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writing-with-olive · 3 years

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How to write essays fast

I've been writing a lot of papers, so that's what's on my mind.

So this mostly applies to your standard 5-paragraph paper, though it's fairly straightforward to adapt it to longer (or sometimes shorter) assignments.

One of the main things to note is that essays are VERY formulaic, so knowing the formula and being able to write down your ideas in a way that fit into the formula is probably the number one way to get stuff done fast. Because of that, most of what I’m covering is breaking down the formulas so they’re more accessable.

Also this got very long. If there’s anything you want me to expand on just let me know in the comments or send me an ask/DM and I’ll make another post that goes more in-depth about it.

Structure (I hate this step, so I’ve figured out how to do it very fast becuase it’s still important)

The first thing to consider is prewriting and structure. To start, there are two major paper structures I usually consider. The first goes

Introduction

Main point #1

Main point #2

Main point #3

Conclusion

This is good if you have a lot to say on the topic, or if it's something closer to a summary essay where there's not really an opposing side. In something where there are distinct sides, (or if you have less to say to support your own side), you may want something that looks like

Introduction

Main point #1

Main point #2

Why the other side is wrong

Conclusion

The "why the other side is wrong" side is involves thinking through the MOST credible arguments the other side might make, and methodically breaking them down to show how they don't work. The stronger the argument you choose, the more effective this is.

Since I personally hate prewriting with a passion, I usually do this step very fast and end up with an outline that looks like

Intro [insert thesis statement]

P1: [three word summary]

P2: [three word summary]

P3: [three word summary]

Conclusion

(thesis statement, introduction, body paragraphs, and conclusion tips are all below the cut)

Usually, this is enough so when I look at my outline, I can see what I'm trying to focus on for each paragraph - and do so without straying from my main point.

For the prewriting, the main things to do are identify with basic structure of the two will serve your purposes better, and write a thesis statement that solidly supports your argument.

Thesis Statement

There are so many guides about creating thesis statements that are powerful, but I'm just going to quickly go over how to be fast about it.

The first thing to know is that a thesis statement is usually a complex sentence: it's your entire essay distilled down to a single line. The general formula I follow goes something like this:

"In their [media type] [name of specific piece], [creator's full name] explored/demonstrated/other verb [theme you're going to be arguing about] demonstrated/using/as evidenced/as shown by [example 1], [example 2], and [optional example 3]."

For example, a thesis statement that follows this format might go

“In his short film Job at Place, David Davidson explored the manifestations of human stupidity through the absurdity of the main character’s home, school, and office.”

Or, if you're writing a historical piece, it might look something like this:

"In [place/time period], [thing you're arguing was happening]: they had to/the conditions were such that/other thing to set up a list [example 1], [example 2], and [example 3]."

For example, a thesis statement that follows this format might go

“During the Tusken Invasion of 32nd century Tatooine, it was the lives of the children that were most affected, from their social development and connections with others to more personal struggles they didn’t yet have the tools to overcome.”

The examples you give are going to correlate to your paragraphs - example 1 is for body paragraph 1, and so on.

Introduction

I like to think of the introduction as a funnel that gets more and more specific.

First, write a broad statement that touches on whatever theme you’re referencing.

Job at Place is about human stupidity, so something like “while great minds have flourished throughout the ages, so have the not-so-great.”

Tatooine is about war, and about child development, so something like “children’s development has always been impacted by the state of the world around them.” or “war has many effects, many of which impact those not directly involved with the conflict.”

The idea is that it’s a broad statement that can almost be looked at like a universal truth.

Next, you’re going to go deeper - two sentences that narrow down the time and place you’re talking about specifically, and how that time and place fit into your universal statement.

The fourth sentence gets even more specific - introducing how the thesis sentence fits into your first three sentences.

Then the last line is your thesis statements.

Body Paragraphs

Your three main body paragraphs all follow the same formula. (I’ll get to the “why the other side is wrong” paragraph in a minute)

The first sentence you’re going to want is a topic sentence. For this, you’re going to want to look at the example you gave in your thesis statement that corresponds to this paragraph, and see how it relates to your central claim.

If we’re going with the Job at Place example from above, for the second paragraph, you might open with a line like:

“A striking characteristic of Davidson’s short film was the abnormality of the main character’s school, used to showcase exactly what happens when poor decisions get taken too far.”

Everything within the paragraph will then back up the claim you’re making in the topic sentence (which in turn is backing up your thesis).

For each paragraph, you’re probably going to want about three pieces of evidence, either in the form of direct quotes (plucking words directly from the source) or paraphrased quotes (summarizing what happened in your own words). The quote should be used to directly support your argument.

After each piece of evidence, you’re going to want about... twoish lines of analysis (this number can change as you need it to, but two lines is something solid to fall back to).

While analysis can take all kinds of forms, one pattern you can use if you’re stuck is

evidence sentence

what it means

how that meaning ties back into your main point

Following this pattern, a piece of analysis of Job at Place might look like:

“One of the first images of the private school is that it’s a tall spire with creaking stairs and loose floorboards. Despite this, the principal has eight personal cars parked outside on full display. While the first glimpse of the school might indicate that there is little money to care for the structural integrity, the notion is directly negated by the principal’s actions. By using these two images, Davidson demonstrates what can happen to the youth when those in power let greed carry them away.”

After you write your analysis, include some kind of transition phrase, and go onto the next piece of evidence.

The last line of your paragraph is going to transition into the next paragraph while also summing up the main point of what you talked about in the current one. (This line can also get moved down and tacked onto the beginning of the next paragraph, before the topic sentence, but I have found it tends to look less cohesive that way).

You might choose something like:

“While the school was a disaster in its own right, it wasn’t the only example of human folly.”

If you’re writing a “this is why the other side is wrong” you’re going to want to think about the MOST compelling arguments the other side could make. Take the top one (or two), and figure out ways to crack them apart using evidence from your source material.

In this case, your topic sentence might start off with something like

“While opponents might say [insert compelling counterargument], their reasoning breaks down when one takes into account the evidence.”

At this point, you’re going to follow the same formula as above. The main thing to keep in mind is that for the duration of this paragraph, your point is that the other side’s claim of X is wrong.

Conclusion!

If you know what you’re doing, this is actually the easiest part.

(wait, what??????)

The thing is, you NEVER want to introduce new ideas into your conclusion. Instead, you’re summarizing your main points.

The formula I follow per sentence is:

Thesis statement but reworded (you can change the sentence structure too)

Topic sentence for paragraph 2 or 3, but reworded (I’ll explain why you shouldn’t do the sentence for P1 in just a sec)

Topic sentence for paragraph 1 or 3 but reworded

Topic sentence for paragraph 1 or 2 but reworded

Wow sentence or question (i’ll get to this too)

The idea for the middle three sentences is you don’t want them to read as repetitive, so you’re going to mix up the order so it doesn’t match the order of the rest of the essay. This will help to keep it fresh.

The wow sentence is basically the last impression you get to make. I find it’s usually a good idea to go just a tad dramatic (it sounds dumb, but it has never failed me). If I can’t think of anything, a declarative statement on whatever major theme was being discussed throughout the essay usually does the trick.

Examples:

All of this shows that in the absence of friendships and platonic love, humanity will falter.

Fiction may seem far fetched now, but if the world falls into those same mistakes, it’s only a matter of time until it becomes a reality.

Art has existed for as long as humans have populated the earth; it’s not going away any time soon.

A lesson everyone must understand is the most powerful weapon isn’t anything physical or tangeable: it’s the ideas that exist in the minds of those who care.

(I told you they were going to be dramatic) A way I look at it is if you can’t imagine dropping the mic on the last line, it needs to be stronger (yes I found that plagiarized with not even a whisper of credit on Pinterest, but it works).

If you wrote a SOLID essay, consider ending with a question aimed at the reader (this will push your essay in the direction of either the positive or negative extreme: a strong essay will become stronger, a weak essay will become weaker). Questions can be a call to action or rhetorical as a means to drive home your final point. Becuase they’re more nuanced to the content of the essay, I don’t really have great examples to give you though (sorry).

Hopefully this is useful to at least some of you - good luck!

++++

Tagging:@candlemouse

If you want to be added to or removed from any of my taglists (found pinned to the top of my blog) just let me know :)

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bluemoonfantasiesiii · 2 years

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Nigredo voice lines under the cut. @phobiaexists this is for you.

General Voice Lines

Hello

I’m Nigredo, a prototype of the Primordial Human Project. I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I hope that by accompanying you in your travels, I can put your mind at ease that I mean no further harm.

Chat: Exploration

So this is what the world above is like. It’s breathtaking.

Chat: Interest

Oh! There’s something over there. Let’s get moving.

When It Rains

I wonder what new life will bloom from this rainfall.

When It Snows

Not again… I’m sick of snow.

When the Sun Is Out

It’s fascinating, how something with the power to destroy everything in an instant is also the source of all life in this world.

Good Morning

Looks like I won’t need to water the plants this morning. There’s a layer of dew over everything.

Good Afternoon

The sun is high. Care to help me tend to the garden?

Good Evening

The lights of the city are mesmerizing from this distance.

Good Night

The lamp grass is aglow. I suppose it’s time to call it a night. Rest well, Traveler.

About Nigredo: Flowers

It’s a bit poetic, isn’t it? Albedo brings things to life figuratively on paper, while I bring things to life literally from the soil.

About Nigredo: Sentience

I’ve dabbled a bit in creating faunaflora. Oh, don’t look at me like that! I don’t harm the animals at all! Any piece of their DNA works perfectly fine, like a strand of fox fur or a snake’s saliva.

About Us: Corruption

Oh? You want to see my alchemical process? Um, I’m sorry, but I’m actually making some revisions to that at present. Previously, I used Durin’s blood as a catalyst, which is…highly unstable to say the least. But I promise I’ll show you once I’ve found a suitable alternative.

About Us: Weapons (Friendship Level 6)

I know how to use a sword as well as the next explorer. It just…takes too much out of me. I don’t have the stamina for it anymore thanks to my condition. That’s why I use a catalyst now. Mondstadt has no shortage of great teachers. Lisa, Sucrose, and even Klee were all a big help in getting me acclimated to my new weapon.

About the Vision (Friendship Level 4)

Cryo Visions…are typically given to those who feel they’ve been left behind, aren’t they? Well, I can’t say I don’t fit that criterium to a T. You were probably expecting me to reject it as a Khaenri’an, right? Why would I? It’s not like I personally harbor any ill will towards the Archons. Besides, this Vision has been useful in my studies. It makes traversing and transporting water much easier.

Something to Share (Friendship Level 4)

Even though the Fellflower was far from my apex achievement, it will always hold sentimental value to me as my first creation. Hm? Oh. Yes, I am still a little bitter that my brother so cruelly murdered it, but I understand why he did it. Besides, if he hadn’t, the creature would still be an unstable predator instead of my precious Ruby.

Interesting Things

How did I survive in the wilderness of Dragonspine? Well, I discovered these large spiders that reside near the roots of petrified trees, and— Huh? Albedo eats them, too? Huh. Fascinating. So our palettes are the same, it appears. I wonder what other identical features we possess… I have a new subject of study.

About Family (Friendship Level 6)

I’m forever grateful that Albedo found it in himself to forgive me and take me in as his brother. I never thought I’d see a day where I had not one but two younger siblings. Klee seems to have taken to me rather quickly, too. That…makes me really happy. I can’t wait to meet Alice properly someday when she returns from her travels.

About Albedo: Instinct (Friendship Level 4)

Although it hasn’t been that long in the spans of our lives, I feel this need to…protect him. It’s the same kind of impulse we both feel for Klee and Ruby. Perhaps the role of older brother really was meant for me, if the feeling comes this naturally.

About Albedo: Comparison (Friendship Level 5)

Even though we should be identical copies of each other, my brother and I seem to have taken diverging paths. He has his art, and I have my plants. It’s actually pretty comforting, being able to have something of my own. I don’t think I could ever be half as good of an artist as him anyway. Now if only he didn’t try to stifle MY creativity. “No more faunaflora,” he says! “It’s too dangerous,” he says! Hmph! It’s not like those snapdragon snakes actually bit anyone!

About Rubedo

I was a bit taken aback the first time he called me “Papa,” but I truly do see Ruby as my child. After all, this is an entirely new form of life that I brought into being with my own two hands. Twice, even. I just want him to be able to enjoy the new life he has. His smile is everything to me.

About Sucrose (Friendship Level 4)

When I first spoke to Sucrose, I thought I had a pretty good read on her, but that timid demeanor of hers is hiding something truly terrifying. I’ve been trying to coax that side out of her. I don’t think she trusts me enough for that just yet, though… A shame. I’d love to see her passion for her field in its full glory.

About Klee (Friendship Level 4)

The impression I got from Albedo is that Klee is exhausting to deal with. Yes, she does seem to have a bottomless well of energy and a knack for small-scale destruction, but I find her personality rather refreshing. She exudes this sort of infectious joy. It’s nice.

About Amber (Friendship Level 4)

The…Outrider, correct? I’m still learning everyone’s titles. Of the three who met me on Dragonspine, she’s been the first to warm up to me. For that, I’m thankful. She seems like a genuinely good person who makes an effort to see the best in people.

About Venti (Friendship Level 4)

Ah, the Anemo Archon. I must say, he’s not at all what I was expecting. The stories that were told back in Khaenri’ah made the Archons all sound like some breed of Herculean boogeymen, but…there’s just this air of sadness around Barbatos that drowns out everything else…

About Rhinedottir (Friendship Level 4)

Rhinedottir…? She’s as cruel and unfeeling as the freezing air of Dragonspine. I no longer consider her my master, and she was never my mother. All she cares about is furthering her own research. She doesn’t care what she has to do or who she has to hurt in the process. Just thinking about her makes my blood boil.

More About Nigredo I

You have questions…about me? I can’t guarantee you any solid answers, as I’m still figuring myself out, but I’ll do my best.

More About Nigredo II (Friendship Level 3)

I spent the majority of my life dissolved inside Durin’s stomach, but in the short periods of time I’ve spent “alive,” I’ve developed a fondness for plants. Did you know there are over 7500 varieties of apples?

More About Nigredo III (Friendship Level 4)

I’ve taken an interest in botanical alchemy. My priority at the moment is seeing if I can use the stamens of flaming flowers to brew an elixir potent enough to battle the ever-present chill of Dragonspine. It doesn’t seem to be quite enough. I may need to collect some materials from the Pyro Regisvine.

More About Nigredo IV (Friendship Level 5)

I’ve been mixing some sleeping agents for my brother. He tends to lose track of time when he’s engrossed in a sketch or a new study, so if it starts getting too late, I slip some into his drink. He’s out like a light in minutes. I’m starting to wonder if I should work on a digestive aid for him as well. He eats like a bird…

More About Nigredo V (Friendship Level 6)

My old name? Why do you need to know that…? It doesn’t matter anymore. The person I was before is gone now. Besides, I’m much happier as Nigredo. I actually have a sense of purpose now. I was brought back to perfect my creator’s research and use it to undo the damage she caused.

Nigredo’s Hobbies

With or without alchemy involved, I find gardening to be quite therapeutic. What my brother and I do is all good fun, but I also find joy in creating life using more…natural methods.

Nigredo’s Troubles

When I was younger, I always dreamed of seeing the world above. Now I’m finally here, and I can’t even explore it because of my condition. Boundless curiosity and an inability to travel have got to be the worst combination imaginable.

Favorite Food

I’m not picky. When you spend months on end out in the wilderness, you don’t really have much of a choice.

Least Favorite Food

When I was out on my own in Dragonspine, I subsisted almost entirely on mint. Needless to say, I’ve grown tired of it now that I have the freedom to choose what I eat. I could easily go the rest of my life without having another leaf of the stuff. Just the smell of it makes me sick now.

Birthday

I don’t really understand the point of celebrating the day one was brought into the world every single year, but some type of acknowledgment seems to be customary across all cultures, so…here. I modified this flaming flower and this mist flower to react to body temperature and adjust themselves accordingly to compensate. This should make your travels a bit easier. Oh, don’t give me that look. I didn’t use Durin’s blood for this, I promise. They’re perfectly safe. I think.

Feelings About Ascension: Intro

What’s this...? I feel...different. Everything is a bit clearer now. Could the Corruption be lifting?

Feelings About Ascension: Building up

The cold that’s always surrounded me is getting easier to bear with each day. Or maybe the world around me is just becoming warmer. Yes, I like that explanation better.

Feelings About Ascension: Climax

Even the relentless flow of time can be viewed as a cycle. The seasons repeat, the sun and moon rise and fall, and the creatures of this world pass on to make way for a new generation. I’m glad I was given a second chance to see it all with you.

Feelings about Ascension: Conclusion

Every spring, plants will bloom again, no matter how harsh the winter that preceded it. I too am like a flower finally reaching for the springtime sun once more after a long, desolate winter. I think I’ll be okay now.

Party Lines

Joining your party:

“Oh, good. I was getting bored.”

“I’m always up for more practice.”

“Let’s head out.”

Elemental Skill

Renaissance: Lunar Nelumbo

Nigredo creates a Lunar Nelumbo using alchemy, which deals AoE Cryo DMG on appearance

“Rise once more!”

“Bloom from the snow!”

“Rebirth!”

Elemental Burst

Rite of Cultivation: Blizzard’s Blight

At Nigredo’s call, Cryo thorns fall upon his enemies, dealing AoE Cryo DMG around him. If a Lunar Nelumbo created by Nigredo himself is on the field, 7 Vengeful Blooms will be generated in the Lunar Nelumbo field, bursting violently and dealing AoE Cryo DMG

“Phoenix of frost!”

“From the ashes!”

“Now feel my suffering!”

Finding treasure:

“Let me sort through this.”

“Things are looking up.”

“Hm. I may have a use for these.”

Light hit taken:

“Is that all you’ve got?”

“Ha! Pathetic!”

Heavy hit taken:

“Focus!”

Low HP:

“I’ve felt worse!”

“I won’t die again!”

“Need to reevaluate.”

Ally at low HP:

“Ugh! Just get behind me!”

“Don’t push yourself! I can do this!”

Fallen:

“But I just…came back…”

“The cycle begins anew…”

“I think this time’s…for good…”

Teapot Dialogue

Idle Quotes

"My next research topic..."

"What if I crossbreed..."

"Can’t use dragon blood..."

"I should go check..."

"Little brother..."

When the player is near

“Oh! You’re back.”

“Care for a chat?”

Opener: “Oh! You’re back. I could use some more conversation practice. Care to help me out?”

>Good morning, Nigredo.

“Morning (Traveler). Ah, sorry about the dirt. I haven’t yet had a chance to clean myself up from my morning trip to the garden.”

>Good night, Nigredo.

“Make sure you get enough rest. My siblings can attest that I’m quite formidable when it comes to getting naughty children to go to bed.”

>How do you like it here?

“To be honest, it’s a little disorienting. I’m still getting used to Teyvat, and now I discover there are creatures that can create pocket dimensions like this?”

>>You’ll get the hang of it eventually.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. It’s just a lot to process at the moment. Just give me a bit of time in here and it’ll sink in soon enough.”

>>>What will you do in the meantime?

“I know that bird-like creature that resides here can simply manifest fully-grown flowers for you… But I want to see how this soil takes to a more natural approach to horticulture.”

>>>Remember to eat on time.

“I’m not my brother, you know. I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself in timely manner, thank you. Push comes to shove, I can just grow my own food.”

“Between the deathly chill of Dragonspine and the scorching acids of Durin’s stomach, this place an idyllic middle ground, just like in that fairy tale with the three bears. I won’t squander a single second here. Thank you.”

-Unlocks at Friendship Level 4-

>Would you like to have a chat with me?

“Glad to see we’re on the same wavelength. What would you like to discuss?”

>>What are you growing now?

“Right now, I’m attempting to breed a variety of cecilias that doesn’t need such harsh wind conditions in order to thrive. It’s been something of a passion project, I suppose.”

>>>Why cecelias?

“Why indeed…? My brother is rather fond of them, so I guess I just naturally gravitated towards them myself.”

>>Any new experiments?

“I’m glad you asked! I’ve taken some samples of the plants created artificially by Tubby and compared them to their real-world counterparts to see if there’s any noticeable difference. The plants in here seems to be rooted to a single point in their maturity, making them essentially immortal.”

>>>And what will you do with this information?

“If I can figure out the technique Tubby uses to manifest these plants, I could potentially create a bundle of cecelias that will never wither. They’re…my brother’s favorite.”

“He rarely smiles, so any opportunity I get to see his eyes light up is a precious one to me. Is this what it feels like to have a family…? Of course, I’m also working on a surprise for you as well, but you’ll have to be patient. I want it to be perfect so as to properly reflect my gratitude.”

-Unlocks at Friendship Level 7-

>Is there anything you’d like to do?

“Of course. Lots of things. I have quite a bit of lost time to make up for. But while I have you here… Mmn… Sorry, this is new for me.”

>>Still struggling with conversation?

“No, it’s not so much the conversation itself as it is the subject of the conversation. I’m not entirely sure how to put it into words without making it sound awkward…”

>>Are you alright?

“I’m fine. I’m just…trying to figure out how to phrase this. This type of conversation…isn’t something I’ve been able to practice.”

>>>Just say what’s on your mind.

>>>I won’t judge you.

“Um… Well… I’d like to try crossbreeding something together. With you. Aside from my brother, you’re the closest companion I have. So I thought, what’s a better bonding activity than creating an entirely new form of life together? Whatever flower blooms from our efforts will then be the symbol of our relationship.”

>>>>That’s surprisingly poetic of you.

“I know. That’s why I was struggling to get it out. For someone who spends so much time around flowers, flowery language doesn’t come very easily to me.”

>>>>What if it’s ugly?

“I don’t believe there’s such a thing. All living beings have some sort of value. I know you believe that, too. Otherwise you wouldn’t have hesitated to run me through a long time ago.”

>>>>>I’d love to help.

“Wonderful! I’m excited to see what we can make together. If you’re satisfied with the results, I can preserve a specimen so you can keep it with you. Well then, when you have a moment to spare, I’ll be waiting in the garden.”

#moon writes shit #in a way #voice lines #genshin impact #rhinesons au #subject two #nigredo

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scarlet--wiccan · 3 years

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On America Chavez and the needless destruction of prior works

Just finished Made In The USA. I'm furious, and to be honest I'm mostly furious on behalf of Rivera, Quinones, and everyone else who worked on America (2017). I don't know if any of these folks would share my feelings of frustration, so I don't necessarily want to speak for them, but I do want to get this off my chest.

I know that audiences had mixed opinions on Rivera's book, but I think that it was imaginative, original, fun, and full to the brim with love for Black and brown LGBT folks. In creating America Chavez's backstory, Rivera expressed a heartfelt and deeply-meditated thesis on heritage and identity-- one which was at once fresh and also clearly rooted in generations of Latin American and Afro-Latine narratives.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the fantasies and futures that exist in art, and the people, places, and realities which are allowed to exist within those fictional worlds. This is at the core every version of the futurist principle-- "there are Black people in the future," per Alisha Wormsley. America is a the sort of fantasy where LGBT Black and Latine people take center stage, and Blackness, Latinidad, and gay identity are simultaneously the foundation and the fabric of the fantastical, utopian worlds that those characters occupy. Those worlds, and the story which unfolds across them, are truly unique, and in my mind, beautiful, and that is why I believe that Rivera's America is a work of great value to the canon of Western comics. I must stress, as well, that it was perhaps the first of its kind-- Rivera claims to be the first Latina to write for Marvel, and is also, to my knowledge, among only a few open lesbians to ever do so.

In five cramped, bleak little issues, Made In The USA has obliterated everything that Rivera and her collaborators built in America (2017). The retcon implemented by Kalinda Vasquez renders Rivera's story, and Gillen's earlier work in Young Avengers, totally moot. Little effort was made to reconcile with those texts-- Made In The USA simply buries them, along with America's pre-existing history, her motives, and several of her relationships-- under the cheap, tired excuse that "it was a dream all along."

I'm in no place to pass judgement on Vasquez's identity and perspective, and I would be remiss if I did not mention that her exploration of America's adoptive family was sweet, and in many scenes, beautifully executed. I must, however, say that the new backstory she has constructed lacks even an ounce of America (2017)'s heart, and that the entire premise is hackneyed and underdeveloped. She's not from outer space or a parallel world-- she was a traumatized child with a rare medical condition. We never really come to understand that what condition or its treatments actually are, and Vasquez fails to address America's connection to the Demiurge or the fact that Fuertona was demonstrated to be a real place-- nor the fact America's own grandmother, Madrimar, was a living person.

Overall, the undermining and destruction of continuity simply are not earned. It seems almost fitting that the series concluded with the abrupt disappearance, and possible death, of America's newly-discovered sister-- a grim and pointless death that needlessly punishes the title character, much as her fans are needlessly punished for their love and investment in such a unique and historically important superhero.

#america chavez #made in the usa #young avengers #kalinda vazquez #gabby rivera #kieron gillen

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lady-elora · 3 years

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"It was love", or five reasons and five refutations of hatred for sylki

So, folks, I did it. I finally translated from Russian an amazing article about the romantic line in “Loki”. I agree with every word in it. Hope it’ll help all the sylki shipers to fend off the attacks of antis with a reasoned arguments.

Would you like to talk about our god Odin the most controversial Marvel franchise pairing which caused a storm of indignation and negative emotions on the part of fans?

We're talking about Loki/Sylvie from "Loki" (2021) mini-series, or sylki (lovie) as they were called by fans. Apparently a simple get-pairing consisting of a man and a woman (or bisexual gender fluids, if you prefer), but some people were shocked by such a relationship on the screen. Why? What for? How? That may be your questions. So we’ll discuss their claims and groundlessness of them in this article.

But before we start talking about it, I want to clarify what actually the concept of the "selfcest" is.

Usually we marked as a "selfcest" those works that describe the relationship of a character with himself. Most often, this warning implies a "doubling" of the character; alternatively – the same character is taken at different ages or falls for his/her absolutely identical copies.

Agreed?

Let's go then.

< < < 1 > > >

The first and main thing which follows from the definition above is: "Showing the selfcest on the screen is disgusting and immoral!"

It also follows from the definition above that the selfcest is the relationship of the same character with himself in the form of identical copies both in character and appearance. The highest form of narcissism, according to Mobius (which, in fact, is to some extent true). Horrors from a snuffbox, according to some impressionable audience. It hardly makes sense to rant about the fact that masturbation is also a form of selfcest (although the fact is rather amusing).

The bottom line is that if Loki once again created a copy of himself to deceive someone and fell in love with it, it would be a selfcest. Splitting himself into two people and building a relationship between them is a selfcest as well. Turning into a hermaphrodite and ... no, this is something completely perverted.

The basis of the selfcest is absolute identity. If we take a character who is so in love with him/herself that he/she sees relationships only with him/herself, then in such a case he/she can only build them with a perfect scanned copy of him/herself. It will be very easy for the person who knows him/herself inside and out to notice some inconsistencies in a partner, and then it makes no sense to build a relationship if he/she is not as perfect (as the "original" is), isn’t it? That’s how this logic works.

And now attention, please!

Is the romance of two Elvis Presley understudies a selfcest?

They look almost the same, both like Elvis... But no, right? These two people are different people, with different tempers and lives, who are similar only in appearance and pseudonyms. So this is a very ordinary relationship.

Now let's get back to our sheep. So we have two people from different worlds, with different stories, different tempers, different powers and different external signs who were born under the same name and later lived their lives with different ones. The only thing that is identical in them is the essence of the God of Mischief. So where is the ground for an egoistic selfcest? Nowhere.

Don't forget about identity. We can say that they are very similar, since initially they are both Lokis. But do you wanna say it's so hard to meet similar people in real life? No. Do you wanna say it's hard to meet similar people in two similar universes? No. I'll tell you a secret: writers often like to use the trope of intertwining almost identical tempers between characters to show their mental connection. And it's not a crime, but a common technique. And, again, a "similarity" doesn't fall under the criteria of selfcest.

And finally, if Sylvie were an exact copy of Loki, would there be people who love one but can't stand the other? It's the same character after all, so what's the problem? But the point is that Loki is Loki. And Sylvie is Sylvie. They exist separately from each other and are not the same due to the presence of distinctive features.

If you want to use Kang's words, remember that he admired these two.

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The second and no less amusing is "Loki doesn't need a love interest at all!"

I'm sorry, but which Loki?

The one who appeared in all the films of the series "Thor" and "The Avengers"?

He's dead, guys.

And Loki from the series is a character torn out from the finale of the first "Avengers" and revamped by TVA with the help of an impromptu session of psychologist Mobius and viewing on-screen all of his promising deeds. This Loki was told head-on that he was created as a minor character in order to plot his machinations for the development of the protagonists and he was unnecessary to the whole world. This Loki has an advantage over the previously known version of himself just in knowing this fact. This Loki has recognized for everyone and for himself that he didn't want to harm the others. And this Loki, by definition, is already a different character, but for some reason people tailor him to a long-familiar one, ignoring the obvious things point-blank.

He is no stranger to simple human feelings, because every version of the God of Mischief is initially an offended and despised child grown up in the shadow of his own brother, a child who just wanted to be loved too and in the same way. Only the paths to this under-goal were different for all Lokis. One killed Thor in order to remain the only ruler (people always adore kings), another invented unthinkable feats (people love heroes), the third built a perfect world out of promises for everyone, the fourth tried to become a hero himself, but was too crushed to find mistakes in his plan, the fifth excluded himself from the equation so that everyone understood he didn't want to harm the others and to cause the pain.

Loki from the series is a version that knows everything about himself, but at the same time is not bound by the framework of the other variants' plot. He doesn't need to win back Asgard, to fight with Thanos, with the Avengers, with contempt and so on. He is free from borders. He is from the world where Frigga never died. He is the only Loki without the "glorious purpose". He is different.

So his attitude to other people is now different as well. It's stupid to perceive this version exactly as a long-known character.

After all he had seen, this Loki would hardly be able to live alone like any other. He is extremely naked and needs love (in any form), as the most reliable and not bringing destruction and suffering point of support.

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The third and my favorite thing is: "Love in five minutes! Why did it come out at all?"

Why did Loki fall for Sylvie, and even in a couple of days?

OK, you can quite easily explain Sylvie's motivation: she found a person who had interest for her, who suddenly cared about her, protected her... Could he be an unworthy party in such a case? Moreover, before that, Sylvie, in principle, had no close people and she internally really lacked such an attitude to herself, banal love (parents, people, friends, romantic), which she hadn’t due to the lack of normal childhood and a stable life.

But Loki?..

But Loki is not a vain killing machine from The Avengers anymore, not a person for whom the self-affirmation is the only goal in life. Let's rewind a little, and remember that he was brainwashed in TVA and lowered from heaven to earth. Loki was always reasonable. Loki could always be courteous and friendly. Loki was always a gentleman. And finally he realized that there's no sense in all this aggression and hyperbolized narcissism, and he pushed his one-actor theater aside in order to at least normally rethink the concept of time and reality.

And here comes Sylvie.

Unpredictable, dangerous, painfully similar to him, but at the same time completely different. Loki never had good intentions in his conquests; only the ways were sometimes good. Sylvie went to the good liberation of people and the return of their right to choose their lives, but through blood. In fact, she is his mirror image.

She intrigued. A wild person who swung at the destruction of the time control organization alone and coped well with it.

However, the countdown started from the moment when they both got on the train. The moment when Loki began to understand what the real essence of Sylvie was. Grown up in fear, distrustful, broken Sylvie, who was desperately trying to make TVA pay for everything. For everyone. And it was amazing for him.

Here, as for me, the Moffat's quote about his BBC Sherlock fits very well: ..when he saw her, he thought: "Maybe there can be someone like me?" – but with a slight nuance that Loki himself would like to be someone like that. Like a fighter in spite of and for the good, causing admiration. With some corrections in the form of the absence of a painful childhood, despair and anger.

Then the spring of "Loki's MeUs" begins to unwind, and the essence of it is that he understands her and her feelings, because, although they are different people, they are internally similar. Loki looks at her as if she is a person he has known for a very long time, but not completely. It's like if you met an old childhood friend seven years later: it seems to be the same, but also it seems to be different. It seems that everything is elementary, but there's not enough of a certain number of details.

(He'll realize later that he was missing much more).

So we take the initial interest, add the conditional knowledge of a person, and we get a very specific variation of the trope "from friends to lovers".

This may seem far-fetched, but we have two factors on our hands that are fundamental for this trope. Keep them in your head, but for now, let's applaud the fact that Marvel for the first time figured out how to derive formulas for the logical development of relationships in the shortest possible time. In what way? In the most elementary way: through psychology.

There's such a thing as the stages of the formation of relationships, which includes:

- Falling in love (interest, flirting, rethinking)

- Trust (challenge, joint activity, mutual assistance)

- A sense of kinship (empathy, responsibility, confidence)

- A sense of unity

- Love

In our case, only the first three points are considered, but the third one is with a chip in the form of a final. I should also focus attention on the fact we are not considering love. We are considering a serious crush, which can develop into love, since the latter one is a slightly longer process that still has to go through to the end. And we consider them in extreme (+accelerated by our two fundamental factors) conditions, where our heroes are forced to work together and trust each other in order to survive.

After reviewing the aspects of the three points we have chosen, we can easily draw analogies with the events that happened with Loki and Sylvie.

They are interested in each other, they think that they know each other, they develop in relationships with each other in a completely healthy way. A little faster than in the series for a hundred episodes maybe, but it is conditioned.

Needless to say, this is impossible and illogical: we have the clearest example of love from nowhere in the form of a couple of Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne, who had absolutely no prerequisites to it, but at the same time kissed at the end of the first film. Nothing personal, it's just a fact.

The relations of our "defendants" aren't based on carnal attraction, they didn't immediately break out ready-made due to a rush of adrenaline, they are not one-sided and not abusive. Loki and Sylvie carry about each other, support each other (if it doesn't seem so, then we'll also talk about Sylvie a little later, everything in its own time), plus sympathy and love based on the fact that a person is ready to fight with you and trust you, sounds very appropriate, doesn't it?

And yes, there are similar examples of "love in five minutes" in life, which I've also seen. This is real.

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The fourth thing which also makes me roll my eyes is "Sylvie didn't need relationships at all and she didn't care about Loki."

So let's make a small lyrical digression and think about who Sylvie is.

The Goddess of Mischief? Yep, but far from Loki, which means there's no sense to adjust her to the same classic image. As a child, Sylvie was dragged out of her own world. As a child, Sylvie fled across the time with fear and horror from TVA. Sylvie hid all her conscious life and saw people dying around her over and over again. Sylvie knew that outside of the apocalypses millions are simply dying from the hands of TVA too. She was alone all the time, during all her life she developed anger and hatred for this organization, until revenge for herself and for others became the only meaning of her life.

And here comes Loki.

Another version of the God of Mischief, which forces her to rebuild the plan on the go, in order to still bring it to the end. Frivolous, broken, stucked up Loki. He lazily, automatically puts sticks in her wheels. And then, on Lamentis, he suddenly decides to fight with her and help. After that, he completely trusts her with his life and cares about her own. And it seems to her like some kind of nonsense, like another trick, an invention for personal gain. Sylvie understands the essence of Loki, but she can't perceive him the way he perceives her. She sees in him what she could have become without the intervention of TVA.

But after that rush through the city, after realizing the hopelessness of the situation, when he says he is sorry and he thinks she is amazing, something clicks in her head. No one has ever cared about her (in this regard, she is not like Loki, who had at least Frigga), and now Loki, who knows her only from the archives and her meager life-story, who dragged her into the apocalypse, but also tried his best to help her to get out, just says that he is fascinated.

Sylvie grew up with her own concept of truth and lies: for her, there's only her truth and the eternal deception from the others. And then she thinks: may it be that..?

The thoughts that no one on the entire Timeline needs her, and that she should have recognized the lie, are marinating in her head to the end. Loki is not like the people she has spent her whole life with (he looks more like her, understands more or tries to understand at least; he believes), Loki behaves strangely and worries about her. Sylvie can't believe it (her past affects her completely), but subconsciously she wants someone to really care about her.

And she starts taking care of Loki in return. She comes closer and closer, but at the same time she is ready to turn around and rush back at any moment. Because she's scared. Sophia Di Martino says that for Sylvie, feelings are something new, unknown, and such things always cause fear in people. She tries to deny it, to be ironic, she's waiting for a trick, but doesn't move away.

She's just thinking: "Come on. Betray me. Betray me so that I'll be right again and trust no one anymore."

But Loki doesn't betray her. On the contrary: he recognizes that he cares of her, he tries to protect her with all his might. And that's the moment when Sylvie finally falls in love. That's why she pushes him through the portal to TVA which – the Multiverse is being formed, yay – is the safest place at the time.

Why didn't she give up on killing Kang? Because that was her glorious purpose. Sylvie lived with the revenge and the dream of saving everyone from the dictator and she just couldn't give up all this after the horrors that she experienced in her life. Blood, death and fear – that's what she saw during all these years. But Loki didn't see that so he couldn't understand. That's why Sylvie didn't listen to him.

And if she didn't care about Loki, if she didn't feel anything at all, Sylvie would have killed him the moment her sword was at his neck. She'd killed before – it wouldn't be a problem. But she does care of Loki.

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The fifth and final thing is "These relationships hinder the development of both characters!"

And that's the funniest claim from those who watched the series with their eyes closed.

During the series, Sylvie and Loki are revealed from new sides thanks to their feelings. Caring for others, compassion, responsibility, the very fact of showing love for another person – all this develops them both. The friendship was shown through Mobius. The family has always been represented by Thor, Odin and Frigga. But showrunners wanted to reveal Loki from all sides, decompose him into components and show what he is from the inside in all aspects. And they did it.

Loki, who doesn't care about the fate of the Universe, and who only wants to regain world domination again, turns into a hero who wants to save the whole world. And one more person.

With Sylvie, it's a little more difficult, due to the fact that her life was also more difficult. Her case is more lost. However, in the end we see that such a long-awaited retribution doesn't bring her satisfaction. Because she understands the wrongness of this act, she regrets it and realizes that everything was wrong. But she realizes it too late.

If we had cut Loki out of her life, Sylvie would have killed the Keeper without any guilt, without feeling remorse, because she wouldn't have known that everything could be different, that she might choose another way.

This is what is called character development.

Sophia says both Loki and Sylvie feel the same, they grow together, but at different rates. And by the end of the series, Sylvie is approximately where Loki was after a psychotherapy session with Mobius. But not at the very beginning – that's what's important.

I hope this article has at least a little explained the whole essence of sylki pairing, because surely I'm not Tom and Sophia, who know their characters best. However, trying is something, isn't it?

Thanks for attention ;)

Source: «Это была любовь», или пять причин и пять опровержений ненависти к Sylki

#loki #sylvie #loki x sylvie #loki series #sylki #lovie #lovedaggers #fandom analytics #translation from russian

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amidstsaltandsmoke · 3 years

Note

prompt 142 👀

...anon, I promise I didn't forget about you! Life™ and writers block/doubt had me stuck for a while. Apologies that this was sent something like 5ish weeks ago? I originally had a whole other idea written for this one but didn't like it and scrapped it. Not sure how much I like this one but I hope that you do!! Someday I will learn how to write an actual drabble-sized drabble. Thank you for sending the prompt!💛 P.S. I changed the wording around a little bit, I hope you don't mind :) ________________________ Prompt: “Hold my hand so he gets jealous.” Dany was a master at these types of work events by now, but the past few weeks, especially, had been draining. That was typical for a start-up, when they were trying to garner as much outreach as possible. Traveling between two different states and another country and back in the span of 7 days was a whole other animal, however.

This affair was meant to be a little more informal, but the air was still stuffy with corporate suits slithering about. Her favorite colleague and come-to-be wonderful friend had been working with her to get the head honchos drunk the quickest, that way they would be less inclined to hover and more likely to forget the goings on entirely.

But it wasn’t any of that that had her so on edge. It was that Jon was acting particularly distant ever since they’d all arrived nearly three hours ago now, and he seemed to almost be evading her.

Jon Snow, the young visionary who co-founded the company alongside her, who developed the technology that was rapidly playing a vital role in detecting and detaining human traffickers. That was sexy all on its own, but tonight he was dressed in a crisp, slim black suit, his dark locks half pulled back behind his head, his short beard trimmed just a little more for the gala.

They'd spent many a late evening and early morning in the office and over video conference working out the kinks of their start-up, smoothing wrinkles and always doing their best to stay ahead of their goals, where seeing one another so groomed and freshened up it was almost jarring. Typically - especially by the end of their days when work ran over - they'd been too riddled with exhaustion to bother keeping up physical appearances. There were more important matters that needed tending. And plus, as magnificent as he looked now, when he was a little disheveled with his riotous curly hair strewn about his head, his black thick framed glasses, his button-down loosened at the collar...there was an odd sort of comfort she found with that, and in knowing he was comfortable enough in her presence to relax.

She devoted so much of her young life to this dream and to have found someone just as driven, reliable, and enthusiastic about it was beyond her hopes and dreams.

But it also came with some side effects.

Months of time spent together between just the two of them had, inadvertently, created a wild storm of feelings for him. She found herself thinking about him on her days off and in her time away from the office, of which she spent more there than home these days. Dinner was more frequently than not held in one of their offices, depending on how they were feeling by the end of a strenuous day - his was always cooler with the air conditioning turned so low she oftentimes wondered how he didn't get hypothermia sitting in there.

On the other hand, she cranked up the heat in hers, and she received mirroring grumbles from Jon, how his northern skin would simply melt and she'd be left scooping him up off the floor.

To her advantage, however, that meant loosened layers of clothing, sometimes less of it if she were lucky. The same went to his benefit, too; he thought she didn't notice his wandering eyes, but of course she did. Just as she felt she was smooth enough to get a study on his stacked arms when he would remote even his button-down and left himself in a snug white or black plain t-shirt. That occurrence only happened once; she possibly hadn't been as discreet about her ogling as her mind had told her. Not when the cotton fiber was stretched so perfectly over his broad, muscular chest and fit his biceps like a rubber glove.

Sometimes, in the last hour of the day when they were already working well over their regular time, they would give themselves a break and kick back. They dove into topics ranging from favorite movies to deeper subjects like their most fucked up childhood memory. It turned out they had quite a lot in common, which fed into her ever-growing "things I adore about Jon Snow" bank that she stored away in her mind.

The trouble was, workplace romance was simply not allowed. At least, not within the same departments, and it still required paperwork to be filled out with an assortment of terms and agreements to abide to. Considering they were co founders together, that made things trickier.

Neither of them spoke any of this into the atmosphere, but it was palpable, and it got more torturous as time went on. Jon was the stronger one out of the two of them, and she knew he would never act on anything if it meant she could get let go or demoted. Their CEO could be a little bit of a hardass when it came down to company policies, but Dany was convinced they could find a way to make things work.

That included doing so behind everyone's backs. In all of the time they spent together without other company, Dany could count on one hand how many times there was ever anybody else in the building besides them when they were pulling extra hours. They could easily keep their hands to themselves during the day around their colleagues. At least, she thought so. It would at least make for a very exciting night cap to the day once they were able to be alone.

Missandei and Oberyn were the only two people she could trust to confide in, and to also keep it between just the three of them. Thus far, they did nothing but root for her luck to change, that maybe one of them would just bite the bullet and finally hook up. She was quite tired of skirting around it when she was with Jon, and the tension that thickened between them was going to reach a breaking point.

If she didn’t do something soon, if not just to confirm that he had it as bad as she did, she would wind up doing something impulsive, like pouncing on him one of these days when nobody was around. Or, possibly, when they had an audience.

Dany turned around and scanned the room until she latched onto him, where he was shaking hands and chatting up other people. He was not the tallest man in the world, but his presence was demanding, despite his humbleness. Every now and again, even in conversation, he would look up and around as if seeking something or someone. A little foolishly, she hoped it was her, though even in heels she was below average height compared to most everyone else in the room and would be a little difficult to locate.

"Go get that ass, girl," Oberyn growled into her ear, whacking her bum with the back of his hand, to which she promptly slugged his arm.

"Ouch!" He hissed, rubbing at the offended area. His smugness returned soon after, lips ticking up at the corners. "You'd better save that strength, you will need it later!"

He was darting off into the crowd with a chortle before she could scold him, and it took all of her professional mind to not flip off his retreating back.

“So...how are you going to seduce the elusive Jon Snow?” Missi inquired with a sassy eyebrow raised, her nearly-empty drink clutched in her hand.

Dany sighed, trying to not be too obvious as she observed him flitting from person to person. “I’m starting to think I’d imagined the entire thing,” she muttered with some frustration.

Missi pouted. “I don’t know about that. Not only are there a lot of snitches here that are probably keeping him at arms’ length, but have you not noticed Jon only goes to these things if you’re here?”

Dany frowned, finally tearing her eyes away from Jon to gape at her friend. “What? No, he’s gone to plenty without me, I’m sure of it…”

But was she? In hindsight, now that she really thought about it, there was never a social work event that Jon ever reported to her when she couldn’t make it. She could recall a handful where she went for the both of them, because he would much rather stay lat to play catch-up than mingle with large groups of people, and whenever there was news or gossip, he was the first person she’d save it for.

“You need to make him show you that he wants you just as bad as you want him. I’m sure he has the same fantasies-”

“Missi,” Dany drawled, tilting her head back and scrunching up her face. Yes, she and Missi may have shared almost daily secret huddles in the office, most of which entailed Dany agonizing over Jon Snow haunting her dreams on a regular basis. Rather than his hands rolling up his sleeves because the air was stifling, it was him doing so and crawling over her. Instead of him crouching down near her feet to pick up the pen he’d just dropped, it was him lowering himself to lift up the hem of her skirt and situate his face between her thighs. Sometimes it was sweeter than that: his hands sweeping wisps of hair away from her face when she gave up on it at the end of the day, or he would say “fuck it” to a prticularly agitating project and would gather her up and they would hold eah other on his office couch.

Reality was reflective of the sweetness of her wandering thoughts, just much less physical. They always texted each other when they each got home safely. By now, they’d each memorized their favorite go-to take-out preferences for various restaurants. If someone was having a rougher-than-usual day, one would send the other home and stay longer to cover them (if they were both having an equally terrible day, it came down to a couple rounds of rock-paper-scissors).

All things friends would do for one another, sure, except for the unbearable pull between them that was almost a physical thing.

In recent weeks, they began texting each other regularly, and most of it did not pertain to work, unless they were poking fun at it. A handful of times, Jon snapped photos of something of interest of Dany’s, and his message screamed “this made me think of you” without the actual words. It was the subtext. Usually something along the lines of, “didn’t you mention you were looking for this for about a million years?” in regards to a really cute coffee bar that had been sold out in her favorite color, a lemon yellow, that Jon had managed to find. And reserved for her special so nobody would snatch it up.

Or the multiple times he would share photos of his beautiful snow-white dog, Ghost, in various odd positions, or making strange faces, and adding something like: “a nightcap to your shitty day?”

And Dany loved to return the favor, though it was no competition. She just genuinely adored making him smile. Sometimes it was taking the piss out of him when he was extra grumpy, which immediately put him in a lighter mood. It was also bringing in an obnoxious box of coffee to share between them during the early dawn hours when nobody should be congregating for work-related endeavors at such an ungodly time. Just last week, he had been fidgeting more than usual and was noticeably distracted. When she had inquired what the issue was, he mentioned that Ghost was probably crossing his legs at that point since Jon was running late. As Dany had another errand to run before stopping home, she’d offered to let him out since Jon had a late conference that evening, and he had been all-too-happy in handing her over his keys.

The snort from Missi that invaded Dany’s thoughts had her turning her head toward her friend, who looked doubtful. “Probably every sane person in this room has had a fantasy about you. Jon is at the very top of that list."

Dany grimaced. "Please don't say things like that when I have to look all these people in the eye tonight.”

She weighed Missi’s words, but nothing came to mind right away. Jon appeared too distracted to notice anything she did anyway, and she also didn’t want to come off as desperate, especially if it might raise suspicions amongst others in the ballroom.

Then an idea struck her when she spotted Oberyn once more. Their marketing sleuth, and someone she had grown fond of because of his warm demeanor toward everyone he met. He was the friends-with-everyone type, and he was flagging her down as if he’d read her mind, so she excused herself and weaved through the crowd until she reached him.

Oberyn pecked each of her cheeks, even though he’d just seen her a little while ago, then held her out by her arms and gave her a slow once-over as if he’d only been seeing her for the first time that night. With anyone else, she would have balked, but she knew him well enough to understand it was a platonic gesture. Once his eyes reached hers again, his dark brow lifted to his hairline. “How has the white wolf kept his paws off of you this long?”

Dany scowled, flicking his shoulder. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself for the past several months.”

“Well, what’s the hold-up?”

Sighing, Dany made a secret peek behind Oberyn where Jon was moving closer. Briefly did their eyes lock, and she turned back to Oberyn. “Hold my hand,” she said, extending her own for his.

“Why? So he gets jealous?” Oberyn drawled, snatching up her hand and taking it a step further by pressing a kiss to the top of it.

“Maybe,” she replied, straightening her spine by her boldness.

They conversed for some time, getting cozy and giggling away and eventually were joined by some of their other colleagues. When someone made a point to question why they were holding hands, Oberyn was quick on his feet in explaining that there were no rules to dating across different departments, only if two people worked in the same one. But it soured her stomach.

After she and Oberyn stayed that way for a short time, chatting about things she could barely bring herself to care much about as Jon edged past them, her shoulders slumped as she twisted about to watch him make a beeline for the bar.

“Daenerys,” Oberyn called to her sympathetically, “go to him. You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep up this silly game,” he explained and wiggled their conjoined hands, gently returning hers to her.

She swallowed and nodded, feeling childish that she even considered making such a move. Most of the guests were out on the dance floor, so it was easier to maneuver around to get to the bar where Jon had just collected his drink. Her nerves were wrecked, and this time it was the uncertainty of what reaction she may get, despite her earlier confidence.

As he was turning around, she observed him downing a quick shot before he realized she was there. He returned the glass to the counter and gave her his full attention. “Hey,” he rasped, his throat likely still burning from the liquor.

The pessimistic thoughts ate at her once more. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d show up tonight.” She tried for casual conversation, though it sounded forced even to her own ears.

Shrugging, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Figured I ought to make an appearance. You look nice, by the way.”

The tight smile he produced felt uncharacteristically forced, almost nervous. She shifted on her heeled feet, her mouth suddenly parched, her words half choked out. “Thanks. So do you,” she drew in a silent breath, and decided she couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you alright?”

“Aye, just...tired,” he landed on, but she wasn’t convinced. Before she could dig a little deeper, his attention fell on something behind her. She followed his gaze and caught Oberyn heading their way. She wasn’t sure what to make of his determined expression, but something about it made her a little queasy.

“I should probably go before your boyfriend gets upset,” Jon murmured just loud enough for her to hear; he didn’t give her a chance to catch him before she realized what he’d said and disappeared on her.

Oberyn stopped just short of Dany. “What was that all about? It looked like you needed rescuing.”

Pressing her eyes closed, Dany silently cursed herself. “I’m an idiot, that’s what happened. I’ll catch you later,” she cut him an apologetic glance and squeezed his arm before trailing in the direction of where Jon slunk off to.

___________________

The damned ballroom and her petite height made it hard to see above anyone, but luckily she was able to locate him by asking around if anyone had seen him. When she was notified he had mentioned he wasn’t feeling well and wanted to take off without any commotion, her heart sank. She was a damn fool, and now she was half running in six-inch heels, the skirt of her dress hiked up so she wouldn’t land herself a concussion, hoping beyond hope he hadn’t reached the parking lot yet.

She almost passed him up when she barged her way outside, frantically searching over the lot, breathless, to spot his car. A movement to her left made her jump, her hand flying to her chest until Jon stepped beneath the dim patio light and let her breathe again.

"Bloody hells," she exhaled, observing him as he put out his cigarette with his shoe and tossed the butt into the trash.

"Sorry," he chuckled, once more sheltering his hands inside his pockets as he turned his shadowed eyes on her.

"I didn't know you smoked," she mused, still trying to calm her heart.

Jon ducked his head, and she thought she caught a smirk on him, but it was too dark to tell. "Only sometimes. What are you doing out here, anyway?"

So much for giving her heart time to settle - now it kickstarted tenfold. There was no way to be honest without the whole truth. She supposed now was as good a time as any, best as they didn't have an audience. "I was hoping to catch you before you'd left," she paused, his gaze lifting and resting hard on her. So intense that she averted hers to her feet while she sounded her admission. "Oberyn isn't my boyfriend."

After a moment of silence, she sought his reaction. He lifted a shoulder "It's not my business, Dany."

"No. It is, because…," she took a half step closer, then squeezed her eyes shut. It sounded so childish to even say it. "I'd asked him to do me a favor so that it might make you jealous."

It came out so quickly she didn't think he understood half the words. But he was frowning when she braved opening her eyes again. "And why would you want to do that, Dany?"

His voice fell an octave lower, practically purring, and it left her momentarily stunned in place even as he began to close in on her. The use of her nickname in such a manner was leaving her in a delirious state. By the time he stopped, just a hair’s breadth short of their toes touching, she was having to tilt her head up to see him. Even despite the added height of her shoes. Somehow, her voice didn't quiver with the hopeful anticipation that was setting her nerves alight.

With whatever scrap of courage she had left, she voiced it into the world. "Because I really, really, really like you, and it's been torture trying to piece together whether the feeling is mutual, or if it's a figment of my imagination."

His frown returned, deeper than before, his eyes darting between each of hers. "How could you ever think it's one-sided?" He asked gruffly, and a knot firmly wrapped around her throat. Maybe that was a good thing, to prevent her from saying anything that would break the spell. “You occupy my mind ninety percent of the time,” he said, “the other ten is me trying to figure out how to stop thinking about you for five bloody minutes so I can get work done without being distracted.”

She huffed out a breath of relief, finally allowing herself to smile. It was good that it was night time so the red sweeping over her cheeks was well hidden. Still, she ducked her head to give herself a moment to dwell on his confession. His finger gently encouraged her to come back to him though, and suddenly the air between them was thin, his breath puffing against her lips.

A raucous shriek just a little way over inside the building made them both jump apart, a group of intoxicated people bowling their way through the double doors and out onto the patio. One of them slurred their apology as they stumbled out into the parking lot, exclaiming about how they couldn’t wait to get their hands on a fat greasy burger and then throw it up later. There couldn’t have possibly been anything much better at ruining the mood than that.

Jon huffed when he looked at her, rubbing at his forehead. No doubt his heart was beating just as violently against his chest as hers was. Without a word, he snatched up Dany’s hand and tugged her into the grassy area, hidden behind the solid wall of the venue. After double checking over his shoulder, he pressed himself against the rough brick wall and pulled her flat against him while she gasped, gently sweeping away small wisps of hair that got in his way.

His hand cradling her jaw, he finally, finally, dipped his head until his lips were brushing over hers. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, overstimulated by months of need for him, her hand fisting his shirt whilst the other curled around the back of his neck. His hands cuffed her waist and kept her close, the tips of his fingers digging into the fleshy bits of her hips when she nudged open his mouth to slip her tongue into the hot confines of his.

The low groan he elicited forced one of her own from her throat, and then everything was escalating at a dizzying pace; their hands were roaming everywhere they could reach, exchanging nips and licks and everything inbetween until they were forced apart for air. Where she had wedged her thigh between his, she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal, and if it weren’t for the consequences she would have her way with him in the dirt and the grass. Thorn bushes be damned.

“We should probably take this somewhere else,” he whispered, winded, and she was happy that he wasn’t about to suggest they stop altogether.

She nodded before the last word was out. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”

Jon considered their surroundings carefully, then grabbed her hand.

_______

Their seatbelts were thrown off so hard, Dany was surprised they hadn’t accidentally shattered Jon’s car windows with the force. They’d snuck off into the parking lot and after a heady makeout session, Jon decided they ought to find somewhere a little more private, settling on a nearby park where the only source of light was several yards away.

The second he cut the engine they crashed together, pawing at one another until he dragged her over onto his lap. His hands molded to her ass, but the material of her dress made him growl with frustration that it didn’t allow him the access he desired, so he slid them beneath and his head smacked back against his headrest when he discovered she’d foregone panties with a groan between his teeth.

Dany moaned as his fingers kneaded her bare flesh, and she took advantage of the new exposure of skin down the column of his neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses and tiny bites where the collar of his dress shirts could mask.

Jon shifted his legs and bumped into the steering wheel with a crack. “Ouch, fuck,” he grumbled, and she realized their current position wasn’t very practical if they wanted things to go any further.

“Are you okay?” Dany asked against his clammy skin, reaching behind her to smooth her hand over the offended kneecap.

“More than,” he replied, curling his fingers around to her inner, upper thighs and making her tremble. He was so close to her cunt that she could feel his heat against it, and her forehead fell against his chest, her hips rocking to seek the friction she so desperately needed. But he never gave her it; in fact, he seemed keen on doing just the opposite, skimming his fingers just at the juncture, trailing them down the length of her thighs, squeezing her ass on the way up each time.

Even when she was left a writhing mess and kissed him savagely, popped open the first couple of buttons so she could get more of him, he still refused to touch her there.

For now.

Jon pulled at her bottom lip, his voice a low, husky whisper. “We’ll have more room in the back seat.”

“What are your intentions, Jon Snow?” She inquired with feigned innocence.

With a light smack to her bum, he chewed on his bottom lip. “Get back there and I’ll show you.”

It took some finagling, but soon enough they were in the more spacious back seats, and she quickly unstrapped her heels. Jon’s shoes were next, and then he was helping her out of her dress, carefully rolling it upward until it was off of her, leaving her completely exposed for his viewing. His arms froze in the air, her dress still clutched in his hands as he took her in. The light didn’t illuminate much, but it was enough to see one another clearly.

Since he was so enlightened by her breasts, she giggled and rose onto her knees, taking her dress and letting it drop to the floor whilst she assisted him in removing his suit jacket. Once that was shed, he instantly filled his palms with her breasts, his thumbs sweeping over her pebbled nipples. He was lucky she had enough strength to not buckle under his touch, her teeth capturing her bottom lip in a hasty endeavor to rid him entirely of his clothing so she could return the favor.

Then she stilled, a thought occurring to her. “Are you sure you want to do this in your car? It might get messy…,” she noted as he briefly ceased his fondling to work on shedding his pants, his dark eyes gleaming in the light.

Once he made quick work of them, his jacket was next in the pile they haphazardly tossed up front. “It’ll give me something to think about on my commute,” he rasped, and it took her a beat to understand what he meant, unable to bite back a grin. By now her cunt ached for him and they’d only just started getting things moving.

Her hands slid over his shoulders, taking his shirt with it, the play of dim light and shadows over his sculpted body making her mouth go dry and her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. Jon shifted up higher to free his arms, her fingers skimming down his chest and over the ebbs of his abdomen, eyes falling to where his cock was straining and hard in the cotton of his boxer briefs. Without anymore delay, Dany slipped her hand beneath the waistband and curled her fingers around the rigid, hot skin, twisting lightly until he was sucking sharp breaths of air through his teeth.

In a flash, he shucked off his boxer briefs and hooked an arm around her waist, ravaging her mouth. As he pressed tighter against her, his thick length nestled between her thighs, sliding along her cunt and forcing her mouth to pop open with a heady moan.

"You're soaked," Jon whispered harshly, his other hand clutched her ass cheek to keep her stationary, his breaths short puffs over her face as he slowly teased the both of them with long, slow strokes of his cock until he was thoroughly coated with her, their clammy foreheads thumping together.

Dany gripped his lats with her hands, trying to be mindful that she didn't score his skin with her nails, but barely had half a mind to care. She rolled her hips with him, her entire body quivering when he dragged his cock over her clit. The sounds erupting from her seemed to drive him mad as he echoed her.

She chanced a glimpse down between the narrow gap between them each time he pulled away, her peak so near the edge already that the sight of his wet, shiny cock disappearing between her thighs had her nearly coming just there. "I need you, Jon," she whimpered, grateful that he was as desperate as she felt. Any other time she would gladly drag it on, but she'd waited long enough to have this with him, and she was far too impatient to wait a second longer.

Carefully, she was lowered onto her back. They shared a few soft chuckles as they tried to figure out the most comfortable position for the both of them. Finally, she settled one leg off and planted the tips of her toes on the floor, the other tossed over his shoulder, while he knelt one knee on the seat and held himself up with the other on the floor.

He allowed himself some time to take her in all sprawled out for him, dragging the soft pads of his fingers down the length of her body just as she did his earlier. His hands stopped to gently massage her breasts, which were beginning to heave with anticipation, and he traced every curve of her body.

Dany swallowed, cuffing her hands around his biceps as he lowered himself to kiss her softly. Lips locked together, he nudged hers open, drawing in her upper lip and suckling on it, one hand braced near her head whilst the other made her squirm as it explored her hips, her inner thighs, until he have her exactly what she was near begging for. He barely glanced over her juices and she was moaning so loudly she was glad they'd gone somewhere more private.

Jon sucked over the soft skin just below her jaw and circled her clit with the flat of his fingers, her legs about as strong as jelly, head pressing into the seat and back arching into his touch. Jon growled at how reactive she was, his lips and tongue leaving a tinging trail down to her chest, not stopping until he pulled a nipple into his mouth and made her a wiggling mess beneath him.

His fingers added a little more pressure, gathering more of her up and ticking up his pace. Dany's mouth was dry from how harshly her lungs were begging for air, stomach sucked in and muscles going taut with the stimulation.

When he plunged a finger into her heat, she gasped sharply, and he paused all movement. "You alright?" He asked sweetly, pecking the corner of her mouth.

Dany nodded frantically, lifting her hips to get him to move again. "I'm...I'm not gonna last much longer," she practically squeaked.

A devilish smirk took over his face. "I'd better get to work then," he declared, then made her pout as he lifted to his knees and stretched himself between the front seats, searching.

It didn't take long for it to click. "I'm on birth control," she told him, and she snorted at his visible relief.

He resumed his position and his head rolled back. "Thank the gods. Pretty sure they don't equip new cars with condoms and mine are all at the house."

Dany giggled and grabbed for him, wanting him closer. "Wait, this is a new car?" Now that she actually thought about it, it did have that lingering 'new car smell', but she'd been so preoccupied with his distinct scent and getting him naked that she didn't notice at first.

"Aye," he responded, nipping her neck, "everyone says cars are the worst investment, but…,” he laved his tongue over one of her nipples and made her groan, “I beg to differ."

Dany smiled with a hum and smoothed her foot over his leg, too pleased and distracted by his attentions to think of a witty retort. Instead, she responded by canting her hips and grinding over his cock, his forehead dropping between her breasts, his curly head lifting to see her out. He took himself in hand and pumped a few times before lining up, and drove home in one slide, making stars burst between her eyes and a cry out into the night air.

Jon’s face distorted with a muffled grunt, giving them both time to adjust. He blew out a few long breaths, but she was too needy and languidly rolled her hips, stretching her arms as far down as she could and filling each hand with his marble-soft cheeks, gently encouraging him to move. She was out of her mind delirious as he set a pace that had them each panting and sweating, the mechanics of his ass under the grip of her hands and the slight burn of his cock pumping from root to tip and filling her entirely.

His responding, wolfish grunt and groans spurred her on, and she could tell he was trying to be gallant and hold back, but by the way his muscles were tensed and his movements became erratic, plus the twisting of his beautiful face, he was ready to let go and she was ready to fall with him.

Dany tilted her hips so that he was grinding over her clit, which sent her in a restless frenzy below him, whimpering and moaning and squirming with the build. "Fuck," he breathed, eyes fixed on hers, his teeth clenching and jaw muscle flexing. Dany lifted her hand above her head and braced it against the door, the other carding through his hair. She gave a soft tug to his damp locks which he seemed to enjoy, if the way his hips were snapping against her was any indication.

“Jon…,” Dany warned, he throat constricting against any more words she thought to utter, but it was enough for him to understand, the corded lines of muscle prevalent in his arms as he steadied himself and ground into her, and she broke in fragmented gasps and pleas of his name, a second wave overwhelming her already tender body as he leapt right after her.

His head fell against her shoulder with throaty grunts and groans, thrusting and then stilling as he spent inside of her. It was music to her ears. Her arms weakly found him, securing themselves over his back and easing his tired body down onto hers. He went without protest, carrying the brunt of his weight on one knee so he didn’t entirely crush her,

Part of her foggy mind wished they'd waited the extra ten minutes and taken this back to one of their houses so they could sleep right then, but the other parts of it were too thrilled by the idea of just going for it. "How am I to get through the work day without wanting to lock you up in my office?” Dany mumbled against his shoulder, pressing a kiss thereafter.

A groggy huff left him, the warmth of his breath tickling up her neck. After a moment and finally evening his breaths, he lifted his head, several damp strands of springy black curls falling over his face. “I know of a few less populated conference rooms with far less windows that we could sneak off to,” he smirked, her hands lifting to smooth away some of his hair so she could get a better look at him. Then, his expression morphed into one of mock sternness. “To go over our presentations without interruptions, I mean.”

With one brow arched and a sleepy giggle, she asked, “and how long have you been dreaming of using said rooms for these particular “work” activities?”

Jon sucked air through his teeth. “Longer than I’d ever admit,” he confessed.

“Sounds like I ought to report you for indecent thoughts,” Dany muttered, her head rising to kiss him softly.

He sighed against her and thumbed away some hairs at her temple, speaking against her lips when he needed air. “S’pose we ought to get out of here before someone finds us and we get reported for public indecency.”

Dany nodded, a tiny motion, pecking his still-swollen lips. “Okay,” she whispered. He pulled out of her with a wince and when he sat up, she bit her lip, getting a fuller view of him. Or, as much as she could in the slightly cramped backseat of his car. He was too much to resist, and she was quickly snatching his shirt out of his hands before he could pull it on over his head. “Wait,” she said, straddling his lap and easing his frown as his hands slid up her ribs. She braced her hands on his shoulders, smiling devilishly while his pupils grew dark and fat with want. “Let’s do it again.”

#jonerys #jonerys fanfic #jonerys quote drabble unquote #to the other anon that sent me two prompts i promise i also didn't forget you #working on that one next!#my drabbles

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dutchdread · 3 years

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In regard to what you said about how what Squall and Rinoa had wasn't necessarily true love because of them being teenagers, why is it that you even consider that Cloud and Tifa had true love when Cloud is technically a teenager too? Why do you say that you wouldn't like Aerith if she had survived and ended up with Cloud? You act as if Aerith ending up with Cloud is a bad thing. If Aerith survives things could've ended up happening differently for Cloud. He could've ended up happier with her.

To answer this question I think it's important to understand the difference between love and lust, I advise reading an earlier article I wrote about this:

"what is love, baby don't hurt me" There are a couple of things to address here. First, I am not sure I ever said that what Tifa and Cloud had at the end of FFVII was "true love". It's something that I think is up for debate, the fact that they haven't spent a lot of time together yet as actual adults makes me sympathetic to the idea that it's not really that far yet. Personally I find that they satisfy the conditions necessary for it to count as love, but you won't hear me pretend it's already at the same level as the love shared between my parents, who've been together for 40 years. Even in love there are degrees, love can always grow stronger, and I have no doubt that in case of Cloud and Tifa, it would. I am not pretending they start out as the ultimate pinnacle of perfect or true love. One of the most telling differences I think between people who support Cloti, and the people who support Clerith, is that the former are simply more in touch with reality. That having been said, like I mentioned earlier, I do think Tifa and Cloud satisfy the conditions of love that I describe in my article, I'll quickly go over why, but before I do, I think it's important to answer your first question first. "If being teenagers precludes Rinoa and Squall from having true love, why doesn't that same logic apply to Tifa and Cloud?" Well, the short answer is that being a teenager does NOT preclude you from loving someone, and I didn't say that it does. My argument is a bit more subtle than that. It's not that teenagers can't feel love, it's that it's very easy for teenagers to mistake infatuation with love. It's important here to distinguish between two different emotions, no one doubts of course that teenagers love, for instance, their parents, but we both understand that that's not exactly what is meant by love in the romantic sense. We also all know that we can be nervous around a boy or a girl that we barely know, and feel physically attracted to them. However, I think that everyone whose ever had more than one relationship in their life knows that that isn't love, it's merely attraction and a physiological response. It doesn't involve the same deep appreciation and closeness of a person that we associate with love. For me personally, the first girlfriend I ever had was someone I actually rather disliked before they suddenly confessed that they were attracted to me. When we were sitting on her couch a while later with her pressed against my arm my heart was beating out of my chest, I was more nervous than I ever had been before in my life and was borderline hyperventilating. But that had nothing to do with her, and all to do with me being a young boy who was about to make out with a cute girl. But that nervousness isn't love, I didn't love that girl, honestly, even while dating her I still didn't even like her that much as a person, and that "nervousness" quickly faded. My heart beating out of my chest...was not love, conversely, when I am with the person I actually do love, my heart is completely at peace. True romantic love I think lies at the intersection of those two emotions, where you long to be with someone physically, not because your heart is beating too fast, but because they're the physical representation of the complete and complex set of characteristics that make up that person. A state where you understand both yourself, and them, and understand that through everything you have become a part of each other. You would not be yourself if they're not there, because a part of you would be missing. The problem with teenagers in love isn't that they can't form the feelings of such a bond, but that they too often think that's what they're feeling when all it is is raging hormones. They think they can never live without each other but they'll have a new sweetheart 2 months later, because it's the nervousness, the beating chest, the excitement, and not the long deep appreciation of who the other person is and what they actually mean to you. They just feel new strong urges and emotions and ascribe meaning to them

when there barely is any. They lack the mutual understanding that sharing time together creates and which is necessary to understand who the other really is, and what that means. They lack the knowledge of the self needed to understand what is important in life and more importantly, what is, or should be, important to YOU and why. They lack the life experience needed to differentiate between love and infatuation, and they lack the wisdom needed make positive choices concerning which feelings to nurture, which often makes them subservient to their emotions rather than guiding them. Love takes time, it takes commitment, it takes understanding, it takes choices and the willingness to sacrifice, those are the things that bind two people together, through thick and thin, as they say. The good, and the bad. In a way, Cloud and Tifa perfectly represent that long slowly developing strength of mutual importance, while Aerith is more like a representation of the temporary hurricane of affection that we often ascribe with something new. This is the reason why Aerith was described by the developers as being like an exchange student who leaves midway through the schoolyear. This is the reason why Cloti is so often described as a "slow burn". The reason Cloud and Tifa are slightly exempt from the "teenagers in love" problem, although it does still factor in, is that their bond didn't start a week before the end of the game. Their bond started when they were kids. Tifa has been an integral part of Clouds life for his entire life, to the point where he decided to join SOLDIER, aka, the army, just in the hopes of getting Tifa to notice him. That is a decision, that is a commitment, that is Cloud tying Tifa into his sense of self ever since he was a boy, he didn't just sit around "wanting" her, he made a decision, to not just "desire her" or be "in love" with her, but an active decision to live his life with her as a central part of it. Those sorts of decisions and action form what you care about and value, what you deem as important, what you see as "you" and your life. Cloud had a type of love for Tifa long before he ever started developing any sexual urges. And Tifa doesn't just fit what he sees as important, he has made her important his entire life. In a way, he's molded himself over time so that the things he treasures, are the things she exhibits. More than that, the entire premise of Clouds character arc is rooted in him finding his true self. I mentioned earlier that a crucial part of love is knowing who you are, and what you treasure and why, and FFVII literally gives us a direct manifestation of Cloud finding himself in the lifestream.....and it's Tifa. There is no question here of whether Cloud knows who he is, what he treasures in a woman, and whether Tifa fits that mold, because Tifa made that mold. Concerning time, Cloud spent over a decade being in love with Tifa, she's not just a part of who he is, but she's such a part of who he is that when he lost her belief in him, he lost faith in himself and who he is. There is no question that these two characters lives are fundamentally emotionally intermingled. Cloud would not be Cloud without Tifa. And the same goes for Tifa, who has always held the image of Cloud close as a sort of representation of what is important. First like an unattainable star in the sky, then as a boy. Cloud is not just someone who has always been important to her, he's also her last link to her childhood, those things form bonds. Tifa is compassionate, and I've always been able to pinpoint the moment where in my opinion Tifa went from having a crush, to displaying true love, and its' the moment where she decides to spend that last days of her life caring for Cloud in a coma. That is not a small decision, and those decisions matter, they're not just telling the world something, they're telling YOURSELF something. When you make such a decision, you cement what is important to you. Through thick and thin. Tifa chose Cloud, she chose to believe in the memories they share together, not of the

memories of the last few weeks, but of the boy who asked her to the water tower all those years ago. Tifa, like Cloud, found herself during FFVII, Tifa knew what she cherished, it wasn't soldier Cloud, it was the Cloud she knew, the REAL Cloud, and her selflessness and conviction is rewarded.

I'd say that pretty much says it all, the groundwork is in place, the only thing needed after that is for a person to CHOOSE to go for it, to not give up, and that's what we get in the events before, during, and after ACC. That the two are willing to sacrifice and work on it, because they know that the other is worth it. And Tifa and Cloud have that as well. When Tifa is feeling down in case of Tifa, Cloud says he'll be there for her, when Cloud is having difficulties in ACC, Tifa never gives up on him. Ultimately Tifa is the glue of this relationship, because she has proven that she will never give up, and that's why her love is real, and why Cloud and Tifa ultimately will succeed as a couple. Cloud and Tifa have a difficult start to their relationship because of factors external to their feelings towards each other, but when you purely look at the basis of their relationship and feelings for each other, it's one of the strongest foundations in fiction. They have to weather a lot of storms together, but the reason the story can throw those storms at them, is that they have the foundation that allows them to handle it and grow stronger. "Why do you say that you wouldn't like Aerith if she had survived and ended up with Cloud?" I don't say that, I say that I don't like the Aerith version that exists in the minds of Clerith, and I don't. What I say specifically about Aerith surviving and ending up with Cloud is that I don't like that story, I think it would be a fundamentally bad story. I do say that I would not like Aerith if she knew the future, or anything really about the relationship between Tifa and Cloud, and still chose to try and get between that. Because setting aside all the shameless "Cloud/Tifa doesn't own Tifa/Cloud, they can do what they want" arguments, we all know that if your friend has someone they've cared about for a long time, and they're hitting in off, and you then try to get between that....you're scum, and I do not want you in my group of friends. I've known people like that, they're not kind. I also say that I wouldn't like that character, which is different from not liking Aerith as a person. A person can be sweet and likable and I can still not like their character if I think that the character is a hindrance to the story. "If Aerith survives things could've ended up happening differently for Cloud. He could've ended up happier with her." And if pigs had wings perhaps they could fly, or perhaps they couldn't. Perhaps had Aerith lived Cloud would have somehow married Scarlet, or perhaps if Aerith had lived Cloud would have been miserable and drank himself to death. I don't care about baseless speculation. Listen, I have no doubt that if Aerith had lived, Cloud would be happier, since it would be one less death on his consciousness, but he'd be happier WITH TIFA, Aerith living or dying has zero impact on who he ends up with and saying "maybe" is absolutely meaningless. Maybe if Aerith had lived, Tifa would have died, and the world would have ended because I don't need to be a fortune teller to predict that if Tifa died, Cloud wouldn't have come back from that. Honestly, saying "perhaps if Aerith had lived he'd be happier with her" is such a blatant attempt at trying to sneak shit past the radar that it honestly bugs me, you can take that implication back to the Clerith boards where dishonest takes live.

#Cloti #FFVII #ffvii remake #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough

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iamshwee · 3 years

Text

SHADOW WORK: The Ultimate Guide

I. Why Focusing Only on the Light is a Form of Escapism

For most of my life, I’ve grown up firmly believing that the only thing worthy of guiding me was “light” and “love.” Whether through the family environment I was raised in, or the cultural myths I was brought up clinging to, I once believed that all you really needed to do in life to be happy was to focus on everything beautiful, positive and spiritually “righteous.” I’m sure you were raised believing a similar story as well. It’s a sort of “Recipe for Well-Being.”

But a few years ago, after battling ongoing mental health issues, I realized something shocking:

I was wrong.

Not just wrong, but completely and utterly off the mark. Focusing only on “love and light” will not heal your wounds on a deep level. In fact, I’ve learned through a lot of heavy inner work, that not only is focusing solely on “holiness” in life one side of the equation, but it is actually a form of spiritually bypassing your deeper, darker problems that, let me assure you, almost definitely exist.

It is very easy and comfortable to focus only on the light side of life. So many people in today’s world follow this path. And while it might provide some temporary emotional support, it doesn’t reach to the depths of your being: it doesn’t transform you at a core level. Instead, it leaves you superficially hanging onto warm and fuzzy platitudes which sound nice, but don’t enact any real change.

What DOES touch the very depths of your being, however, is exploring your Shadow.

II. What is the Human Shadow?

In short, the human shadow is our dark side; our lost and forgotten disowned self.

Your shadow is the place within you that contains all of your secrets, repressed feelings, primitive impulses, and parts deemed “unacceptable,” shameful, “sinful” or even “evil.”

This dark place lurking within your unconscious mind also contains suppressed and rejected emotions such as rage, jealousy, hatred, greed, deceitfulness, and selfishness.

So where did the Shadow Self idea originate? The concept was originally coined and explored by Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, Carl Jung. In Jung’s own words:

“Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.”

When the human Shadow is shunned, it tends to undermine and sabotage our lives. Addictions, low self-esteem, mental illness, chronic illnesses, and various neuroses are all attributed to the Shadow Self. When our Shadows are suppressed or repressed in the unconscious long enough, they can even overtake our entire lives and causes psychosis or extreme forms of behavior like cheating on one’s partner or physically harming others. Intoxicants such as alcohol and drugs also have a tendency to unleash the Shadow.

Thankfully, there is a way to explore the Shadow and prevent it from devouring our existence, and that is called Shadow Work.

III. What is Shadow Work?

Shadow work is the process of exploring your inner darkness or “Shadow Self.” As mentioned previously, your Shadow Self is part of your unconscious mind and contains everything you feel ashamed of thinking and feeling, as well as every impulse, repressed idea, desire, fear, and perversion that for one reason or another, you have “locked away” consciously or unconsciously. Often this is done as a way of keeping yourself tame, likable, and “civilized” in the eyes of others.

Shadow work is the attempt to uncover everything that we have hidden and every part of us that has been disowned and rejected within our Shadow Selves.

Why? Because without revealing to ourselves what we have hidden, we remain burdened with problems such as anger, guilt, shame, disgust, and grief.

All throughout the history of mankind Shadow Work has played a powerful yet mysterious and occult role in helping us discover what is causing us mental illness, physical dis-ease and even insanity resulting in crimes of all kinds.

Traditionally, Shadow Work fell in the realm of the Shamans, or medicine people, as well as the priests and priestesses of the archaic periods of history. These days, Shadow Work falls more commonly in the realms of psychotherapy, with psychologists, psychiatrists, spiritual guides, and therapists.

IV. Do We All Have a Shadow Self?

Yes, we ALL have a Shadow Self.

As uncomfortable as it may sound, there is a dark side within every human being. Why is this the case? The reason why all human beings have a shadow is due to the way we were raised as human beings, often referred to as our ‘conditioning.’

“But I’m a good person! I don’t have a ‘shadow’ side,” you might be thinking. Well, the reality is that yes, you might be a good person. In fact, you might be the most generous, loving, and selfless person in the entire world. You might feed the hungry, save puppies, and donate half of your salary to the poor. But that doesn’t exclude you from having a Shadow.

There are no exceptions here.

The nature of being human is to possess both a light and a dark side, and we need to embrace that.

Sometimes, when people hear that they have a Shadow side (or when it is pointed out), there is a lot of denial. We have been taught to perceive ourselves in a very two-dimensional and limited way. We have been taught that only criminals, murderers, and thieves have a Shadow side.

This black and white thinking is one of the major causes of our suffering.

If the thought of having a Shadow side disturbs you, take a moment to consider whether you have developed an idealized self.

Signs of an idealized self include attitudes such as:

· “I’m not like those people, I’m better.”

· “I have never strayed.”

· “God is proud of me.”

· “Criminals and wrongdoers aren’t human.”

· “Everyone sees how good I am (even so, I have to remind them).”

· “I’m a role model.”

· “I should be validated and applauded for my good deeds.”

· “I don’t have bad thoughts, so why do others?”

Such perceptions about oneself are unrealistic, unhealthy, and largely delusional. The only way to find inner peace, happiness, authentic love, self-fulfillment, and Illumination is to explore our Shadow.

V. How is Our Shadow Side Formed?

Your Shadow side is formed in childhood and is both (a) a product of natural ego development, and (b) a product of conditioning or socialization. Socialization is the process of learning to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

When we are born, we are are all full of potential, with the ability to survive and develop in a variety of ways. As time goes on, we learn more and more to become a certain type of person. Slowly, due to our circumstances and preferences, we begin to adopt certain character traits and reject others. For example, if we are born into a family that shows little interpersonal warmth, we will develop personality traits that make us self-sufficient and perhaps standoffish or mind-oriented. If we are born into a family that rewards compliance and shuns rebellion, we will learn that being submissive works, and thus adopt that as part of our ego structure.

As authors and Jungian therapists, Steve Price and David Haynes write:

“But, as we develop our ego-personality, we also do something else at the same time. What has happened to all those parts of our original potential that we didn’t develop? They won’t just cease to exist: they will still be there, as potential or as partly developed, then rejected, personality attributes, and they will live on in the unconscious as an alternative to the waking ego. So, by the very act of creating a specifically delineated ego-personality, we have also created its opposite in the unconscious. This is the shadow. Everyone has one.”

As we can see, developing the Shadow Self is a natural part of development.

But you also formed an alter ego due to social conditioning, i.e. your parents, family members, teachers, friends, and society at large all contributed to your Shadow.

How?

Well here’s the thing: polite society operates under certain rules. In other words, certain behaviors and characteristics are approved of, while others are shunned. Take anger for example. Anger is an emotion that is commonly punished while growing up. Throwing tantrums, swearing, and destroying things was frowned upon by our parents and teachers. Therefore, many of us learned that expressing anger was not “OK.” Instead of being taught healthy ways to express our anger, we were punished sometimes physically (with smacks or being grounded), and often emotionally (withdrawal of love and affection).

There are countless behaviors, emotions, and beliefs that are rejected in society, and thus, are rejected by ourselves. In order to fit in, be accepted, approved, and loved, we learned to act a certain way. We adopted a role that would ensure our mental, emotional, and physical survival. But at the same time, wearing a mask has consequences. What happened to all the authentic, wild, socially taboo, or challenging parts of ourselves? They were trapped in the Shadow.

What happens as we grow up?

Through time, we learn to both enjoy, and despise, our socially-approved egos because, on the one hand, they make us feel good and “lovable,” but on the other hand, they feel phony and inhibited.

Therapist Steve Wolf has a perfect analogy that describes this process:

“Each of us is like Dorian Gray. We seek to present a beautiful, innocent face to the world; a kind, courteous demeanor; a youthful, intelligent image. And so, unknowingly but inevitably, we push away those qualities that do not fit the image, that does not enhance our self-esteem and make us stand proud but, instead, bring us shame and make us feel small. We shove into the dark cavern of the unconscious those feelings that make us uneasy — hatred, rage, jealousy, greed, competition, lust, shame — and those behaviors that are deemed wrong by the culture — addiction, laziness, aggression, dependency — thereby creating what could be called shadow content. Like Dorian’s painting, these qualities ultimately take on a life of their own, forming an invisible twin that lives just behind our life, or just beside it …”

But while the Shadow Self may be portrayed as our “evil twin,” it is not entirely full of “bad” stuff. There is actually gold to be found within the Shadow.

VI. What is the Golden Shadow?

Jung once states that “the shadow is ninety percent pure gold.” What this means is that there are many beautiful gifts offered to us by our Shadow side if we take the time to look. For example, so much of our creative potential is submerged within our darkness because we were taught when little to reject it.

Not everything within our Shadow is doom and gloom. In fact, the Shadow contains some of our most powerful gifts and talents, such as our artistic, sexual, competitive, innovative, and even intuitive aptitudes.

The ‘Golden Shadow’ also presents us with the opportunity for tremendous psychological and spiritual growth. By doing Shadow Work, we learn that every single emotion and wound that we possess has a gift to share with us. Even the most obnoxious, “ugly,” or shameful parts of ourselves provide a path back to Oneness. Such is the power of the Shadow – it is both a terrifying journey, but is ultimately a path to Enlightenment or Illumination. Every spiritual path needs Shadow Work to prevent the issues from happening that we’ll explore next.

VII. What Happens When You Reject Your Shadow?

When shadow-work is neglected, the soul feels dry, brittle, like an empty vessel. — S. Wolf

Rejecting, suppressing, denying, or disowning your Shadow, whether consciously or unconsciously, is a dangerous thing. The thing about the Shadow Self is that it seeks to be known. It yearns to be understood, explored, and integrated. It craves to be held in awareness. The longer the Shadow stays buried and locked in its jail cell deep within the unconscious, the more it will find opportunities to make you aware of its existence.

Both religion and modern spirituality tend to focus on the “love and light” aspects of spiritual growth to their own doom.

This over-emphasis on the fluffy, transcendental, and feel-good elements of a spiritual awakening results in shallowness and phobia of whatever is too real, earthy, or dark.

Spiritually bypassing one’s inner darkness results in a whole range of serious issues. Some of the most common and reoccurring Shadow issues that appear in the spiritual/religious community include pedophilia among priests, financial manipulation of followers among gurus, and of course, megalomania, narcissism, and God complexes among spiritual teachers.

Other issues that arise when we reject our Shadow side can include:

· Hypocrisy (believing and supporting one thing, but doing the other)

· Lies and self-deceit (both towards oneself and others)

· Uncontrollable bursts of rage/anger

· Emotional and mental manipulation of others

· Greed and addictions

· Phobias and obsessive compulsions

· Racist, sexist, homophobic, and other offensive behavior

· Intense anxiety

· Chronic psychosomatic illness

· Depression (which can turn into suicidal tendencies)

· Sexual perversion

· Narcissistically inflated ego

· Chaotic relationships with others

· Self-loathing

· Self-absorption

· Self-sabotage

… and many others. This is by no means a comprehensive list (and there are likely many other issues out there). As we’ll learn next, one of the greatest ways we reject our Shadow is through psychological projection.

VIII. The Shadow and Projection (a Dangerous Mix)

One of the biggest forms of Shadow rejection is something called projection.

Projection is a term that refers to seeing things in others that are actually within ourselves.

When we pair projection and the Shadow Self together, we have a dangerous mix. Why? Because as psychotherapist Robert A. Johnson writes:

“We generally seek to punish that which reminds us most uncomfortable about the part of ourselves that we have not come to terms with, and we often ‘see’ these disowned qualities in the world around us.”

There are many different ways we ‘punish’ those who are mirrors of our Shadow qualities. We may criticize, reject, hate, dehumanize, or even in extreme cases, physically or psychologically seek to destroy them (think of countries who go at war with the “enemies”). None of us are innocent in this area. We have ALL projected parts of our rejected self onto others. In fact, Shadow projection is a major cause of relationship dysfunction and break down.

If we are seeking to bring peace, love, and meaning to our lives, we absolutely MUST reclaim these projections. Through Shadow Work, we can explore exactly what we have disowned.

IX. Twelve Benefits of Shadow Work

Firstly, I want to say that I have the highest respect for Shadow Work. It is the single most important path I’ve taken to uncover my core wounds, core beliefs, traumas, and projections. I have also observed how Shadow Work has helped to create profound clarity, understanding, harmony, acceptance, release, and inner peace in the lives of others. It is truly deep work that makes changes on the Soul level targeting the very roots of our issues, not just the superficial symptoms.

There is SO much to be gained from making Shadow Work a part of your life, and daily routine. Here are some of the most commonly experienced benefits:

1. Deeper love and acceptance of yourself

2. Better relationships with others, including your partner and children

3. More confidence to be your authentic self

4. More mental, emotional, and spiritual clarity

5. Increased compassion/understanding for others = who you dislike

6. Enhanced creativity

7. Discovery of hidden gifts and talents

8. Deepened understanding of your passions and ultimate life purpose

9. Improved physical and mental health

10. More courage to face the unknown and truly live life

11. Access to your Soul or Higher Self

12. A feeling of Wholeness

It’s important to remember that there are no quick fixes in Shadow Work, so these life-changing benefits don’t just happen overnight. But with persistence, they will eventually emerge and bless your life.

X. Seven Tips for Approaching Shadow Work

Before you begin Shadow Work, you need to assess whether you’re ready to embark on this journey. Not everyone is prepared for this deep work, and that’s fine. We’re all at different stages. So pay attention to the following questions and try to answer them honestly:

· Have you practiced self-love yet?

o If not, Shadow Work will be too overwhelming for you. I have starred this bullet point because it is essential for you to consider. Shadow Work should not be attempted by those who have poor self-worth or struggle with self-loathing. In other words: if you struggle with severely low self-esteem, please do not attempt Shadow Work. I emphatically warn you against doing it. Why? If you struggle with extremely poor self-worth, exploring your Shadow will likely make you feel ten times worse about yourself. Before you walk this path, you absolutely must establish a strong and healthy self-image. No, you don’t have to think you’re God’s gift to the world, but having average self-worth is important. Try taking this self-esteem test to explore whether you’re ready (but first, don’t forget to finish this article!).

· �� Are you prepared to make time?

o Shadow Work is not a lukewarm practice. You are either all in or all out. Yes, it is important to take a break from it from time to time. But Shadow Work requires dedication, self-discipline, and persistence. Are you willing to intentionally carve out time each day to dedicate to it? Even just ten minutes a day is a good start.

· Are you looking to be validated or to find the truth?

o As you probably know by now, Shadow Work isn’t about making you feel special. It isn’t like typical spiritual paths that are focused on the feel-good. No, Shadow Work can be brutal and extremely confronting. This is a path for truth seekers, not those who are seeking to be validated.

· Seek to enter a calm and neutral space.

o It is important to try and relax when doing Shadow Work. Stress and judgmental or critical attitudes will inhibit the process. So please try to incorporate a calming meditation or mindfulness technique into whatever you do.

· Understand that you are not your thoughts.

o You need to realize that you are not your thoughts for Shadow Work to be healing and liberating. Only from your calm and quiet Center (also known as your Soul) can you truly be aware of your Shadow aspects. By holding them in awareness, you will see them clearly for what they are, and realize that they ultimately don’t define you; they are simply rising and falling mental phenomena.

· Practice self-compassion.

o It is of paramount importance to incorporate compassion and self-acceptance into your Shadow Work practice. Without showing love and understanding to yourself, it is easy for Shadow Work to backfire and make you feel terrible. So focus on generating self-love and compassion, and you will be able to release any shame and embrace your humanity.

· Record everything you find.

o Keep a written journal or personal diary in which you write down, or draw, your discoveries. Recording your dreams, observations, and analysis will help you to learn and grow more effectively. You’ll also be able to keep track of your process and make important connections.

XI. How to Practice Shadow Work

There are many Shadow Work techniques and exercises out there. In this guide, I will provide a few to help you start off. I’ll also share a few examples from my own life:

1. Pay attention to your emotional reactions

In this practice, you’ll learn that what you give power to has power over you. Let me explain:

One Shadow Work practice I enjoy a great deal is paying attention to everything that shocks, disturbs, and secretly thrills me. Essentially, this practice is about finding out what I’ve given the power to in my life unconsciously, because: what we place importance in – whether good or bad – says a lot about us.

The reality is that what we react to, or what makes us angry and distressed, reveals extremely important information to us about ourselves.

For example, by following where my “demons” have taken me – whether in social media, family circles, workspaces, and public places – I have discovered two important things about myself. The first one is that I’m a control freak; I hate feeling vulnerable, powerless and weak . . . it quite simply scares the living hell out of me. How did I discover this? Through my intense dislike of witnessing rape scenes in movies and TV shows, my negative reaction to novel experiences (e.g. roller coaster rides, public speaking, etc.), as well as my discomfort surrounding sharing information about my life with others in conversations. Also, by following where my “demons” have guided me I’ve discovered that I’m being burdened by an exasperating guilt complex that I developed through my religious upbringing. Apart of me wants to feel unworthy because that is what I’ve developed a habit of feeling since childhood (e.g. “You’re a sinner,” “It’s your fault Jesus was crucified”), and therefore, that is what I secretly feel comfortable with feeling: unworthy. So my mind nit-picks anything I might have done “wrong,” and I’m left with the feeling of being “bad” – which I’m used to, but nevertheless, this is destructive for my well-being.

Thanks to this practice, I have welcomed more compassion, mindfulness, and forgiveness into my life.

Paying attention to your emotional reactions can help you to discover exactly how your core wounds are affecting you on a daily basis.

How to Pay Attention to Your Emotional Reactions

To effectively pay attention to your emotional reactions (I call it “following the trail of your inner demons”), you first need to cultivate:

1. Self-awareness

Without being conscious of what you’re doing, thinking, feeling, and saying, you won’t progress very far.

If, however, you are fairly certain that you’re self-aware (or enough to start the process), you will then need to:

2. Adopt an open mindset

You will need to have the courage and willingness to observe EVERYTHING uncomfortable you place importance in, and ask “why?” What do I mean by the phrase “placing importance in”? By this, I mean that, whatever riles, shocks, infuriates, disturbs and terrifies you, you must pay attention to. Closely.

Likely, you will discover patterns constantly emerging in your life. For example, you might be outraged or embarrassed every time sex appears in a TV show or movie you like (possibly revealing sexual repression or mistaken beliefs about sex that you’ve adopted throughout life). Or you might be terrified of seeing death or dead people (possibly revealing your resistance to the nature of life or childhood trauma). Or you might be disgusted by alternative political, sexual, and spiritual lifestyles (possibly revealing your hidden desire to do the same).

There are so many possibilities out there, and I encourage you to go slowly, take your time, and one by one pick through what you place importance in.

“But I DON’T place importance in gross, bad or disturbing things in life, how could I? I don’t care for them!” you might be asking.

Well, think for a moment. If you didn’t place so much importance on what makes you angry, disgusted or upset . . . why would you be reacting to it so much? The moment you emotionally react to something is the moment you have given that thing power over you. Only that which doesn’t stir up emotions in us is not important to us.

See what you respond to and listen to what your Shadow is trying to teach you.

2. Artistically Express Your Shadow Self

Art is the highest form of self-expression and is also a great way to allow your Shadow to manifest itself. Psychologists often use art therapy as a way to help patients explore their inner selves.

Start by allowing yourself to feel (or drawing on any existing) dark emotions. Choose an art medium that calls to you such as pen and pencil, watercolor, crayon, acrylic paint, scrapbooking, sculpting, etc. and draw what you feel. You don’t need to consider yourself an ‘artist’ to benefit from this activity. You don’t even need to plan what you’ll create. Just let your hands, pen, pencil, or paintbrush do the talking. The more spontaneous, the better. Artistic expression can reveal a lot about your obscure darker half. Psychologist Carl Jung (who conceptualized the Shadow Self idea) was even famous for using mandalas in his therapy sessions.

3. Start a Project

The act of creation can be intensely frustrating and can give birth to some of your darker elements such as impatience, anger, blood-thirsty competitiveness, and self-doubt. At the same time, starting a project also allows you to experience feelings of fulfillment and joy.

If you don’t already have a personal project that you’re undertaking (such as building something, writing a book, composing music, mastering a new skill), find something you would love to start doing. Using self-awareness and self-exploration during the process of creation, you will be able to reap deeper insights into your darkness. Ask yourself constantly, “What am I feeling and why?” Notice the strong emotions that arise during the act of creation, both good and bad. You will likely be surprised by what you find!

For example, as a person who considers myself non-competitive, that assumption has been challenged by the act of writing this blog. Thanks to this project, the Shadow within me of ruthless competitiveness has shown its face, allowing me to understand myself more deeply.

4. Write a Story or Keep a Shadow Journal

Goethe’s story Faust is, in my opinion, one of the best works featuring the meeting of an ego and his Shadow Self. His story details the life of a Professor who becomes so separated and overwhelmed by his Shadow that he comes to the verge of suicide, only to realize that the redemption of the ego is solely possible if the Shadow is redeemed at the same time.

Write a story where you project your Shadow elements onto the characters – this is a great way to learn more about your inner darkness. If stories aren’t your thing, keeping a journal or diary every day can shine a light on the darker elements of your nature. Reading through your dark thoughts and emotions can help you to recover the balance you need in life by accepting both light and dark emotions within you.

5. Explore Your Shadow Archetypes

We have several Shadow varieties, also called Shadow Archetypes. These archetypes are sometimes defined as:

· The Sorcerer/Alchemist

· The Dictator

· The Victim

· The Shadow Witch

· The Addict

· The Idiot

· The Trickster

· The Destroyer

· The Slave

· The Shadow Mother

· The Hag

· The Hermit

However, I have my own Shadow Archetype classification, which I will include below.

13 Shadow Archetypes

Here are my thirteen classifications which are based on my own self-observations and analysis of others:

1. The Egotistical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: arrogance, egocentricity, pompousness, inconsiderateness, self-indulgence, narcissism, excessive pride.

2. The Neurotic Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: paranoia, obsessiveness, suspiciousness, finicky, demanding, compulsive behavior.

3. The Untrustworthy Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: secretive, impulsive, frivolous, irresponsible, deceitful, unreliable.

4. The Emotionally Unstable Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: moody, melodramatic, weepy, overemotional, impulsive, changeable.

5. The Controlling Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: suspicious, jealous, possessive, bossy, obsessive.

6. The Cynical Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: negative, overcritical, patronizing, resentful, cantankerous.

7. The Wrathful Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: ruthless, vengeful, bitchy, quick-tempered, quarrelsome.

8. The Rigid Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: uptight, intolerant, racist, sexist, ableist, homophobic, obstinate, uncompromising, inflexible, narrow-minded.

9. The Glib Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: superficial, cunning, inconsistent, sly, crafty.

10. The Cold Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: emotionally detached, distant, indifferent, uncaring, unexcited.

11. The Perverted Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: masochistic, lewd, sadistic, vulgar, libidinous.

12. The Cowardly Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: weak-willed, passive, timid, fearful.

13. The Immature Shadow

This Shadow Archetype displays the following characteristics: puerile, childish, illogical, simpleminded, vacuous.

Keep in mind that the above Shadow Archetypes are by no means exhaustive. I’m sure that there are many others out there which I have missed. But you are free to use this breakdown to help you explore your own Shadows. You’re also welcome to add to this list or create your own Shadow Archetypes, which I highly encourage. For example, you might possess a judgmental and dogmatic Shadow who you call “The Nun,” or a sexually deviant Shadow who you call “The Deviant.” Play around with some words and labels, and see what suits your Shadows the best.

6. Have an Inner Conversation

Also known as “Inner Dialogue,” or as Carl Jung phrased it, “Active Imagination,” having a conversation with your Shadow is an easy way to learn from it.

I understand if you might feel a twinge of skepticism towards this practice right now. After all, we are taught that “only crazy people talk to themselves.” But inner dialogue is regularly used in psychotherapy as a way to help people communicate with the various subpersonalities that they have – and we all possess various faces and sides of our ego.

One easy way to practice inner dialogue is to sit in a quiet place, close your eyes, and tune into the present moment. Then, think of a question you would like to ask your Shadow, and silently speak it within your mind. Wait a few moments and see if you ‘hear’ or ‘see’ an answer. Record anything that arises and reflect on it. It is even possible to carry on a conversation with your Shadow using this method. Just ensure that you have an open mindset. In other words, don’t try to control what is being said, just let it flow naturally. You will likely be surprised by the answers you receive!

Visualization is another helpful way of engaging in inner dialogue. I recommend bringing to mind images of dark forests, caves, holes in the ground, or the ocean as these all represent the unconscious mind. Always ensure that you enter and exit your visualization in the same manner, e.g. if you are walking down a path, make sure you walk back up the path. Or if you open a particular door, make sure you open the same door when returning back to normal consciousness. This practice will help to draw you effortlessly in and out of visualizations.

7. Use the Mirror Technique

As we have learned, projection is a technique of the Shadow that helps us to avoid what we have disowned. However, we don’t only project the deeper and darker aspects of ourselves onto others, we also project our light and positive attributes as well. For example, a person may be attracted to another who displays fierce self-assertiveness, not realizing that this quality is what they long to reunite with inside themselves. Another common example (this time negative) is judgmentalism. How many times have you heard someone say “he/she is so judgmental!” Ironically, the very person saying this doesn’t realize that calling another person ‘judgmental’ is actually pronouncing a judgment against them and revealing their own judgmental nature.

The Mirror Technique is the process of uncovering our projections. To practice this technique, we must adopt a mindful and honest approach towards the world: we need to be prepared to own that which we have disowned! Being radically truthful with ourselves can be difficult, so it does require practice. But essentially, we must adopt the mindset that other people are our mirrors. We must understand that those around us serve as the perfect canvas onto which we project all of our unconscious desires and fears.

Start this practice by examining your thoughts and feelings about those you come in contact with. Pay attention to moments when you’re emotionally triggered and ask yourself “am I projecting anything?” Remember: it is also possible to project our own qualities onto another person who really does possess the qualities. Psychologists sometimes refer to this as “projecting onto reality.” For example, we might project our rage onto another person who is, in fact, a rage-filled person. Or we might project our jealousy onto another who genuinely is jealous.

Ask yourself, “What is mine, what is theirs, and what is both of ours?” Not every triggering situation reveals a projection, but they more than often do. Also, look for things you love and adore about others, and uncover the hidden projections there.

The Mirror Technique will help you to shed a lot of light onto Shadow qualities that you have rejected, suppressed, repressed, or disowned. On a side note, you might also like to read about a similar practice called mirror work which helps you to come face-to-face with your own denied aspects.

XII. Shadow Work Q&A

Here are some commonly asked questions about shadow work:

What is shadow work?

Shadow work is the psychological and spiritual practice of exploring our dark side or the ‘shadowy’ part of our nature. We all possess a place within us that contains our secrets, repressed feelings, shameful memories, impulses, and parts that are deemed “unacceptable” and “ugly.” This is our dark side or shadow self – and it is often symbolized as a monster, devil, or ferocious wild animal.

How to do shadow work?

There are many ways to practice shadow work. Some of the most powerful and effective techniques include journaling, artistically expressing your dark side (also known as art therapy), using a mirror to connect with this part of you (mirror work), guided meditations, exploring your projections, and examining your shadow archetypes.

What is the spiritual shadow?

There is light and darkness within all areas of life, and spirituality is not exempt. The spiritual shadow is what occurs when we fall into the traps of spiritual materialism – a phenomenon where we use spirituality to boost our egos and become arrogant, self-absorbed, and even narcissistic.

XIII. Shadow Self -Test

https://lonerwolf.com/shadow-self-test/

As passionate proponents of Shadow Work, we have created a free Shadow Self test on this website for you to take. Like any test, take it with a grain of salt and use your own analysis to ultimately determine how ‘dominant’ your Shadow is in your life. Please remember that tests online cannot be 100% accurate, so see it as a fun self-discovery tool. And note: those who receive a “small Shadow Self” answer still need to do Shadow Work. No person is exempt. ;)

XIV. Own Your Shadow and You Will Own Your Life

If you are looking for some serious, authentic and long-lived healing in your life, Shadow Work is the perfect way to experience profound inner transformation. Remember that what you internalize is almost always externalized in one form or another.

Own your shadow and you will own your life.

Here are some final inspiring words:

“The secret is out: all of us, no exceptions, have qualities we won’t let anyone see, including ourselves – our Shadow. If we face up to our dark side, our life can be energized. If not, there is the devil to pay. This is one of life’s most urgent projects. — Larry Dossey (Healing Words)”

“If we don’t change, we don’t grow. If we don’t grow, we are not really living. Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.” — Gail Sheehy

“Who has not at one time or another felt a sourness, wrath, selfishness, envy and pride, which he could not tell what to do with, or how to bear, rising up in him without his consent, casting a blackness over all his thoughts … It is exceeding good and beneficial to us to discover this dark, disordered fire of our soul; because when rightly known and rightly dealt with, it can as well be made the foundation of heaven as it is of hell. — William Law”

“To confront a person with his own shadow is to show him his own light. — Carl Jung”

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batarella · 3 years

Text

3 birds 1 stone - RED

Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

WORDS: 7791 WARNINGS: Sexual Content, Mentions of Trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

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“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

- Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

You:

“Y/N?”

On peaceful days should there be chaos to be expected. With peace does not come promise. A flower with blooming red petals would eventually wilt, despite all else telling it not to. That same blooming flower would die the same from other natural, unnatural causes, like a wind too strong for it to hold onto its stem or a butterfly that came too late for its pollen.

But when peace was current, something you could see right before you knowing it wasn’t to last, it wasn’t much because of the artist you were why you’d resort to capturing that peace onto your canvas and make it last forever.

Two artists, that was. Someone joined you in your endeavor that day. Not so much of a student as he were a companion. An equal, perhaps.

Damian didn’t let his squinting eyes from where he placed the tiniest round brush on, the fabric that turned blue at his touch. You merely hummed at his call of your name and didn’t look to him as well.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Two easels set up at the manor’s back porch angled just right for most of the city skyline to be seen. It was far too small to be the focus, but everything else, the valleys that surrounded it, the actual forests going against the concrete ones, if you managed to get it right, you might want to keep this one for yourself.

Your thoughts complete left all that matter, however, when Damian asked you, “It’s a question about sex. More than one actually.”

“Oh.”

Not what you thought.

You might have had a lymph node in your neck, but still you nodded.

“Alright then. What do you want to know?”

He was painting the clouds. Didn’t even look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Good, you guessed.

“How old am I supposed to be before having it?”

Some wordless mutter rolled out your tongue at that. Eventually, the answer just came right out of you.

“Other than being of age, it really depends if you’re emotionally ready for it, Damian. If you know you’re not ready, nothing should push you to do it.”

“How do I know when I’m ready?”

That same calmness, the one that steadied your often shaking hands, allowed you to create the perfect cone for one of the hilltops at the horizon. You marveled over it for a while.

“When your doubts are encompassed with everything else,” you said. “When you know about what comes after.”

A dimming yellow sun, over at the far end. It was that sun, you told yourself, that was making those words fall of your lips. And not at all this series of resurfacing memories.

“When you meet the right person,” you told him.

You saw from your side eye how that remark made Damian stop with his brush. He set it onto its holder, placed his hands on his knees. “Other people don’t wait for that last one,” he said. “Do they?”

“It’s always different for a lot of people. Sometimes, they could only ever do it with people they love. Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter.”

“When I have sex with someo-“

You gave him a dirty look.

“When I’m a lot older,” he scoffed. “And I want to engage in the act of coitus.”

“Coitus?”

“How do I know they’re right? They’re the right person at that moment, then suddenly the next, they’re not.”

You reached over his easel to grab his brush, handing it back as you pointed at a raven that landed on one of the trees. It urged him to continue.

“You ask yourself then. If things won’t go the way you’d have wanted with that someone, would you regret ever doing it with them at all?”

“Obviously,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”

A bright smile, just as you settled the green of the wilting grass. Not so much was it green as it were this brownish orange, with it still cold enough for you to wear a sweater this uncomfortable when you’d have wanted your hands free.

“Is it really this…” he did some kind of motion with his hands. “…milestone in your life that’s supposed to be so important?”

“Wow, you’re really asking the right questions here, kid.”

That nickname made him snarl, back to his canvas. It took you a while, having to look to the sky for some kind of answer that wasn’t going to mess his head for the rest of his life.

“I used to think it wasn’t,” you said. “Sometimes, it’s only as important as you make it. It’s all up to what you believe.”

You turned your brush over just the right circle, which made of the red petals of a rose on one of the bushes that first greeted the day after months of a long winter.

Then there was this sinking. Something within.

“But your first time, at least. It should be with someone you love,” you said. “You’ll find that a lot of things will be easier for you.”

He seemed satisfied with that. Thankfully. He didn’t look so traumatized just yet.

Then he asked you one that no longer was so easy to think about.

“Was your first time with someone you loved?”

And you thought, with how everything suddenly weighed, not just your head or your hands but the whirring air, the leaves that danced along to it, the flowers still so young into their bloom, the misty clouds, the light, the brush on your hand and the paint on its tip.

What wasn’t so heavy, that is, was your voice.

Because if anything surprised you that day, more than the questions and the apparent peace, was how easily the answer came out of you.

Easy, because it was true.

And it was true, because when you lied, your clammy hands would be stuck to your back, shaking just as much as your eyes would be frantic and searching for something that wasn’t there.

But your voice was as light as your hands were calm and dry, your eyes fixated on the beautiful sight of the city and nothing else.

“Yes,” you said. And with it, came a smile that lasted for days.

Jason:

Two thousand dollars sounded a lot more inviting after a failed drug raid, not so much after the seeing all the evening gowns and diamonds and Bruce using his almighty charm with investors in sharp-needled stilettoes.

He did not, for his own sanity’s sake, want to sit through any of it, not even for a whole inheritance from the enterprise. Nope. Not even ten million dollars was worth putting on this god-awful suit poking through his neck like a knife, a jacket supposed to fit but had popped off one of the buttons, and of course, his hair. Swept back. Ruled over by mounds of gel and whatever it was the rest of his brothers had on. They all looked like elves in a Christmas workshop assembly line with the red tie over his chest.

Whatever trouble would happen, they’d call him. Now that they’ve blocked off his room, however, he came to not much resort.

The manor’s pool, to his luck, was unguarded. Unused for the last few months, but still clean.

Whatever silence was, and whatever silence could be, it was just that when he shut the door behind him, not bothering to latch on the lock, and turned on one of the lights, the purple and blue ones that shone from underneath the pool’s floor, like some magical lake that would speak to him in rhymes, maybe hand him a sword floating on a lily pad, but not even that was enough to impress him. As if anything impresses him still.

He stood by the poolside, hands in his suit pockets. Audibly he cursed that he forgot to bring a cigarette pack, but even that thought didn’t last long enough to bother him too much.

Jason stood there, right by the water, and watched the lights change like they told much of a story.

Something. Anything, to intrigue him.

Anything to make him feel again, to interest him, to cry out to him and actually hold his attention long enough for it to not be whisked away from his mind by his own hands because thinking or feeling was too much work.

But even those very lights, that didn’t seem so bright at all, were silent. The same silence for so many months.

He wanted noise. He wanted to hear again. But nothing, nothing was loud enough for him anymore. Someone could be screaming into his head and so much of it would disperse before it even reaches his ears at all, much less his brain. It wasn’t that he was being dumb, though that would be quite the reason.

But it was that nothing was bright enough anymore.

No one was attractive, or intriguing, or entertaining. Not by a mile.

Nothing. He cared about nothing.

Everything, all except her.

And it had to be just that, no room so bright, no smile so true, then when it was with her.

He hated the truth, perhaps just as much as he hated the rest of the world. The only thing he didn’t hate was someone he couldn’t even be with, much less love. But here he was.

Some noise from the door he came in from. He should have locked it. Now someone else was here.

More so did he wish that when he turned and saw who it was.

“Here?” Y/N’s shoes against the empty ground. That, he heard. Fuck him. “Really?”

“They closed off my room.”

She looked really pretty, lipstick on her already red lips, jumpsuit dragging along the tiles and her hair down her back. And she didn’t stop walking until she was right by his side, much to his dismay. Still, he didn’t move. Though god forbid he allow himself another look after the first one.

“You’re just gonna stand here and stare at the water?”

“Better than that shitshow outside.”

“Every party’s a shitshow for you.”

“Finally, one of you caught on.” He shifted his arms as if he had a drink he was holding, which he didn’t. He needed one badly.

“Then why accept the job?” she shrugged. “You could have just said no.”

He didn’t expect her to look at the water like it were at all interesting.

But suddenly, the lights from underneath didn’t seem so dull anymore.

Because even having to swim through the lavas of literal hell, I’d leave the comforts of isolation if it means you’d be anywhere within the room.

“Two thousand dollars,” he said.

“Ah.”

Everything did get easier to understand, once he stopped with the moping and the denial and actually allowed that stupid little voice he hated to speak up loud enough so he’d listen to it.

“Maybe you’re right,” she laughed. “The water actually is a lot more interesting.”

Right then, he allowed himself a second, subtle look. At her face. The thin straps over her shoulders that laid so well against her skin. Her hair she’d purposely made unruly but still styled enough to be classy.

The next thing to notice were her hands. They weren’t shaking, though they weren’t unmoving either. Her thumbs were rubbing over the backs of her palms, much like fidgeting her fingers would as if she were nervous. But there shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Nothing he could see, at that.

But after a look at her hands, it was her eyes that told him the whole story of her trailing thoughts, thoughts that maybe she didn’t know about as well.

Three years since she’s last stepped into a pool, since she’s felt that much water around her, dance along every bit of her skin when she’d push through the waves and move about as if she were floating, or flying, suspended from the ground and not have a string to hold her up.

She wanted to. He could see that. But it was doubtful that she’d admit to that. She’d never admit to that, not when it would only cause so much disappointment when she’ll ultimately cower away.

But her wanting to swim made him want to swim.

Some first step. To have someone to help her. He could be that someone.

Not even thinking for himself anymore. Jason was off to the benches at the side, and had taken off his tie and slid it off his neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, just as he took off his suit jacket.

“I’m going in.”

She looked at him like she would to a troll that had climbed out of the sewers, though it wasn’t much out of disgust as it would be of disbelief. At least, he hoped it was. That wasn’t even to matter. He’d taken off his dress shirt before he even realized what he was doing at all.

Not something he’d do so suddenly, but then again, some of the most stupid things he’s ever done the past year were all for her sake. This didn’t surprise him at the least, not even the fact that the more rational part of him was watching him move like some hamster in a wheel stupidly trying to run away.

“You’re gonna swim?”

He unbuckled his belt. “Mind turning around?”

Her eyes flashed wide open, and she did as told.

Jason took off his pants, his shoes, everything save for his boxers. This wasn’t so stupid. It shouldn’t be.

He stepped into the pool, one foot first, then he slid in. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted it to go against his heat and make him feel something and actually overwhelm him. And it was just that, that very feeling he’d long craved, when he spread his arms and let the water seep into his flesh.

Then he found himself smiling, just as he looked up and caught Y/N watching him do all that, lips between her teeth and beaming back so wonderfully bright, every part of him ached for that sight to last so much longer.

He sat back, waved through the water, inviting her even when he wasn’t asking her, telling her that this is all okay, that she was ready.

A million voices were screaming at him that none of this added up to just about every thought he could muster, that it wasn’t in him to just jump into the water, half naked and alone with the woman he loved. So many asking him what the hell he was doing, that all this was going to scare her away.

But it was, in fact, in him to know what went on in her head, as she longingly looked at the pool like it were so much more than that. It was in him to know that there’s so many more steps in this staircase of healing, to being that very person she’d sought out to be, away from the incident, who she no longer was, and never has been.

Jason swam over to the side of the pool, at the side where she stood.

And with that, a smile so beautiful, she crouched over and set her legs to the side so she could sit on the ground. Her hand was too near from where he laid his arms, but he didn’t reach for it. He just watched as the droplets that fell from his skin onto the ground nipped at her fingers.

“Is it cold?”

His voice was low and husky. “Yeah…”

“Is it nice?”

Jason looked to the wall behind her and laughed. “The water’s great.”

She hummed.

Her hands. Something about them. He couldn’t look away. Like they were so much more than her soft fingers and her gentle touch. With his chin buried onto his folded arms, he kept looking.

Not from her hands that were reluctantly reaching for the water’s surface, shy, bashful even, like it would sting her if she inched too close. Y/N stretched out her fingers and touched it, enough to drench just the tip of it, then she twirled it about to create wonderful ripples that waved to his body.

Jason reached over to hold her wrist, stopped just in case she were to pull away, but she didn’t pull away.

Y/N’s eyes were on him, just as silent and curious, and he felt her relax.

He led her hand further into the water, deeper, colder. He felt the hair on her skin stand, bumps over her pores. She was breathless, over something so small. He pulled gently enough until the water reached up to her elbow.

Then the smile he earned out of her, the love he so wanted to earn as well, it was all he could see, with her toying with the water and swerving it about. Right then, he could hear everything. The droplets that danced, the splashes against their skin, her subtle laughter, her teeth over her lips. He heard it all, and it was beautiful, so much more than songs or tunes played by the most skilled hands over piano keys.

If he could just let himself watch her, for longer than he hoped, he’d fall deeper in love than the depths he’d already fallen into, and had tried, relentlessly, to escape from, but couldn’t. Denial didn’t help much, but neither did admittance. He was stuck. And if only things weren’t so hard, he wouldn’t dare complain. Not when that very woman he loved was this beautiful.

She drew her hand away, her other one soothing the damp skin and ruining her jumpsuit with the water, which she didn’t even care about.

He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His heart open and his mind shut off. From how she sat, her ankle was exposed, and it was close enough to the water to feel the splatters but not enough to get wet.

Still, without a word, Jason cupped his hand, drew a bit of water up to the surface.

Then he played those drops right onto her skin, close to her feet where her shoes were strapped around. She clenched her toes at the cold, but she seemed to have liked it. He did it again, the droplets falling from his fingers, until her skin was stiff from the air so cold with it drenched.

That’s when she sighed, went on to stare at the little waves he’d created.

“I want to go in.”

He backed away from the pool side, waved his arms about to show her further that it was safe, and wonderful. Then he nodded at her. “If you think you’re ready…”

He saw her throat hitch, but it wasn’t out of doubt.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t even have to try so hard to show her that everything she was going through, right then, he knew every second of what it was like. His face was soft, his look on her was soft, every bit of him had to be soft for this to be easy on her.

Then things weren’t so soft anymore when she started pulling down her straps from her shoulders. He gulped.

“Could you uh,” she twirled her finger around, motioning that he turn the other way. He did.

It was, both to his fortune and of not, that the wall in front of him was a mirror, reflecting all that went on behind his back. Everything in him stopped, even the blood down his every vein, and with that he watched as she exposed her temple of a body, one he’d worshipped and cherished and made feel every ounce of a sensation there could be, and continue to dream about even with her no longer being there.

But she was here now.

You:

The hardest to take off weren’t the straps on your shoes.

But all you ever had to know, was that the one you were with, the one you were hopelessly in love with, was there to help you through all of this.

“Do you, uh,” Jason coughed. “Need some help with that?”

You knew he was watching. If you actually didn’t want him to watch, you would have gone to the other side of the pool and took off your clothes where there wasn’t a mirror in front.

“Yeah,” you said.

As his eyes laid on you, relaxed, calm, just as you remembered he once watched your body so bare, with just a strapless bra over your chest and seamless panties, what contrasted the very cold that stemmed from the water was the burn underneath your flesh, the burn in your chest, the burn on your face and every nerve ending there was. Every nerve ending.

Suddenly you were limbless when he swam over to you, right in front from where you sat at the poolside, and his fingers were on the skin of your thighs, both of them. The water from his skin, falling and absorbing into your own. A sensation in itself.

You unlatched your leg, and he pulled it off and set it to your side.

Now, you were bare.

Jason was looking up at your eyes, however, and not at anything else. Not at the parts so incomplete. Not on places so ugly. As if you were so beautiful. And from that look alone, you started to believe that you were.

One at a time.

With his hands held out, you let him take your right leg, the one covered in burns and healed stitches, but still with toes and skin at all, and carefully, laid it into the water.

It was cold. Colder than even ice. But god, was it so heavenly.

Now, the other.

Jason, from what you could tell, tried not to look nervous just as you were, but you both smiled, and that was all there is to it to make you step into that very threshold once so frightening.

Your left leg, ending just three inches below your knee, dipped into the water’s surface.

You were here.

You were free.

You could feel the cold, the water, the waves, and the rush up to your head.

“Take your time,” Jason breathed, and his voice was all the more wonderful with everything else you could feel.

Any more, and the tears might start to defy your efforts.

He was as gentle as you knew him to be, and with that, it urged you on. You wanted to be the freest version of yourself. You wanted to be in the water with him, and hold him.

“Jason-“

“I’m here.”

You slid off the poolside, and he was there to hold you up before you could even think to move. His warm hands were so different from how cold the water was, but as equally burning as the heat that spurred everywhere else. They held your waist, and you did not want them to move away at all.

“It’s okay,” he said, with his grip still strong. “I’ll let go only if you tell me to.”

So you didn’t tell him to.

Your hands, already they found their ways resting on top of his shoulders, holding onto him a lot firmer than you actually needed to. Your right leg touched the floor. Your left one waved about in the water. You looked down. They were there. They were alright. They didn’t sting, nor hurt, nor did you feel so exposed that you’d never want to step into any light again.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you frantically nodded, still looking down at the prettiest lights that shone beneath you and Jason’s feet.

You were laughing. “This is so great…”

“It is…”

With you so distracted marveling over the water, he thought you wouldn’t notice if his hands rubbed over your waist, circled them tighter, enough for his fingers to rest delicately on your spine. He was holding you so tenderly, yet you could feel how much he was holding back. And you just went on pretending not to notice.

“I want to go there.”

You pointed at the middle of the pool, where the lights were centered on, littered about to form this spiral that stretched out like a firework that burst into the sky.

“Alright,” said Jason. “Hold on, okay?”

You nodded, and again that wonderful sensory outburst that were supposed to overwhelm you, but didn’t, when Jason led you both to the center of the pool, the waves flowing against your flesh and skin. Oh, was it so beautiful. The water, touching your every bit, it was so much more than you remembered, and so much better than you’d have imagined.

As you reached that very center, and with you having to take in both the feel of this flight, the breath that had escaped you, the lights, ones you had to watch from afar, were now beneath and around you, like you stood right in the core of a star that exploded, a supernova, right at the flares and the burst of light and sound, just as it was on your flesh.

You were swimming on stars, on clouds, on a bed of petals so sweet. You were afloat in this wonderous space, the sun so close but not burning you with its light. There were tears. Wonderous tears. Ones you couldn’t hold back with your heart in full and your chest in this tug that pulled it in all directions. You splayed your arms out, and tilted your head back, enough for your hair to be dipped into the water. And you closed your eyes. Everything. Everything. This was everything.

You looked back up, and no one, not even the moon itself in the midst of a dark sky, had ever looked at you the way Jason did.

Oh god, how you loved him.

Then that music, one that was playing so sweetly the moment you stepped in, it blurred out when you circled your arms around his strong neck.

He kept with his promise and went on to keep holding you so close, closer, until your chest met his so solid, all the cold from the once freezing water was whisked away.

Fingers tangled onto his hair, breaths battling as they met in the space in between, a space that shouldn’t have been there at all. His own hands trailed down to your hips, further down until it made you jolt.

Then your legs were around him. You were flying, so high up in the sky not even the clouds would reach you.

He pushed back your hair.

You didn’t know at what point your lips had met, your warmth uniting into one, single flame, but everything was so much of the speed of a moving picture, that none of time, nothing of the sort that wasn’t him and him alone, ever even mattered anymore.

Jason:

What was it called, when something unfolded before you, and everything happened so fast even when you’d try to make it slow, flashed into this bright, white light, and suddenly you couldn’t move, nor say anything to protest?

That wasn’t even much to think about anymore.

Everything was paced, so slow, slow enough that he could feel every movement she made, every flick of her fingers, every sound that escaped her lips. It heightened to so much more than it actually was. Those months, where he no longer felt even just a splinter, now all those feelings collapsed into the now.

He was kissing the world, his world, and so much of her beauty manifested into this glorious flow. He was hungry, digging into her skin as if there were more to be undone. His lips were no different. Over her lips, her jaw, her neck, licking over her shoulder and back over to her lips where she tasted the sweetest.

She did not hold back either, and he didn’t want her to. She pulled on his hair enough to make it hurt and so perfect was that pain, the growl that came out of him so animalistic, even more so did he starve. Starve for her. He wanted to taste every bit of her.

And so he did, pushing her to the edge of the pool and turning her around so no longer could anything restrict his shaking touch, on every part of her that would spark a fire engulf larger than the one within his chest. He pushed himself inside her, over and over until it hurt.

He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hide behind this mask of gentleness any longer. For that same gentleness and touches so soft, only could be when his efforts to conceal what his desires truly manifested into, and it comes with deep want, so much lust, fire that burns, skin being drawn in red by the hungriest nails and teeth that dug into flesh. His hips started to hurt, so did his hands. It was starting to hurt her, too, with there being marks on just about every sweet spot there was. But it was just those marks that pushed them both further into fulfillment.

His name, Jason, the most beautiful thing to ever escape her lips, his hands holding her still, holding her neck and squeezing just enough to let her know that only he could ever give her that perfect mix of pain and gratification so immense, that only he could touch her and make it last, and for the whole of the night, his name was the only thing she could ever cry out.

You:

Oh.

Oh, was it all so wonderful.

The strain, the pull of every muscle, the purple marks on your neck, the bruises on your hips, the aches down your cunt, and every bit inside you, still with the many releases, bursts of avalanches and numbs that faltered into lingering buzzes, and eventually this humming that continued like some song you couldn’t remember. Wonderful. Magical. Even if you could think straight, which you couldn’t do much with what happened, you couldn’t describe it with enough justice.

You’ve never slept so well in so long, your head up far beyond the clouds, into space and the stars above, the gas giants that make you even lighter. With not even gravity to pull you down, you were soaring up above.

In some idealistic perfection, a world without the cruelties you knew all too well, it would be that you’d wake up, satisfied at that, to a bed that wasn’t empty, next to a man you loved whose body was filled with the deepest scars, and that would have been the end to the story and all else, the chaos most especially, would cease.

But as it were as cruel as it were kind enough to grant you that moment of bliss, you woke up, still with the sky so dark, and your arm outstretched for a naked body no longer there, but instead you found that very body already with his clothes on, moving as quiet as he possibly could outside the bed.

“Jason?” you sighed, then you sat up holding the thin sheet up to your chest.

Jason was startled. Wasn’t expecting to wake you. Or that, he was trying not to.

“Why are you up?” he asked. He was in a hurry.

And his face, from what you could read, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you leaving?”

Again? You wanted to say.

But even if you did, his response wouldn’t have changed. For the better, that is. Because he didn’t have much a response at all.

“Go back to bed.”

“What’s going on-“

“I’m sorry.”

He zipped up his pants, put on his jacket and just like that he was headed for the door.

His face was too grim and blank for him to leave with intention to come back. His hands were too fast reaching for the door. His voice, too low as if he were hiding something from eventually spilling. No. He was leaving. And he wouldn’t want to be found. Not after that look he just gave you before he opened the door.

You took all the sheets and reached for his shoulder. Already, you were shattered. Already, the weight had befallen, on your arms and your chest. He was so stiff that even to just turn, it was hard for him to do.

But you held his face, really held him so he wouldn’t dare pull away. The air had been sucked out of that very room and so much of your body would have broken apart, fallen to the ground and no one would be there to pick them up.

“You don’t have to leave,” you whispered, pushing your forehead against his so your breaths would meet again. “Please, be with me-“

“Y/N -“

“What did I do?” You met his eyes.

“Nothing. Please. We’ll talk about this later-“

“When?”

He sounded so solid, so unaccepting of anything to be hurled at him.

“I have to go-“

“You’re not coming back, are you?“

“I said we’ll talk about this.”

“Don’t walk away from me-“

He didn’t even let you finish.

He was strong, and he never used that against you. But that time, he did. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you off him. In less time than you would have hoped, he was gone.

The man you wanted. The one you loved. The one you chose.

Wouldn’t choose you.

Another of the hurt, that descent, when you’ve slipped into this hole so familiar yet the pain wasn’t something to get used to. Tears on the sheets, broken, so many of them spilling out of you and onto the floor, your skin, the bed.

You can’t shatter again. You can’t break any more.

This was the choice you made. No one told you it was all going to be easy. That all this would be handed over just as you called the moment you wanted it. No. Not with him.

Go after him.

Tell him everything.

Go after him.

You grabbed everything you got, put on your clothes and rushed out that door before you were even fully awake enough for your eyes to adjust to the light. Straight down the stairs, out into the garage where you knew Jason parked his bike. He wasn’t there. He already left.

So you took one of the keys that were hung on the wall, started up one of Bruce’s many cars and drove out of that manor.

You weren’t going to let go. You’d chase him if you had to.

You knew this would happen, the moment you realized you loved this asshole. You saw this coming. And you were prepared.

You were as fast as if you flew, if you were no heavier than a speck, a particle that would let even the flap of a butterfly’s wings change its course and move so fast, no one would have seen it.

You called him. As you drove and reached the city, you did not stop calling. Five. Six. Ten times. He didn’t answer.

Once you reached his apartment, seeing that his bike wasn’t where he’d parked it, you called again.

At the fifteenth call, he picked up.

“Jason, for the love of god-“

Your hands were shaking as it held the wheel, and nothing, not even the rain pattering onto the windshield would have calmed you. Everything happened just as fast as the rest of the night went on. And here you were, at the end, and you tripped just as you saw that very end of the dark tunnel.

“Y/N…” he said. And his voice a lot softer than it had been just then.

“Please, just talk to me.”

“We’ll talk. I promise you, we will-“

“I want to talk to you now-“

“You think you know what you want,” he said. “But you don’t. Give it time. You’ll change your mind.”

You slammed your fists against the wheel and the horn blew under the impact.

“You said you’d never make decisions for me-“

“If this is your decision, you need me to make it for you.”

So close. So close to driving away and leave him for the rest of forever.

But it wasn’t close enough.

You turned to the screen right by the car’s dashboard, pressed onto the button to turn on Bruce’s many trackers. There was a red dot.

‘No,’ you whispered. ‘No, you won’t.’

Jason:

“I’m sorry…” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry… but I promise you. Everything will get better.”

Up a rooftop, where he thought she’d never find him. It was hard to ignore the quake in his voice, his hands, how every word he spoke was like driving a knife down his throat, neck, and chest.

“No,” she screamed, and her cries hurt more than that very knife ever would. “It won’t. You’re a coward. What are you gonna do? Leave for another four months?”

“That’s not true.”

“Tell me it is!”

“Y/N.”

He let the skyline distract him, the buildings that soared up, higher than he could ever stand, then locked his eyes onto one of them so they wouldn’t defy him and break apart.

“Whatever it is you think is going on, it isn’t. I already told you how I felt. Why didn’t you just lis-“

Of course, she’d find him.

To be frank, even if it were one of the other safe houses he’s picked that wasn’t on any map of the city, she was bound to find him. He left her at Wayne Manor, for fuck’s sake.

The minute he heard her footsteps, coming in from entryway, he stopped talking, breathing even, and put his phone down. Trackers. Of course. Bruce had five of them on him at least.

He turned around.

“You actually fucking followed me-“

“Why?”

She wore the same thing from that night, the same suit he’d lustfully watched her take off, straps down those very shoulders, baring herself. Her hair, up in this beautiful mess, makeup no longer there and her face beautifully bare. Still a sight, she was, a sight he no longer wanted to get lost in.

“Why is this so hard for you-“

“Because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?“

“Because, I-“

Every word out of him, a fire that couldn’t be put out. Flames uncontrollable, and his breath nothing but encouraging winds.

“Because you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m not any of my brothers… I was the one who never stood a chance,” he said. “No one would think you’d want me, out of the many other things you could have had. One day, you’re gonna realize that I’m not what you wanted-“

“I love you-“

God, it was everything he ever wanted to hear.

“You had Dick and Tim. They’ve loved you for so long… And you’re actually choosing the one guy who doesn’t?“

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Another step forward from her. Another step back from him. He can’t stand too close or all this would be as close to the world’s slowest, most painful death.

“Nothing could have pointed you to me. Everything was telling you to-“

“For fuck’s sake, stop listening to everything else and just listen to me.”

A struggle at that.

But he’s never been so cold.

It wasn’t even from the wind from such a height, if there were any at all. But he was shivering, his teeth were gritting. Everything he said, he didn’t even mean. And all the more was it excruciating to hear himself say it all.

But he could listen. Even if it’d hurt. He’ll listen.

She was crying. To just reach over and hold her hand. He couldn’t even do that.

“Three years ago,” she whispered into the cold night air. “I was at the manor. Two weeks out of the hospital. I was just learning how to walk again but that day was hard on me. I couldn’t make a step. I was on my bed, and I was just staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t get out of it.”

It pained him all the more, when he knew nothing of what was to come to him, that all this was going to catch him before he’d even realize what it was.

“You never visit me at the manor but that day, you were there. I don’t even remember what for, but you stopped by and you caught me reading A Christmas Carol because it was the one book in my room that I actually liked. Because I couldn’t go down to the library and get more, and I didn’t want to ask from anyone.

“We ended up talking about Dickens. I didn’t know shit, but I remember you talking about him like he was your uncle and I just listened to you. I told you I liked reading his books. You said you’d bring me more when you’d come back. Three days later, you did. You got me Great Expectations.”

Great Expectations.

Why can’t he remember this?

“You left, and I read it that same night. That’s when I found a quote that you highlighted.”

Jason took a step back, away from her.

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Everything. Everything that devastated, all suddenly came to place.

“The book was new. Store bought. The tag was still there. You bought it for me a day after you visited. Then you read it yourself and highlighted that quote.”

“How did you-“

“Remember that?”

She ignored the streaks down her skin, the droplets that fell down her neck.

“It was just a quote,” she shrugged. “It easily could have been nothing… but if I think of it differently now, it all makes so much sense.”

If he took another step back, he’d fall over the ledge.

He should have done that, now that she had walked close enough for him to get so lost into her face.

“If you loved me then,” you whispered. “Did you even know about it?”

This. This was worse than a fall.

He closed his eyes and everything fell through. The tears. The sobs. Everything. Because he did love her then. He’s always loved her since. But to admit it was close to writing his own death sentence.

This. This was death. And he’d happily jump back into that abyss.

“I didn’t want to believe it…”

You:

You reached for his face and for once, he welcomed it.

“If you tell me to leave right now,” you swallowed. “I’ll leave. I’ll never look for you again.”

Even if it hurts, even if I’ll have to live without you. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.

His hands found your wrists but it was to hold you, not to pry you away.

“Do you love me?”

It wasn’t in his words.

It was how he said yes that made you soar past the birds and the thin air from above.

It was when he finally took a step forward, to hold you in place, to keep you from falling apart and keep you so close, that acceptance of what truly went on, the love you’ve long known about and continued to believe in, even when he didn’t believe in it himself. It was there. It was what moved you. You could have fallen in from one of the many spaces above and still, you would end up in his arms.

“Of course, I do…“

Just as the sun rose, to greet you both into this morning anew. So new a life, waiting for you to come welcome it. And you welcomed it with the widest arms. He kissed you, so tender and real. Up where the city could see you, where you wanted to be seen, only to be with him.

Epilogue

Jason:

One box would have been enough for his clothes. He didn’t have much anyway. But as it turns out, leather jackets aren’t exactly as compact as he’d liked.

“Where do you want me to put these?!”

She was in the bathroom. He saw her peak her head out from the door to look at the jacket he was holding up.

“I set up a new closet for you!” she cried out, then she went back to brushing her teeth. “It’s beside mine!”

“Got it!”

He took the boxes of clothes, set it just outside the closet which he’ll definitely get into after he deals with everything else. Moving wasn’t something he liked doing, even when he’s moved around a single city so much before his lease would have allowed him to.

But, this new apartment, her apartment, covered in paint and canvases and rags all over the place that nipped at his neat freakiness he’d soon have to overcome, he might actually stick around.

“What about this!?”

He held up his box of books.

“I emptied a shelf for you, too! It’s next to my sketchbooks.”

“Sketchbooks, sketchbooks…”

Her sketchbooks were all over the fucking place.

He found that shelf, at least. Just enough for all his books. That is, if the paint cans above wouldn’t collapse.

“Do you clean up even just a little?”

“Shut up. It’s organized mess.”

“It’s always organized mess with you artists…”

“What?!”

“Nothing!”

She stepped out the bathroom, in nothing more than just a thin shirt and pajama shorts, then she watched him fumble with the last of his boxes.

“And, uh,” he coughed. “Can I put these somewhere?”

The look on her face, playfully annoyed as it was pleasantly unsurprised, she wanted to laugh that he’d resorted to storing his whole arsenal of weapons in a single cardboard box.

“That floorboard over there,” she pointed. “I loosened it up for you.”

“You’re a doll, pretty bird.” Jason put the box on the floor, ran up to her and grabbed her by her thighs, hoisting her whole thrashing body up his shoulder.

Her screams turned to laughter, then he spun her around, slammed her into her own bed like it was a wrestling ring and held her down with a headlock.

Everything he’s ever thought how this would have ended wasn’t so much of a fraction of how it went. Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

This was how it ended.

And he never wanted it to end.

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MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

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