. 

Between your chronic headaches, pain that left intense aches down your neck and spine, and the awful nausea that it plagued you with, and the strange dreams that your powers seemed to be paired with, you didn’t often get much sleep. 

You were still figuring out how your incredibly strange dreams coincided with your ability to breach other people’s private thoughts. But you guessed that it was simply part of that whole ‘greater sight’ thing. Especially considering that those dreams seemed to depict the future in some way. 

You often found your sleep disrupted by these dreams - visions of death or violence or even strange faces you had never seen before. And more often than not, you decided to pursue more productive activities than tossing and turning in your sheets until your alarm rang. 

Strangely enough, one of the very first dreams you’d had after being injected with the serum had been a strange setting where you were garbed in a giant, poofy white wedding dress, getting married to a large green tiger who wore a black bowtie among his bright green fur. At the time, you had genuinely convinced yourself that it was just a strange fever dream caused by the serum. Up until you’d met Gar, and something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was the green tiger in question. 

But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would.

It’s something that was very far from your mind as you enjoyed breakfast early that morning. 

Dick usually let everyone ‘sleep in’ on Saturdays - as much as Jason complained that sleeping until eight was not a luxury, he and the others usually still took advantage of it. But you were up long before sunrise on that day. 

You were sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly snacking on some dry cereal with your journal open in front of you. You were sketching a picture of something you had seen in one of your dreams. A girl with waves of silver hair and eyepatch that you didn’t recognize, but had a gut feeling was important somehow. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming into the room, and found yourself surprised but happy to see that it was Gar. 

He was clearly still half asleep, his eyes barely open. He wore plaid pajama pants and a green pullover hoodie, hair still adorably messy and uncombed. He looked so utterly soft and cuddly, something that made those undeniable butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach. 

When you looked over at the clock attached to the stove, it was barely five-thirty in the morning. The sun was just kissing the sky orange to your right, casting a warm orange glow across the entire room through the many tall windows. You were almost shocked that anything other than Dick’s fist hammering on Gar’s door had gotten him out of bed this early. 

“Morning.” He grunted at you as he tiredly stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it with haste and grabbed the carton of orange juice. 

Of course. He wanted a snack. 

He uncapped it and gulped it with enthusiasm, not bothering to get a glass or even close the refrigerator door. The sharp light of the halogen bulbs and the cool air pouring from the appliance almost hurt you, your overly sensitive eyes and skin picking up on the sensations more potently in the soft morning light of the room. 

Gar turned around, the carton still poised to his lips. He took large swigs that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and he kicked the fridge door shut behind him as he finally put the carton down on the counter, exhaling a large, nasty burp. He looked at you with a sleepy smile, almost making you mad with how cute he could be after doing something like that. 

You were about to comment on the disgusting nature of his habits when something strange happened - something that had never happened to you before. 

You locked eyes with him, and with absolutely no intention or purpose on your part, you were struck with a flood of his thoughts. A vision, a vivid painting brought to life by his imagination. 

It was a distinct, full picture of the two of you. 

He had you pressed against the kitchen island, his hands commanding and warm on your hips, like they belonged there. His body was firm against yours, tightly pressed against you as if trying to spite the clothes you wore - and his lips were on yours in a demanding kiss. It was entirely passionate, downright hungry. He left gentle nips on your bottom lip as you ran your hands through his sleep mussed hair, your gentle tug on it forcing a moan from his throat, his tongue pressing into- 

A gentle gasp coiled in the back of your throat as you were shocked back to reality, finally able to force yourself out of his mind. 

You had no idea how the accidental violation had even occurred in the first place, but to stay there and indulge in it would only be continuing to do him a great injustice. When you dared to let your eyes flicker back to his face, he was staring at you with a strange look - his brow slightly furrowed, worry dancing across his mouth. Clearly he wanted to ask you what was wrong. You hadn’t greeted him or said ‘good morning’ in any sort of fashion yet, and now you were just sitting there, frozen on your stool, every inch of your body tight as ice at what you had just seen. 

“Did you want some?” He asked, picking up the orange juice carton and holding it out to you. 

It was adorably ignorant of him - to think the strange look that had struck your face was over some dispute about orange juice. That you were annoyed because he wasn’t sharing well enough. You simply shook your head in the negative and began gathering your things as quickly as possible, trapping your pencil between the pages of your notebook as you scrambled to get out of his sight. 

You needed time to think. 

You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you sure wanted to avoid him until you could figure it out. Until you could get it under control. You raised your hand and signed something about showering to him. But your movements were quick and sloppy and you didn’t look at him for confirmation that he understood before you barreled out of the room. You were too eager to hide in your bedroom until you were absolutely forced to see him again. 

… 

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before. 

You had thought about it a lot, actually. 

But he had been far too good a friend for you to ever risk losing that friendship over your stupid lust - over some stupid schoolgirl crush that you were sure would go away. And the whole uprooting your life and having a demon from another dimension invade your mind and show you the darkest parts of yourself thing definitely made you put your crush for Gar on the back burner. 

It’s not like you were blind to how entirely perfect Gar was. He was handsome, he was cute - so entirely adorable in his boyish looks and his sweet smile. So cute and excitable, with the way he could be bashful, yet confident at the same time when spurting out random facts about video games or going on and on about seemingly any subject that excited him. And you quickly realized that he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless - accidentally caught him changing when living together at Caulder House - and you saw his gorgeous physique on display. 

You had been smitten with Gar since the very first moment you had met him, actually.

Back then your crush was something that should have been glaringly obvious to him. You could barely maintain eye contact with him within the first few days of knowing him, you were always so flustered around him. That, on top of the playful teasing of your housemates, wondering when the two of you were finally going to admit that unspoken thing you had going on. 

But when the two of you left Caulder House and set out to explore the world - it had remained unspoken. 

If Gar had known about your crush on him, it had never affected the way he treated you. Your friendship grew so strong so quickly, and you never wanted to lose that. You never wanted to lose him. So you settled for platonic couch cuddles and late night multiplayer and him letting you sleep in his bed whenever you got a bad migraine. 

And then Rachel came along. And you saw the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. And even though you thought you had probably lost any chance of ever being with him the way you had dreamed of - you still packed your bag and squeezed into the back of Dick’s Porsche with him when he begged for you to come. 

Naturally, you were spinning at the revelation that apparently, he had thought of you the same way you thought of him. You almost wanted to convince yourself that it had been a mistake. That it had just been a fantasy you had cooked up inside your own mind. It’s not like you didn’t have many, many fantasies about Gar running around in there. 

But no. You knew distinctly what it felt like to use your powers. Being inside the private cave of someone else’s mind - even touching the surface of its depths is a unique experience. And doing it by mistake feels no different than doing it on purpose. 

You had no clue what had caused your powers to go off by mistake, but you definitely knew the feeling of using them. 

Those were most definitely Gar’s thoughts that had invaded your mind. Gar’s thoughts about kissing you, handling you with such intense passion. Your skin startled to crawl with a unique heat as you remembered the vision so vividly. You heaved a great sigh as you flung yourself backward onto your bed. You gazed over at the clock. It was almost time for training. You wouldn’t be able to hide from Gar for much longer. 

…  

You were just glad that training that day consisted of blindfolded sparring. 

Dick seemed very surprised when you volunteered to go first after he introduced the unorthodox exercise. But to you, it was a simple logic that had you eagerly chopping at the bit to get a piece of cloth covering your eyes. If you were blindfolded, there was no chance of you catching Gar’s eye. Or anyone’s for that matter. 

You had no idea if your powers were simply spinning out of control, or if it was an unintentional emotional reaction triggered by Gar’s presence. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. If it was a case of your powers going rogue, growing stronger somehow, then perhaps you’d have to start wearing a blindfold all the time. 

If it was specifically something with Gar, then… maybe that was worse. It probably signaled something deeper with you. Your feelings for him clawing at your unconscious, begging to be spilled to the open air. Which you really weren’t eager to let happen anytime soon. 

You were almost relieved when Dick paired you off with Jason, saying that your skill set ‘complimented’ his. He explained that he wanted the two of you to try the blindfolding exercise together while he quizzed Gar and Rachel on logic puzzles in the other room. At least Gar would be required to be away from you for a while, and you’d have a very slim chance of catching Jason’s eyes. You didn’t want to know what kind of things he was thinking, what secrets he had. Definitely not. 

As the two of you sparred, you were entirely unfocused, your thoughts swimming. 

Jason caught you off guard, and easily swept you off your feet completely as he struck you hard in the ankle with the wooden practice sword he was wielding. You grunted gently as you hit the floor, and rolled over on your back, defeated. You reluctantly removed the blindfold as you caught your breath, and saw him standing above you, offering you a hand to help you up. As you blinked against the sharp light meeting your eyes, you accidentally caught his gaze, making direct, certain eye contact with him.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You breathed a small sigh of relief. 

“You okay, Fancy Hands?” He asked, leaning down so his helping hand was closer to you. 

It was a nickname he had affectionately given you the first time he’d seen you use ASL when you had met - back at the safe house in Chicago. Back when Jason had used Dick’s tracker to find him and you all met the surprise second Robin for the first time. 

At the time, you had been surprised to find out that Jason actually knew quite a few signs because one of the kids he’d been in foster care with had been deaf. You had explained to him that your hearing was perfectly fine - your mutism was because of a surgery during your childhood that had removed a tumor from your throat and had left your vocal cords damaged. It was something that had occurred long before your life had become about powers, a green tiger, and one too many Robins to count. 

In the present, you were simply thankful that your powers didn’t seem to act up with him. 

In response to his question, you nodded, taking his hand. 

He helped you to your feet quickly, and you found your own practice sword where it had fallen. You then replaced your blindfold once again. Though it was slightly troubling to know that this sudden shift in your powers only seemed to be triggered by Gar - that knowledge did help you focus a bit more on the lesson. 

As you focused, you blocked two of Jason’s hits with your sword and landed a swift, sharp hit somewhere on him. 

“Ow!” He whined. “Take it easy, Fancy Hands, this is only supposed to be practice.” 

You giggled, smiling to yourself. 

… 

It had been a few days since then. 

And you had been strategically avoiding Gar. 

At least, avoiding him as much as you could without arousing major suspicion. It was a pretty large living space, and with only four other people in it, it was next to impossible to come up with excuses to avoid him entirely. He was your best friend, after all. If you just quit spending time with him entirely, that would cause him to ask way too many questions. And you definitely couldn’t give him the answers to any of those questions. 

You had made a hard agreement shortly after you had met him - you promised that you would never use your powers on him without his explicit permission unless it was some kind of emergency. A life or death situation. You both easily agree that his brain was his brain, and like every other person on the planet, it was his private sanctuary. He was entitled to that privacy. He deserved that much. Everyone did. That’s why you always tried to avoid using your powers at all costs. 

You didn’t want to explain to him that you had accidentally broken your promise - that you had seen some of his most private thoughts. On top of that, it was like a giant tease toward your feelings for him. Feelings you shouldn’t even have for your best friend. 

So in the meantime, while you were trying to figure out how to reign in your powers and stop from having another freak accident like the one in the kitchen, you stuck to what you considered ‘safe’ activities with Gar. Things the two of you could do together that would absolutely minimize eye contact between the two of you. 

Things like: studying Dick’s allotted mandatory reading material, where your eyes would be safely glued to the pages of a book. Playing video games with him, where your eyes would have to be on the screen. And you always made sure you sat next to him at the dinner table, where your eyes would be parallel to his, or stayed safely on your dinner plate. 

You had been doing just fine until another accident happened. 

Of course, it happened because of factors you hadn’t taken into account. 

You had been up late in the training room, something you did often. Because of your hesitance to use your powers, you liked to exercise often to be in peak physical condition in case fighting was ever necessary on your behalf. 

On top of that, you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going. You had kicked his ass quite a few times during training sessions, and though he would never say it, he liked how you kept him on his toes. So now you were always trying to quietly outdo the other. Something you were caught up in thinking about as you floated down the hallway toward the bathroom on light feet, your toiletry bag in hand, hoping Jason hadn’t beaten you to the shower. 

What you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar. With neither of you paying attention to where you were going, you smacked into each other at a fair speed, him waltzing out of the bathroom and straight into you. Your toiletry bag went flying, and with the zipper undone, your products scattered out across the floor. 

“Shit, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Gar quickly apologized, being the entirely sweet person that he was. 

You both leaned down in unison and began picking up the mess of bottles and other products. You forced yourself to keep your eyes steadily on the floor, not daring to look toward his face, no matter how much you missed his sweet smile and those big brown eyes looking back at you. You couldn’t risk it, not if you would make that unintentional invasion of his privacy once again. 

Gar’s chest twinged with sour notes as you avoided his gaze. Usually, you were always so pleased to be around him. He thought that he had done something wrong. Something grander that he had somehow failed to perceive. 

“I guess I better watch where I’m going, huh?” He chuckled, trying to make conversation with you. 

Truthfully, he just wanted a reaction out of you - he needed to see your smile like wilting plants needed rain. He worried that he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon. 

You kept your eyes glued to the floor, making it an exercise in self-discipline. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his dripping wet leg and the edge of the fluffy, white towel he was wearing. You knew he was shirtless and it was far too tempting to look. 

When your hand went for the bottle of conditioner at the same time as his - you accidentally brushed over each other. You felt a unique heat creeping up your spine. Like magnets, like a plant growing toward the sun - like any natural reaction that self discipline can’t be stopped - your eyes flickered up and met with his. 

And once again, you became trapped in the depths of his dangerous gaze. 

You were sucked into his mind before you could stop it. In a millisecond, all of your senses became consumed by another vision of his imagining. 

You were surprised to find that it was a scene of you, alone. 

It was a way you had never viewed yourself before; getting the chance to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, even if it was only imaginary, was quite a strange sensation. 

The scene was an outside perspective of yourself showering, as if someone was staring at you through the clear glass door. You had to admit that it was positively erotic. The way the bubbles cascaded down your skin, the way your hands rubbed your flesh as you washed yourself. The dream you stopped the smooth lathering partway to grab and grope at your thighs and breasts, moaning lightly under your breath as you did so. 

You had never thought you could be so… dreamy. 

You didn’t remain alone in the shower for long, though. 

As if out of nowhere, Gar appeared behind you, his naked body almost eclipsed by yours, save for his delightful broad shoulders and his head as it poked out around yours. You had never seen a more appealing sight in your life. His gorgeous face with wet hair stuck to his forehead, the grin that came across his cheeks as he looked at you. His arms came to wrap around your waist as he gently brushed a loofa across your stomach. He began kissing along your shoulder, licking his tongue across your neck and boldly moaning at the taste of your skin-

You forcefully pulled yourself from the vision. As you rocketed back to reality, it was like having ice water thrown down your back. 

The surrounding warmth of the imaginary shower was gone, and you were once again in the cool night air of the hallway. You gazed across Gar’s face, taking in the wide-eyed, clueless expression he wore. He almost looked worried for you, wondering why you had spaced out like that. He had absolutely no idea of what you had just seen. 

You snatched the bottle of conditioner out from underneath his palm and shoved it into your bag. Miraculously, you stood up on shaking legs, turning around and going to escape back to your room. 

“Didn’t you wanna use the shower?” Gar called after you quietly. 

Right. Your shower. 

You whipped back around, nodding at him in passing - but you kept your eyes locked on the floor as you sped by him. You practically ran into the bathroom before he could make any comments about your strange behavior. 

You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you, sealing yourself in the smothering heat and steam that he had left behind. When you glanced over at the mirror and saw that he had been drawing funny faces in the condensation - something that was so terribly Gar it almost hurt - you felt even worse about violating his privacy. Even if it was an accident. 

You tried to let the guilt go as you scrubbed away at your body. You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault. 

Eventually, you found yourself only reminded of his steamy fantasy as the bubbles ran across your skin. You had never felt sexier, never felt more attractive in your entire life than you did in his eyes, in his imagining of you completely naked. 

The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest. 

In his dream, you weren’t cartoonish or overdone by his lust. Even though he had never seen you naked before, your breasts weren’t ballooned out or perkier than they should have been. There wasn’t a great amount of fat trimmed from your body, as if he desired you to be thinner than you were. It was so gratefully you - but it was a hot, sexy, fantastic version of you. A version that he apparently wanted to have shower sex with. 

The very thought had you pulling down the extendable shower head and holding it between your legs, getting off to the way Gar thought of you. It was perfect - until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door, complaining that you had been taking too long, interrupted you. 

… 

Gar’s hands were all over you. 

It left you absolutely breathless, giving you no room to escape the pleasure he was delivering. He had turned you into a quivering, moaning mess. His mouth was between your legs, on your neck, on your breasts. His perfect lips were hot on your own, trying to trap the indescribable sounds you were making for him. You were completely pliant to him, to his needs, a melted puddle of want under his ever giving hands. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned into your ear, finally lining his cock up to your throbbing entrance, finally ready to give you what you needed most. “I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock.” 

His dirty words only fueled the every growing desire that was mounting inside you. You keened out pathetically as he finally pushed inside you. His cock ignited you with a sharp electricity, filling you up so perfectly. 

You were shocked out of your strangely wonderful dream by a pounding on your bedroom door - Dick coming to wake you up for training. 

“Morning jog in twenty minutes.” He called out through your door, making you groan into your pillow. 

There wouldn’t even be enough time to relieve the hard painful throbbing between your legs before you had to get out of bed. 

As much as you loved the man who had so graciously taken you in and now acted as such an amazing mentor to you - you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes. 

…  

Gar had been plaguing your dreams since you had discovered the kind of thoughts he had been having about you. Of course, he had been the subject of plenty of your daydreams - but this was so much stronger. He had invaded your subconscious and made a home for himself there. 

More intense than any fantasy you had ever cooked up yourself, every single time you closed your eyes - he was there. You could feel his lips on your skin, could feel his hands on you. It had become more difficult than usual to sleep, and when you did, you woke up with a light sheen of sweat covering you, your pussy soaked and throbbing, absolutely needy for him. 

You knew it would be wrong. It would absolutely be wrong if you acted on your feelings for Gar now, well-informed that he was attracted to you too. That he might want the same things as you. It was so undoubtedly wrong to take information you had discovered with your powers and use it for personal gain like this. 

But, on the other hand, you knew the only reason he was plaguing your mind so much - you had some hope that he felt the same way. That he returned your big, scary feelings. 

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? 

You couldn’t know for certain if he felt exactly the same way that you did. 

Yes, you had seen him imagining kissing you, imagining doing sexual things with you. You knew that he thought of you in an erotic way. But that only meant he wanted to fuck you. 

It certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to be seriously romantic with you or that he wanted a serious relationship. He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head - ones that you hadn’t seen. 

Nothing about what you had seen said he was in love with you. So if you told him about your feelings for him unprompted, not only would you make yourself look like an idiot, but you would eventually have to tell him about the things you had accidentally seen. He would never forgive you for violating his privacy, and you would be heartbroken. 

Sometimes you really wished you could just be normal. 

… 

“Well, this is fucking stupid.” Jason griped, throwing himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. 

“Yeah, we all know that, Jason.” Rachel quickly agreed. “But if Dick comes back and doesn’t see us having Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times, then he’ll make us run laps or balance plates on our heads again.” 

She proposed an easy argument in favor of shutting up and co-operating as she unpacked the many pieces of the board game that Dick had gotten you guys - Trivial Pursuit. Something ‘fun and educational’, he had explained. 

You laughed under your breath at Rachel’s comment. 

Dick wanted the four of you to spend more time ‘bonding as a team’. He had explained that one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together as well as training together. He wanted this new team to be as strong as the old one. 

You thought maybe this sporadic encouragement of bonding had been brought on by how you had been acting. With your dreams growing more intense each night, you had been increasingly turning down Gar’s invitations to play video games together, or study together. You had even started making up excuses to take dinner into your room or skipping dinner altogether in favor of eating bowls of cereal when no one else was around. And you knew Dick had noticed. 

But you also knew that you weren’t the only one to blame. 

The whole ‘team bonding’ thing could have easily been prompted by Jason’s increased agitation with the living situation, his eagerness to leave you all behind and get back to Gotham. And the fact that Rachel, like you, now rarely came out of her room. 

This always left Gar in a strange situation where he was desperate for friendship but everyone pulled away from him, everyone wanted to isolate themselves but him. You felt increasingly guilty about it. You felt so bad for abandoning your best friend. But every time you looked at him, even without making that dangerous eye contact, heat began to rise in your face as flashes of his fantasies or your wicked dreams began popping into your mind. 

But now you were all being forced to spend time together. You couldn’t avoid it so easily. You knew there was no excuse you could cook up to get out of it. And like Rachel had said, you didn’t want yourself and the others to be plagued with some dumb punishment like running laps if you could just be playing a board game instead. 

All four of you were sitting around the small coffee table in the living room area of the open concept space, the fire pit sending warm waves over you as the dark sky went on boundlessly through the tall windows. The lamp above your heads and the city lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a beautifully pleasant atmosphere that made it easy to ignore your problems. 

Dick was gone out on some ‘errands’, and made you all promise to play the game and spend some time together while he was gone. 

“I like board games.” Gar smiled, picking up one of the pieces and inspecting it. “Of course, I do prefer multiplayer online. But some old fashioned tabletop is good to throw in there every once and a while.” 

You smiled at Gar’s comment. He was so wonderfully nerdy. Undeniably one of the reasons you had developed feelings for him in the first place. 

You were seated beside him on the plush rug, crossed legged, your knee just barely brushing against his. It felt strangely normal to be like this, pretending like nothing odd had happened between you in the weeks past. You were enjoying the feeling, indulging in actually getting to hang out with your best friend without worrying about romantic feelings or any of the other bullshit. 

“Could you not be a total dork for like… five seconds?” Rachel quipped, raising an eyebrow at Gar. 

Gar threw the game piece at her, and it bounced off her chest before it disappeared somewhere on the floor, making her look for it. You laughed. 

“Ugh, this is so fucking stupid.” Jason groaned into a small throw pillow from the couch that he had pulled into his face. “I don’t want to play this dumb fucking game.” 

‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed. 

Seeing as Rachel didn’t know that much ASL, and Jason wasn’t even looking at you, his face still covered by the pillow in his little tantrum, Gar interpreted for you. 

“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose?” He announced to the room in a tone ripe with sass. 

Rachel smiled at the challenge, looking over her shoulder to see how Jason would react. 

“What? No.” Jason snapped, sitting up and tossing the pillow behind him. “It’s just a stupid game. I’m sure there are far better things I could be spending my time doing.” 

‘Then play.’ You signed, making steady eye contact with Jason, challenging him. 

“Then why don’t you just play?” Gar spoke, adding a few more words. Not that you minded. You thought it was generous and sweet that he had rushed to learn ASL in the first few months of knowing you just so he could communicate better with you. It was one of the things that had made you fall for him so hard, so fast. 

Jason’s face was struck with the realization that you were the one challenging him, not Gar. His eyes flickered between the three of you,  and then he settled into a seat on the carpet beside Rachel. 

“Okay fine, how do you even play this stupid game?” He grumbled quietly, snatching the instructions from Rachel. 

‘Why don’t we make things interesting?’ You said, knowing you could aggravate Jason’s competitive side even more. 

And in the back of your mind, you were thinking about the fact that if you were too focused on winning the game, you wouldn’t be too focused on Gar. You wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that he had shifted closer to you, and his thigh was pressing more into yours, spreading a deadly heat across your skin under your clothes.

“What, like a bet?” Gar responded to your words rather than translating them to everyone else, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

‘Yes, a bet.’ You quickly clarified. 

“Are you challengin’ me, Fancy Hands?” Jason posed. “You wanna lose even more disastrously to The One and Only Robin?” He added on, his words dripping with that usual air of cockiness. 

‘Second Robin.’ You reminded him.

Jason knew enough sign language to know these symbols. Especially the one you had specifically taught him for the bird with the same name as his caped alias. So even though Gar failed to translate these words for fear of starting a genuine fight, Jason responded to your feisty words.  

“The One and Only Robin, now that Dickhead Grayson is retired.” He proudly corrected you. 

‘Whatever.’ You shrugged it off. ‘We’ll see if any Robin can win the board game he calls so stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason chided. “What kind of bet did you have in mind?” 

‘Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.’ You explained. 

“Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.” Gar explained it to him. 

“Loser between the three of you.” Rachel corrected with a smirk. 

“Loser between the two of them. I’m just the messenger.” Gar quickly told her. 

“The winner gets the last Twinkie from my stash.” Jason added, upping the ante of the bet. 

Gar and Rachel’s eyes practically began glowing (especially considering what their powers made them capable of) at the mere mention of junk food. 

Dick had pretty much banned any food that was considered unhealthy. He said it wasn’t good for training. ‘Why put garbage in the tank? It doesn’t make the engine run properly’ he always nagged. 

The few times you and Rachel had been ‘caught’ coming back from a 7/11 with a bag full of goodies, he had made you read the labels out loud to ‘justify what you were putting inside your bodies’, and blah, blah, blah. So you liked eating sugar? Big deal. 

Eventually all his nagging just made you guys give up, or eat your doses of junk food outside the house (during the rare times he actually let you guys out). But of course, it just made Jason more determined to sneak things in. And of course, with his delinquent mindset, he had come up with a perfect system that involved wearing an overly large coat and keeping food in a false bottom drawer he had created in his room. He had started making you guys do him favors in exchange for snacks, but a lot of the time, it was worth it. 

“Ante up!” Rachel ordered. “Twinkie on the table!” She smacked her palm flat on the table, glaring Jason down until he rose from his seat to go retrieve the desired item. 

… 

You were enjoying game night far more than you thought you would. 

Everyone was, actually. Rousing laughter and chatter filled the room as you all took your turns, argued over the rules, and raced to see who would win. Your mind was distracted far from any sexual thoughts of Gar. You weren’t focused on the things you had accidentally seen when mistakenly crossing the threshold of his mind, or the heated dreams it had caused you to have. For the first time in weeks, a great worry had been lifted from your shoulders. 

Which was probably why it happened. You were probably a fool to think you were safe - to think this new power you had discovered couldn’t act up just because you were sitting around with your friends, innocently playing a board game. 

Gar turned to you, picking up one of the trivia cards to ask you your question as your turn came around. 

“Alright, science.” He announced. “How many bones are in the human body? Is it A: 206, B: 104, C: 198, or D: 236?” 

When he had finished reading it, his eyes flickered up from the card in his hand and met with yours. You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation. 

It was another third-person perspective of him and yourself, a portrait of perfect intimacy. 

In the wicked fantasy, he had you pinned against a wall, both of you completely naked - his sweet, bare flesh pinning your heated body against the surface. His breath mingled with yours as pressed kisses into your mouth, clearly torn between claiming your lips over and over again or the simple act of breathing. He wasn’t sure which was more precious - the taste of your mouth under his or the bits of air he needed to survive. 

He had one of your legs hitched up around his hip, your knee up around his back, giving the perfect view as he shoved his cock inside of you. He was so large - hot and heavy, splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation as your needy cunt dripped around him. He let out a grunt as the wet slide of your pussy enveloped him, loving the most tender touch of your warmth on his aching cock. 

The fat around your hip bloomed through his fingers as he held you steady, hammering his hips against yours. It created a wet smacking sound that sent electricity shooting through you, the fantasy so palpable that you could almost feel the thickness of his cock tearing you open - you could almost feel the heft of those mighty nine inches dragging against your deadly hot inner walls. 

You admired the glisten of sweat on his rippling back muscles, the hot grunts that poured from his swollen lips. You loved the sight of your nails digging into his skin as you gripped his shoulders, desperate to hold on. 

“You’re so good for me.” He murmured against your panting lips, his voice deep, absolutely thick with sex. “I love this pussy so fucking much.” 

“Y/N?” 

This time it took Gar’s voice echoing in your ears in the real world to pull you out of the vivid daydream. 

“You okay?” The pure sweetness of his tone, the quiet caring had you quaking almost as much as the heft of his daydream cock. 

Your pussy throbbed hard between your thighs and your face was burning hot. You could feel the beginnings of sweat glistening on your forehead, and you hoped that your physical reaction to what you had seen wasn’t too obvious in the dull lighting of the room. Perhaps you could blame it on sitting too close to the fireplace. 

You dared to let your eyes have a once-over of Gar’s face, hoping not to be pulled back into the stupor once again. He was looking at you with that familiar wide-eyed, positively clueless expression. He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall and he had absolutely no clue that you knew. 

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rachel scoffed. “It’s a pretty softball question.” 

Fuck, right. You were supposed to be playing trivia. 

You had genuinely no idea what the question had been, and wouldn’t dare ask Gar to repeat it for fear of giving yourself away, so you simply picked an answer out of the blue. 

‘C.’ You gestured the sign for the single letter, hoping it was correct if it was supposed to be such a ‘softball’ of a question. 

“Wrong.” Gar sighed, placing the card in the used pile. 

“I thought it was 207?” Jason wondered out loud, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh wait, that’s the joke answer.” 

“Ew.” Rachel cringed. “Don’t be gross.” 

“Hey,” Gar placed a gentle hand on your forearm where it was resting on the table, capturing your attention. “Are you okay? You really zoned out for a minute there.” 

Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it, because you knew you couldn’t tell him what you had truly seen. You couldn’t explain what was truly wrong with you. 

‘I’m fine.’ You assured him, pulling your hand naturally out of his warm grasp to communicate. You hoped he wouldn’t notice that you were pulling away from him to avoid the heat of his touch and refusing to look at his face. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, Gar.” Rachel smiled. 

You nodded. 

“Some people’s brains just get fried when they’re asked to be smart on the spot.” She added on - this being sass that was clearly directed at Jason. It made you laugh. 

It then moved on to someone else’s turn, and you were glad the focus had shifted away from you. 

…  

Just like everything you had touched lately, game night turned into a disaster. 

Jason realized he wasn’t going to win after he lost one too many pop culture questions. Ones based on movies and shows that he hadn’t even seen. And he claimed it ‘wasn’t even fair’ because he was being questioned based on material that he had no knowledge of. 

When Gar and Rachel told him that was just how the game worked, he proceeded to pull the ‘I was poor growing up, of course I didn’t watch those movies cause I didn’t have a TV’ card. When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table. A screaming match broke out between the three of them, and everyone stormed off to their separate corners, leaving you to clean up the pieces. Quite literally. 

You managed to find and pick up all the game pieces in the shaggy area rug, and you put them back inside the game box. You figured they might be useful in the future in case everyone made up and did want to play the game again sometime. One of the last things left on the carpet was the crushed Twinkie, which had been smashed by the weight of the coffee table when Jason flipped it over. 

It was still nicely inside its plastic packaging, but it had become a crumbled mixture of cake pieces and artificial frosting, rather than the golden log it once was. You shoved it in your pocket - it was definitely something Gar would still enjoy. Though your relationship with him was strange and strained lately, you would still give it to him. 

You put everything back in the living area exactly as it had been, not wanting to tip off Dick to what had happened. He already had enough reasons to be on Jason’s case, you didn’t want to give him one more. Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite, you thought it was basic decency to have his back. 

Just as you were finished tidying, Dick returned through the elevator, heaving several bags of groceries in both his arms. 

“How was game night?” He smiled at you as you came over to take a few of the bags from him. 

You smiled back, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up with your free hand. 

You knew he had picked up some basic signs in the time of knowing you, but he was nowhere near as fluent as Gar, or even Jason. So you stuck to simple ASL with him, or gave him exaggerated facial expressions. Or just wrote things down on paper or texted like you did with most other people. 

“Good.” His voice held an edge of relief to it. “The four of you should be spending more time together. It’s good for team morale.” 

You felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but you didn’t want to get the others in trouble for something that really wasn’t their fault. He couldn’t force you guys to enjoy spending time together if it wasn’t going to come naturally. 

You put away the groceries in relative silence. Once you had finished folding the reusable bags and putting them away, you were going to escape to your room when Dick caught your attention once again. 

“Um, one more thing.” He said, stopping you in your tracks, making you turn around to face him. You looked at him with curious eyes, and he continued speaking. “It’s probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Gar? You guys used to be like… best friends, and now you hardly ever spend time with him.” 

You felt a dizziness overtake you - that hard drop of your blood pressure from feeling so caught. 

It was like the days when you had first met Gar, when your feelings for him were so bold and unrestrained. And anytime someone mentioned his name around you, you practically melted into a puddle. 

In response to Dick, you simply shrugged. You knew that you looked entirely guilty as your eyes darted around the room - to the counter, the floor, the dull embers in the fire pit - anywhere but at him. 

“Listen, I know this life can be pretty isolating. Especially when you have unique powers. Which is not something I know personally. But I have seen you struggle with it - with using your powers, holding back that unique ability you have when you should be using it and living up to your potential. And I’ve seen Gar help you through it in ways that no one else could.” 

Dick’s words, coming from such a steady and authoritative voice did shock you. You were surprised that he considered your powers to be a ‘unique potential’ - rather than the dangerous, privacy invasion tool that you always saw it as. You were even more surprised to hear that he had observed the ways Gar had helped you when you struggled with the decision to hold back or not, the moral confliction of it all. 

“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can rely on. Someone who knows what it’s like. You just… you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever.” 

His words were solid concrete in the otherwise quiet room, weighing down your already heavy heart. 

Even though he had no idea why you had been pushing Gar away, strangely… he was right. You finally looked up to find your mentor’s cold steel gaze staring you down. 

‘Thank you.’ You mouthed the words along with the sign, just in case he didn’t know what it meant. 

He nodded at you, silently releasing you from the conversation. You mindlessly put your hands into the pockets of your sweater as you walked away, and you felt the gentle crinkle of the Twinkie’s wrapper. You decided that you should go visit Gar before you went to bed. 

When you approached his bedroom door, you were surprised to see that it was open. You peered inside, peeking your head around the corner, and you found Gar sprawled out on his bed. His laptop was on his stomach as he stared at the white-blue glow with a bored expression on his face. He was likely studying. Trying this best to. 

You knocked on the open door to make your presence known. He jumped slightly as you broke his concentration, but he quickly recovered from being startled. He sat up fully and put his laptop to the side, the screen still open and casting a glow into the dimly lit room. You didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, and his gaze was drawn to you as you walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you. 

“Y/N. Hey,” He smiled at you, pleasantly surprised that you had come to see him. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

A small twinge of guilt flared in your stomach. 

You felt bad for avoiding him for reasons that weren’t truly his fault. You felt bad for putting a strain on your friendship with him because you couldn’t control your stupid powers. You felt bad that you couldn’t just tell him the truth. 

And a huge part of you felt even worse that you couldn’t control your own lust simply because you knew that he felt somewhat lustful toward you. 

As your eyes glanced at his wide thighs spread out on the bed, even covered by his jeans, your pussy ached. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way those thighs had worked as he thrust his cock in and out of you when he had you pinned to the wall in that fantasy. You hated how your mind was so hyper-focused on something that wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just hotter and more wicked because you knew it was a fantasy of his creation. It drove you more insane because it was something he apparently wanted just as badly as you did. 

Even if you could never tell him you wanted it as badly as he did because of the way you had found out. 

‘I thought you might want this.’ You signed to him. 

Past the hazy fog of your lust clouded thoughts, you remembered why you had come to see Gar in the first place. You took the smashed, pathetic Twinkie out of your pocket and presented it to him with a small grin. 

“Oh thanks!” He was eager to take it from you, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite of the crumbling cake. 

“Yeah, definitely still good.” He assured you with his mouthful, giving you a cheeky smile and a thumbs up. 

You were happy that you had finally done something right. You gave him a small thumbs up in return and went to leave again. But he was quick, abandoning his snack on the bed and jumping up to interrupt your path before you could escape. 

“Y/N, wait. I was hoping we could talk.” He said quietly, his voice full of a strained hope. “I miss you.” 

Even as he pleaded for your attention, your eyes were stuck at your feet. Rather than daring to look up at him, you stared hard at the space where his green socked toes stood in front of yours. You had no clue what exactly was triggering these ‘episodes’ with your powers, but you knew it had something to do with him. You couldn’t risk it, not again. 

You loved how almost all of his clothes were green - a choice he often made because he said it was easier to match his hair the way it now naturally grew from his head. The color would forever remind you of him whenever it came up in life. He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it. So that anything green would make you mourn for him long after he had left your life in one way or another. You hated it and loved it at the same time. 

“If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain. 

It was intensely difficult for you to listen to. 

It sliced through you like a knife. 

Your selfish acts, your uncontrollable, stupid powers and the way you ran from the consequences had somehow convinced him that he had done something wrong. 

Tears pricked your eyes. 

You racked your gaze carefully up his body, and your eyes landed on a piece of vanilla cake crumb that had gotten stuck to his chin from the Twinkie. Just the look of it, something that was so foolish and unserious and so Gar in this very serious moment made you crack a smile. Instinctually, you reached over and brushed it away with your thumb. 

He sighed out a half-breath that could be perceived as a laugh when he realized what you were smiling at. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought of his own clumsiness. 

‘You have done nothing wrong.’ You assured him, keeping your eyes locked on the wall behind his ear. ‘You never do anything wrong. You’re so good.’ 

“Then what is it?” He pressed. “Will you please just look at me?” 

He used a gentle hand on your chin to force your eyes towards his, and before you could stop it, you were caught up in it again. You were once again sucked into the complicated swell of his beautiful mind. 

But this time it was distinctly different. This time it wasn’t some heated fantasy, wasn’t some painted imagining. 

This was a memory of something that had already happened. It was most definitely a memory you knew well. Although this time it was like you were watching it from the outside - or rather, you were watching it from Gar’s perspective. 

It was a vision of you knelt on the bathroom floor, puking into a toilet. The sounds of your own sickness easily made you cringe. Gar didn’t flinch or feel any disgust though. 

You could feel his emotions like the grooves of a record, carved into the memory and being replayed. All he felt was a great wave of sadness for you. Instinctually, not really knowing what else to do, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your back as your muscles lurched with another wave of gags, forced by your body’s ill-made systems. 

It was a specific night that you remembered well. 

You had only been in Doctor Caulder’s care for a few weeks at the time, but it had become evident that even though the serum had cured your blindness, your intense migraines and even the occasional seizures caused by your brain tumor still persisted. 

You had crawled to the bathroom with the intention of dealing with your ailments in privacy. But Gar’s room was right next to yours, and he had heard you groaning in pain, had heard you throwing up and gasping for breath because of the pure force of the vomit. 

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He got a glass of water for you to rinse your mouth when you were done, and then he simply sat with you, trying to bring you some comfort in your time of need. He felt hollow and useless as you heaved into the toilet, nothing left in your stomach to give up but bright green stomach bile, your body forcing every last bit of it out as the migraine raged on. 

When the heaving stopped, he pulled you into his lap. He was ready with a warm, damp cloth to put on your forehead, and a towel to wipe your mouth. You relaxed into his calming touch. He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe, even if he couldn’t heal you from what ailed you. 

‘You can leave.’ You signed to him. 

At the time, he understood it well, even with just a few weeks of studying under his belt. 

A small wave of offense went through him. He didn’t want to leave you. Why would he leave you in such a weak state? He wanted to help you. That’s why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place. 

“I’m not gonna leave.” He told you. “I won’t leave you. Ever.” 

At the time you had been far too sick to really take in the weight of his words. But now, lingering in the memory, you could feel the determination sitting deep in his chest. The affection for you as it swelled inside him, the way he held you just a bit closer. 

You were shocked back to the cold concrete of reality when he gripped your arm in the present, pulling you out of the sweetness of the memory by force. He spoke something that was muffled and full in your ears as you struggled to pull yourself out of the thickness of his clouded mind. The expression on your face must have told him you hadn’t heard him, because he repeated himself. 

“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He demanded, his voice sharp with worry. 

‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You lied, shaking yourself from his grip. ‘I have to go study.’ 

You ran from the room before he could confront you any further. 

Your mind was positively drowning with thoughts about Gar. Did he feel the same way about you? Had he felt the same way about you since the two of you had met? 

Your mind was so clouded that you slammed into your closed bedroom door before you could remember to actually turn the doorknob and open it. It left you cursing internally as you rubbed the sore spot blooming in the middle of your forehead. 

This crush was going to ruin you. 

… 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t easily avoid Gar forever. 

The next day, when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar for sparring practice right before he pulled aside Jason and Rachel for a quiz on the assigned reading material. You tried to wave him down, wanting to protest about having Gar as a partner - but of course, he didn’t read ASL. And he didn’t give you any room to protest as he spouted off about what kind of drills the two of you should be practicing and told you that he would come by in two hours to ‘check-in’ on your progress. 

You wanted to scream. Sometimes, not having a voice truly, utterly sucked. 

You thought perhaps it was Dick’s way of forcing you to make good on the advice he had given you the night before - forcing you to spend time with Gar so that you would stop pushing him away. But it was so damn inconvenient when you still didn’t know what was causing your powers to act up. 

As you walked to the training room, you told yourself again and again that you could bear two hours alone with Gar. Especially because one of the drills that Dick wanted you to practice was blindfolded sparring. That was an easy way not to have your powers flare-up against your will. You told yourself that you needed to get back to normal. You couldn’t have Gar thinking that you hated him - thinking that he was the reason for your strange behavior when he was truly the best, kindest person in your life. 

Well, technically he was the reason for your strange behavior. But not at all in the way he blamed himself for. And you wouldn’t have him thinking that he had fucked up your friendship somehow or pissed you off unintentionally for some reason he couldn’t even name. 

You and Gar exchanged a few words - you agreed that you would wear the blindfold and try to defend against his attacks, and he joked that he would ‘go easy’ on you. It felt delightfully normal between the two of you for a few minutes. 

He gave you one of his perfectly dorky smiles and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Beyond his wildly attractive body, beyond that sexual heat - you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. Those boyish charms, that gentle nature that made him so irresistible as a friend and so easy to yearn for as a lover. 

When you put the blindfold on, it felt like a comforting shield against his wild daydreams, trying to buck free from his mind. You both picked up the wooden swords, and when he asked if you were ready, you nodded. 

Unfortunately, you were not exactly on your game. 

Usually, you were quite a skilled fighter. You could keep up with the likes of Jason Todd, who trained night and day just to prove how skilled he was. Your powers gave you slightly honed senses, giving you the ability to hear more acutely, giving you the advantage in a situation like this. 

But that was part of the problem. You were picking up on Gar’s breathing, the heavy panting coming from his lips as he swung the practice sword and started to work up a sweat. Your concentration was clouded by the small grunts he made as he worked his muscles, and the careful, skilled movement of his footfalls as he charged at you. 

He easily landed a few blows - gentle, purposefully light swats - on your arms and torso, and he distinctly noticed you not making any real effort to dodge or fight back. Your mind was too busy churning with the mental image of him sweaty from the effort, imagining those same grunts as he fucked you. 

This crush was going to ruin you. 

Gar stopped his movements, and you relaxed your body, pausing any half-efforts you were making to fight him off. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Do you have a migraine or something? Do you need to go lay down?” 

Of course. He was concerned for your well-being. It was something that only made him sweeter, and only made you twinge with guilt at what had been going through your mind. 

‘Fine.’ You responded, performing the sign with one hand, still clutching the practice sword with the other. ‘Keep going.’ 

You heard Gar sigh - clearly somewhat hesitant. 

But then he swung his sword down again, and when you heard it whipping through the air, you made a distinct effort to block it this time. You raised yours up, blocking the blow. He let out a quiet chuckle, pleased now that you were better focused this time around. 

You really tried harder. 

You found yourself blocking his blows, using your own swift footwork, and even then - your unconscious distraction was apparent. 

Usually you were better with your tactile awareness, but as the edge of the mats came under your foot, you didn’t notice. And Gar, ever concerned for your safety, used his non-sword hand to reach out and grab your arm. He quickly yanked you back from the edge in case you tripped and fell. He wouldn’t want you to hit your head on the concrete floor, even if it wouldn’t be a terribly grievous injury. 

But he was pumping with energy from the mock fight, and when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to. It wasn’t a simple correction of your footing like he intended. He accidentally sent your distracted legs tripping over each other and sent you barreling right into him. With the momentum, you knocked him completely off his legs. You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back. 

Gar broke into a gentle laughter, finding the entire thing to be quite amusing. 

His hands naturally found your hips and warmth spread out from there, something that quickly overwhelmed your senses. You dropped your practice sword with a numb hand as you became entirely heated by the feeling of his rock hard body beneath yours. Upon instinct, you reached up, and pulled the blindfold up to rest on your forehead - which turned out to be a terrible mistake. 

In that moment, you came face to face with Gar’s stunning, big brown eyes and you were once again sucked into one of his heated fantasies against your will. 

Unlike the others, this wasn’t a picture you were viewing. It wasn’t something in his mind that you were only seeing from the third perspective. 

No - you were in this. 

Somehow, he had drawn you so deeply into his fantasy this time that you were in it, participating in it, truly feeling it. 

In the daydream, you were sitting on top of him, easily paralleling your current reality.

But in this dreamy version, he was completely naked, and you felt the delightfully throbbing hum of his cock deep inside of you. Because it was just a dream, it wasn’t nearly as distinct as the real thing would have been. But the feeling quickly spread heat through your entire body. Especially when paired with the visuals his imagination had conjured up for you. 

The feeling of his hands on your hips in the real world easily turned into a searing burn that you were sure you could feel on your bare skin. You looked down at him below you, as though you were really straddling his naked body, proudly riding his impressively large cock. His taut muscles rippled under sweaty skin - his abs flexing with the effort, his biceps bulging as he held onto you. 

All of it so enticingly topped off by the sight of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat, stray green hairs stuck to it. The expression he held was almost beautifully pathetic as he struggled with such overwhelming pleasure - his lip snagged between his teeth, his brow heavily creased. Quiet, desperate whimpers escaping from his throat as he guided you to grind on his thickness. 

You let out a sharp moan of your own, desperately aching for breath, and that chugging in your throat was the thing that sucked out of the deep fog of this fantasy. 

When you looked into Gar’s eyes once more, you saw the look of dawning on his face. It was mingled with confusion, but you knew that this time, he had felt it too. He had felt you on a deeper level, and he knew, even if he couldn’t nearly explain it - the two of you had shared that experience on a deeper level. 

And what’s more - out here in the real world, not in some sense of fantasy, you could feel his hardness throbbing against your leg. And it felt just as large and impressive as it was in all those dreams. You knew that your cunt was likely boiling hot against him, giving you away. And though the temptation to lean down and ensnare his mouth was so intense, the temptation to beg him to fuck you right then and there - something inside of you kept chanting:

‘Don’t ruin your friendship. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck it up.’ 

And somehow, miraculously, fighting against all of your overpowering lust - you listened to that voice. You rushed to get off of him, scrambling off the floor to a standing position on shaking legs. You tried your best to ignore the entirely painful throbbing between your legs as your pussy screamed out for him, for his touch. 

Naturally, Gar thought that he had freaked you out. He thought that the reason you had jumped away from him so fast was because he had a raging hard-on and you were intensely disgusted by it. In his mind, he couldn’t easily see it being the exact opposite reason. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My body - my body just - reacted-” 

Gar also rose to his feet, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his loose workout pants to try and disguise it. You made the mistake of glancing at the tent and visually confirmed that it was just as large as he made it out to be in all of his fantasies (and yours). 

‘It’s fine.’ You sighed to him. 

You were once again making steady eye contact with the floor - trying not to get drawn back into his mind. But it only made Gar feel more awkward, more like he had wronged you. 

Gar’s throat immediately numbed when you turned and left to charge out of the room. You were intensely surprised when you felt his hand on your arm once more - that firm, commanding touch pulling you back once again. 

Wrestling with the embarrassment inside of him was a storm of anger. 

The fact that even now, you were so unwilling to talk to him about any of the problems in your friendship. You just kept brushing him off. It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him that he just couldn’t swallow down. So with the hand that he wasn’t using to hide his boner, he kept that grip on your arm. He forced you to stay, forcing you to turn back and face him. 

Him asserting himself like that, the show of force over you - oddly enough, it only added to the arousal boiling inside of you. A small whimper escaped from your lips, and you resisted the urge to smack a hand over your mouth in some attempt to hide it. You knew that Gar had definitely heard it when his face shifted from that tense anger to a look of sheer guilt. He thought that the grip on your arm had somehow hurt you. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, quickly dropping the grip on your arm. He was glad when you stayed of your own volition this time. “But, can you just talk to me? Please?” 

You hated to ignore his pleas, your own guilt curling in your stomach. 

After a moment with no response from you, more anger splashed up inside of him. 

“I hate this.” 

He said quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his pain. 

“I hate how we aren’t close anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t spend time together anymore. I feel like I barely even know you…” 

He quickly gained momentum in his ranting, his words picking up from a dull whisper. You crossed your arms, keeping your eyes on the floor. You knew that you were the perfect target for all of his upset - so you simply took it. 

“This place is changing everyone!” He barked, motioning around wildly to the walls. “I’m living with my best friends and I’ve never felt so damn alone!” 

As his words echoed in the open space, he looked at you with intensely sad eyes, obviously waiting for you to say something - waiting for an apology. 

But any explanation you could give would mean admitting that your powers had gone haywire. It would mean telling him that you had been invading his privacy without permission. It was bound to screw up your friendship and leave him feeling just as alone. You clasped your fists tight, staying entirely still while he waited for an answer. 

“Fine then.” He said quietly, absolutely defeated. 

He was the one to charge away this time, harshly smacking his shoulder against yours in anger. He kicked down a rack of weapons on his way out. 

You hear him let out a harsh, exasperated ‘fuck!’ when he got halfway down the hall. 

At that point, you couldn’t help the tears that escaped as the pain surged through your chest. 

Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way.

...

Keep Reading Here: Part Two - Our Past, Our Present, Our Future