#and my negative to watch shows in dub if i could avoid it

[pinkrobinontheloose]

One thing that freaked me out when I was little, was grown accustomed to watch something with subtitles on the TV and all of the sudden, a few days later, watching with dub in Spanish (is my first language).

I cried so hard the first time it happened that scared my uncle and he had to turn off the TV and take me to the garden to make sand cakes.

The reason? I thought someone changed the brain of my favorite character for another one who spoke Spanish but didn't sound like the character at all.

Later I was explained what happened in reality. Didn't make less upset. I only can watch certain cartoons in dub (cause that's are the ones I watched in that format) but don't you dare to give Dr. House in dub, I will eviscerate you alive

[shintin]

Gunpowder Dreams

Chapter 10 (Plan)

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

They didn't know a wounded man would show no mercy when they took the best thing he ever had away from him. What did they say? Don't poke the dragon if you can't take the heat; if you do, expect the flames.

Genre: explicit smut, toxic relation, romance, angst (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, sexual situations, dub-con, graphic violence, gore, angst, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, cunnilingus + fellatio, creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, too many smut scenes, emotional trauma, and etc.

Song Recommendation: Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?

Note: Sorry for the delayed update. Unexpected events in life took place. I hope with this smut chapter, I can earn your forgiveness.

Chapter Index - Next Chapter

The darkness suffocated you; unsettling dreams bled all over your mind and prevented you from finding rest. You only had your dreams to give you peace, but now they had vanished, leaving you unsure how to get them back.

All you saw when you closed your eyes was Knives.

You kept getting cut over and over and over, with a knife in his hand, and Vash shot his brother in the leg and outside, the wind sang, but its high-pitched and off-key melody made it difficult for you to ask it to stop. The blood on your skin drained the warmth from your veins, leaving you freezing. The floor beneath you seemed to engulf you as you lay on your back. You could taste the clotted blood in your mouth, throat, and heart.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Yet another delightful adventure in the land of perpetual misfortune.

With a sigh, you turned in bed, your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and when you blinked, you realized the leather couch in front of the windows was empty, with rumpled sheets tossed aside. Despite the house having millions of rooms, he chose to sleep on the couch. You weren't sure why he kept you in his room or why he preferred the sofa over another room. You didn't seek answers or dwell on it. Having him in the room brought comfort, but he was absent right now.

Once again, a sigh came out of your lips.

Being in Vash's presence was like a rollercoaster ride. He was so used to solitude that each day spent with him brought new revelations. These discoveries weren't entirely negative; in fact, most of what you learned about him was endearing and harmless.

Just last week, you stumbled upon him in his office, listening to vintage vinyl records. While you had seen his collection of records before, stacked high alongside old books and artwork, but seeing him simply sitting and listening to the music was a new experience altogether.

He didn't even notice your presence when you walked in that day. He sat completely motionless, staring at the wall, and you later realized he was listening to a Johnny Cash record. You discovered this when you peeked into his office hours after he had already left.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you couldn't help but wonder why Vash kept resetting the needle to listen to that one particular record. You were determined to find out which song it was, and it turned out to be a tune called "You're My Sunshine."

You had yet to share with him what you had witnessed that day, as you didn't want to disturb his comfort in his own space. However, some of you wanted to unravel his past, uncover both the good and bad aspects, and lay bare all the secrets so you could be done with it because you believed your imagination posed a greater threat than any of his hidden truths.

But you were not sure how to make that happen. He wasn't exactly known for his communication skills.

The previous night, you had feigned sleep as you watched him enter the room, cautiously lighting a small lampshade to avoid waking you up. He silently took a seat at the table, unloading his firearm and arranging the golden bullets on a cloth. He leaned over and cracked open the window slightly, hoping to dissipate the scent of gunpowder, but the bold wind had other plans. It audaciously swept in and playfully tousled his golden locks, eliciting a bittersweet smile from you that carried a tinge of pain. Yes, even smiling hurt. But witnessing him find solace was a rarity; now, you were fortunate enough to experience it twice.

With a revolver clutched in his gloved hand, he diligently used a bore snake to clean the barrel. You recognized the process because, when your father still had remnants of his humanity, he had taught you how to assist him in maintaining his firearm. However, you were only a child back then, unaware that cleaning the gun meant he had likely used it to take someone's life.

Men and their guns. They all use them for destruction, and the man before you had even used it to make you—

As the old memory resurfaced, a blend of anger and shameful emotions welled up, stinging the back of your eyes. You closed your eyes tightly, unwilling to witness Vash's sinful ritual any longer.

As you glanced around the dim room, your sleep-riddled eyes scanned from the couch to the shadows cast by the furniture. The filtered sunlight seeping through the covered windows faintly illuminated the space. Amidst the shadows, a phantom-like silhouette took shape that wasn't there, with light blond hair, chilling green eyes, and a mole beneath the right eye—a vicious ghost.

Your grandmother used to say that if you dwell on the thought of the devil long enough, he will appear at your doorstep.

The floorboards made a creaking sound to your right, seemingly originating from somewhere in the bedroom. Your head swiftly turned in that direction, and you took a sudden, sharp breath. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end like a frightened dog backed into a corner. You held your breath, being cautious not to make any noise in case the sound repeated. Silence enveloped the room, an eerie stillness. Your fingers tightly gripped the duvet on your lap as your heart raced faster.

There was an intruder in the room. But how? How the fuck did Knives manage to evade the guards again?

After another creak, a distinct footstep echoed through the room. You cautiously rose from the bed, but as you stood up, a wave of dizziness nearly caused you to fall. You managed to grab onto the side of the bed, trying to steady your spinning head.

You made your way over slowly, masking the nausea coursing through your body. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, breaths coming in quick succession. With measured steps, you pressed your back against the cold wall. Despite your attempts, a trembling breath managed to escape. Your chest heaved as you took rapid, shallow breaths while the echoing footsteps reverberated from an unfamiliar location.

You stood frozen, your back melding into the wall as if you were one with it, rendering you immobile and unable to hide. However, you refused to become a victim once more. Determined, you knew you had to find a sharp object. With urgency, you sprinted towards the wooden nightstand by the bed, frantically rummaging through the drawers in search of a knife, a gun, or any means of defense.

But you suddenly stopped.

One of the drawers contained a collection of origami made from napkins, which you had previously crafted. It struck you as odd that Vash had kept these seemingly insignificant origami pieces while discarding the plates he used to bring you donuts.

With hands trembling, you shut the drawer and turned your attention elsewhere in search of a weapon. However, in your state of unease, you accidentally collided head-on with something solid.

Something human.

Male.

You heard him sharply inhale, felt his hands stabilize your body, and sensed the blood draining from your face, leaving you weak and lightheaded.

"Vash," you exclaimed, struggling to catch your breath. You went through the familiar motions, just as you always did. Your heart skipped a beat, then raced uncontrollably, your breath became shallow, and your palms grew sweaty. No matter how many times you encountered him, he consistently evoked the same response from you: a mix of fear and excitement. You couldn't quite explain why it excited you.

Something had to be amiss with you. It wasn't ordinary for fiery warmth to surge through your veins in such conditions, leaving a tingle in its wake.

He refused to release his grip on you. You could hear the rapid, forceful thumping of his heart in the quiet space between you. He remained incredibly still and tense as if he were struggling to maintain control over his own body.

Your heart was giving out. "It was you—"

"What are you searching for?" he whispered, his words strained as if he struggled to breathe. His eyes, an unusual shade of blue, captured your attention even in the darkness—they were stunning, crystal clear, and had a penetrating quality that was somewhat unsettling. His hair was thick, a lustrous hue of gold, and his physique appeared slender and unassuming, yet his grip conveyed effortless strength.

"I thought someone was in the—" you trailed off, abruptly stopping your words. Vash stood before you, clad in nothing but a towel. A TOWEL! The embarrassment swept over you, and you wished you could simply disappear, perhaps even roll under the bed to avoid the awkwardness.

The voice you heard came from him. He had just stepped out of the shower, appearing as if he had hurriedly done so because of you. Water droplets cascaded from the tips of his hair onto his shoulder blades, trickling down towards his chest and well-defined abdominal muscles.

Vash maintained a deliberately neutral expression, his voice unaffected as he assured, "He won't return to this house again."

For a brief moment, it was hard to fathom that you were still standing there, gazing at Vash, who was wearing nothing but a towel. It wasn't easy to take the situation, or even yourself, seriously.

"You kept those origamis."

There it was. A flash of anger. In and out. Vash's eyes flickered with intensity, then settled. He shifted his gaze towards the wall, remaining silent for a moment. "Yes," he murmured, his voice calm and composed.

"I didn't intend to rummage through your belongings."

He said nothing.

"I was searching for something sharp to defend myself against the person hiding in the room." The words slipped effortlessly from your mouth. What surprised you even more was the need to vocalize them, to reassure Vash that you hadn't invaded his privacy.

"I couldn't care less if you get bored and snoop around my stuff," he stated dismissively, walking past you without making eye contact. "My mother used to craft origami. They reminded me of her." His voice was chillingly cold. You observed as he opened the drawer, clutching the towel around his waist with one hand, and crushed all the origami in his wet fist. " But she's dead now, so it holds no significance anymore." With that, he returned to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet right before your astonished eyes.

You couldn't quite understand why you felt a pang of hurt, considering those napkin origamis held no particular significance to you. However, witnessing him collect and preserve them in the drawer beside his bed stirred something tender in your heart. Unfortunately, as always, you couldn't shut up and ended up ruining the moment.

However, you were now aware. This man would go to any lengths to eliminate anything that could be perceived as a weakness.

He emerged from the bathroom and proceeded towards his walk-in closet, disregarding your gaze. You continued to watch him as he dropped his towel, exposing his bare buttocks to your view. You gulped as a hot sensation enveloped you, and your eyes shamelessly roamed from his butt cheeks to the muscles of his thighs, finally settling on his calves.

Who did sculpt this man?

 Vash had everything going for him in the looks department. He was hot as sin, with a stunning body and killer charm. You almost drool, but when he caught you stealing a glance, you hastily averted your gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the fantastic sheets.

Sheets? Seriously? Huh!

"You know, it's pretty rude to be snooping on people, love."

Embarrassment flooded your face, heating your cheeks, as you were caught in such a juvenile act. Suddenly, you felt utterly clueless about what to do with your hands. Your thoughts raced, overtaken by self-reproach. What the heck was wrong with you? The overwhelming urge to hide and disappear consumed you. You sprinted to the bathroom, securing the door with two locks. Leaning against the door, you slid down until you sat on the cool, black-tiled bathroom floor.

Stop grinning, stupid girl!

*

Another day in the never-ending circus of misery.

The gentle afternoon sunbeams lazily brushed against your cheeks, almost as if teasing you. Squinting your eyes, you peered out the window. It was chilly outside, yet the usual forecast of rain seemed absent for the day. The Gods above were like twisted demons, mocking you by making such a gloomy day appear this beautiful.

Ugh! Why—

No!

Wait a damn minute!

Vash stood in the yard, and you were aware of this because you could see him from behind the curtain. He wore a tailor-made shirt that hugged his figure, a black shade so deep that it nearly dazzled. His shoulders were embraced by a charcoal gray coat, fifty shades darker than coal, while his golden spiked hair contrasted the somber autumn surroundings. Black pants adorned his legs, accompanied by black leather gloves and matte black boots.

He appeared flawless, particularly amidst the grimness of the dirt and decay, encompassed by the dreariest hues this scenery could present. He stood as a striking figure, his eyes adorned in shades of deep blue and turquoise, casting a captivating silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun in a stunningly beguiling manner.

He could be glowing.

That could be a halo around his head.

This could be the world's way of making an example out of irony.

Vash possessed a beauty that surpassed even your most attractive ex-partner. He was far from being human; every aspect of him was extraordinary and unconventional.

He looked around, his eyes shielded by purple round sunglasses, and a gust of wind momentarily revealed the holster strapped to his right leg as his coat flapped open. He didn't even step into his own yard without his gun. The irony!

The men surrounding him appeared to be awaiting instructions, anticipating something, and you couldn't tear your eyes away. A strange thrill coursed through you, being in such proximity yet still distant. It felt like an advantage, being able to observe him unnoticed.

He was a strange, strange, unhinged man. You weren't sure if you could ever forget what he had done to you, the way he had made you feel, and the intense desire to bring harm upon him. The urge to despise him indefinitely lingered within you, but it was gradually weakening. He had abducted you, callously exposing you to danger, and vanished while his brother subjected you to repeated torment. Yet, he also took it upon himself to mend the shattered fragments afterward, carefully gathering and reassembling them—as janky as it was. You wanted to harbor hatred towards him but found yourself at a loss as to how to do so anymore.

You had no clue about who he truly was—actually, you never had much knowledge regarding how he spent his days unless he was in your company. Even now, you remained clueless about his purpose for being there.

He eventually uttered a few words to the men, and they nodded in swift agreement before running around. You retreated entirely behind the curtains, making sure to stay hidden. You positioned yourself at an angle, ensuring he wouldn't catch sight of you even if he happened to glance in your direction.

Vash removed his glasses and ran his hand across his face, briefly covering his eyes before his hand settled on his mouth as though he held something he couldn't bring himself to say.

Suddenly, he seemed tired. His eyes appeared somewhat … sorrowful, although you were convinced you were just reading him wrong. You observed him as he observed those around him, paying close attention to notice that his gaze lingered on the red Geranium flowers, fighting to survive in the harsh weather. You attempted to decipher Vash's expression as he stared at them, but he was always careful to keep himself completely neutral. He remained like a statue in the wind, doing nothing more than blinking.

A stray dog headed straight toward him. Suddenly, fear gripped you. You felt concerned for the poor creature, a weak little animal that had mistakenly wandered into the wrong place, searching for morsels of food to stave off hunger for a few more hours.

Your heart began racing in your chest, pumping blood too quickly and forcefully. A sense of impending doom washed over you, leaving you with an unexplainable feeling that something dreadful was on the horizon.

The black dog dashed straight into the back of Vash's legs as if it had impaired vision and couldn't see its path clearly. It panted heavily, its tongue hanging to the side, seemingly unsure how to retract it. The dog whined and whimpered slightly, leaving saliva all over Vash's impeccably fine pants. You held your breath, anxiously awaiting as the golden man turned around.

You half expected he might draw his gun and shoot the dog directly in the head, having witnessed him do such a thing to a person before. However, upon seeing the dog, Vash's countenance underwent a transformation. His flawless facade fractured, revealing cracks in his otherwise perfect demeanor. Surprise elevated his eyebrows and widened his eyes if only for a fleeting moment, providing you with ample opportunity to take note of it.

He looked around, his eyes shifting as they surveyed his surroundings before he gently scooped the animal into his arms. You felt a sudden desperation to witness his next actions, and your anxiety heightened, making it difficult to catch your breath.

You had witnessed the extent of Vash's capabilities when it came to harming another person. You had observed his callous heart, his emotionless eyes, and his complete indifference. His composed and collected demeanor remained unshaken even after he took a life without hesitation. Now, you could only speculate about what he might have in store for an innocent dog.

You felt an urgent need to witness it firsthand. You had to dispel the notion of him being a good person from your mind, and this was the perfect opportunity. It would serve as evidence that he was sick, corrupted, completely in the wrong, and would forever remain so.

You had to see what he was going to do to the helpless animal when a familiar voice called out from behind you, causing you to freeze in your tracks.

"Having an absolute blast, aren't we?" Bradd remarked sarcastically. "This room conveniently provides the ideal windows for our top-notch boss surveillance operations."

You quickly turned your head, giving him a sharp glare. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and shrugged nonchalantly upon noticing your reaction. He proceeded, "I knocked on the door multiple times. However, it seems you were so absorbed in your mission that you didn't notice, and I had to come in without an invitation."

Bradd moved until he stood beside you, and his presence tightened the knot forming in your stomach. T There was an ice-cold fortress shrouded around him, as palpable as the tension in his shoulders. It felt as though he was creating a distance between you, as if you were about to be sent off to war, and he believed he would never see you again.

On certain days, you resented him for assisting the twins, but deep down, you couldn't deny the truth that he was a good man. He had become your emotional support in recent months, and you had started to understand his character. He belonged to the category of men who prioritized only their own family, and anything beyond that circle? Held no significance to him.

At the moment, you were an outsider who had disrupted their usual order, akin to a parasite, just as he had described.

You turned your head, and your eyes widened at the sight of Vash crouching on the ground, using his hands to feed something to the dog. The trembling, bony body of the animal was nestled inside Vash's open coat, seeking warmth after enduring the cold for so long. The dog wagged its tail vigorously, briefly making eye contact with Vash before diving back into the cozy refuge of his coat. You heard Vash laugh, a sound you had rarely witnessed. It was a laughter that seemed to transform him into a completely different person, the kind of laugh that put stars in his eyes and dazzled his lips.

You realized you had never seen this side of him before. You had never glimpsed his teeth, so impeccably straight and white, an embodiment of perfection.

A flawless, flawless exterior for a man with a black, black heart.

It was almost inconceivable that the person you were staring at had blood on his hands. He looked soft and vulnerable—so human. His eyes squinted from his wide grin, and his rosy cheeks bore the marks of the chilly weather. Even his dimples were visible, adding to his overall charm.

He was undeniably the most breathtaking sight you had ever encountered. And yet, you wished you had never laid eyes on him, for something within your heart was tearing apart at the seams. You struggled to comprehend the image before you, as you desperately needed him to be wicked so you could revert to hating him. However, he defied your expectations. You didn't want to see Vash like this. It felt wrong, yet in some inexplicable way, it also felt right.

You believed that the revelations had ended, but you were mistaken once again. This realization left you pondering the extent of what remained unknown and how much more you would discover about Vash in the days and months ahead.

And it scared you.

Because the more you uncovered about him, you found fewer excuses to distance yourself from him. The image you once had of him was transforming right in front of your eyes, becoming something that terrified you in ways you never could've expected. Amid so much uncertainty, all you could think was that it wasn't the right time. It wasn't the right place. Not when there were still so many problems around.

If only your emotions could grasp the significance of perfect timing.

You released a sigh, frustrated with your own indecisiveness. Although you couldn't ignore your physical attraction towards him, you struggled to let go of your initial perception of his character. It wasn't easy for you to abruptly shift your perspective and view him as anything other than a manipulative monster. You required time to adapt to the idea of accepting Vash as a normal human.

"The dog," Bradd interrupted, returning you to the present. "Nicholas used to take care of that dog, but we hadn't seen her around for quite some time until a few days ago," Bradd explained. "Seems like Angelica has taken a liking to Vash as well." Bradd glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you found yourself perplexed, trying to comprehend why he continued to smile at you even after he averted his gaze. Flustered and feeling strangely embarrassed, you scrambled to find something to say.

"Is there anything you need from me?" you inquired, keeping your gaze fixed on Vash as he affectionately rubbed the dog's head and chuckled, trying to avoid eye contact with Bradd.

"Hm?"

You shifted your attention to Bradd. "You're here. Did you come for small talk?"

"Oh," Bradd responded, scratching the back of his neck while sporting a smile. The creases forming at the corners of his lips and eyes revealed his age. You wondered whether he had a family and if they were aware of his association with mafia freaks.

"I came to see how you're doing and to let you know that Vash wants to meet you in the living room. If you need to change, I'll wait here to accompany you. I know you've likely become familiar with the layout of this house through your very successful attempts to flee, but I still want to ensure you don't wander into the wrong rooms," he said, winking.

You bit your tongue to refrain from responding with more sarcasm than his.

*

Vash couldn't hide his surprise when he walked into the living room. As you glanced up, you finished the remaining Vodka in your glass. "Apologies for once again getting into your alcohol," you said to him, and he blinked in response.

"You're feeling better."

You nodded over your shoulder. "I was thirsty, and the drinks were there while you ran late."

"Yes," he replied, speaking slowly and cautiously.

"So I had a few shots."

"I can tell," Vash remarked, remaining stationary near the stairs, his gaze fixed upon you. He didn't utter a word but slowly advanced into the living room, removing his coat and delicately placing it over an armchair. He retrieved a gun from his holster and another from his back, deliberately positioning them on the table beside your empty vodka glass.

"I want to hurt your brother, Vash Saverem," you blurted out abruptly. It startled you to realize how much you had transformed over the past few months. You felt like an entirely different person—more audacious, hardened, and, for the first time, willing to acknowledge your anger. It was a liberating experience.

"Are you—" he shook his head, then apologized, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

You looked up, feeling the weight of Vash's stare. He appeared captivated as if intrigued by your words. If he didn't fully grasp your meaning, you were prepared to express it differently. "I need revenge," you stated firmly, or that's what you thought.

He took a seat and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and intertwining his hands. A wide, amused grin spread across his face, radiating a genuine sincerity that struck you like thunder. Something pricked at your eyes and weakened your knees. "How do you plan to accomplish that, love?"

"I've got plans."

"Is that so?" He leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, and couldn't help but maintain a constant smile.

"Yes," you replied, growing increasingly irritated. Vash didn't seem to be taking you seriously, likely attributing your seriousness to being drunk. While you were indeed drunk, you were also very, very serious.

Vash waited, observing your annoyed expression, and nodded once, signaling you to continue.

A familiar, intoxicating buzz settled in your stomach, amplified by the alcohol swirling within your empty belly. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and your mouth felt parched as if you had swallowed sand. "Your brother—"

"You can't even speak his name yet talk about revenge?"

You attempted to conceal your surprise, but now you found yourself uncertain why you hesitated to utter his name. Perhaps it was because you feared that he would suddenly materialize, much like summoning a devil by speaking his name.

You slid your empty glass towards Vash, indicating that you wanted him to refill it. Vash glanced at you, and what looked like concern was clouded in his pretty eyes.

"If you want me to mention his name, hand me the bottle," you declared, snatching the vodka bottle from his grasp before taking a large gulp. The taste made your face contort, reaffirming your belief that alcohol tasted like shit when it wasn't mixed with something. You'd die on that hill. However, you did appreciate the burning sensation as it traveled down your throat, spreading warmth throughout your body.

"Knives," you said the name, taking a deep breath. Remembering the adage that fear of a name only heightens fear of the thing itself, you decided to defy that fear. So fuck him and his name! "Are you content now?"

He let out a snort. "Do you honestly believe that you can simply stroll out of this room," Vash said to you, "knock on Knives' door and shoot him in the head?"

Yes. "No."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Vash said softly, and you glared at him. "My brother isn't here," Vash continued. "He's gone to deal with a business complication elsewhere."

"He's not here?" you questioned.

"No," Vash responded, his smile fading. "And that's precisely why I wanted to speak with you." He picked up a larger glass from the table and poured himself a whole serving of Bourbon, likely his preferred drink. He downed the bitter liquor in a single gulp, then refilled the glass. He pressed the glass against his lips with his gaze fixed on you. "I need you to be gone until he returns," he said, closing his eyes as he swallowed the entire contents of the glass.

"What?" Your heart picked up so quickly that you thought you might be experiencing a heart attack.

"You heard what I said."

"No," you declared, shaking your head. It's often said that you can't repeat the same mistake twice; for the second time, it becomes a choice rather than a mistake. Therefore, this was your decision.

"Bradd will help you. It's up to you whether you want to return to your father's house or forge a new path for yourself. If you opt for the latter, I'm ready to offer my support—"

"I JUST TOLD YOU I WANT TO GET MY REVENGE!"

"How?" Vash scrutinized you intently. "How do you plan to reach my twin? How will you confront him?"

"I already told you I have plans!" you exclaimed, clenching your fists. "But I require your help," you whispered, filled with both fear and a glimmer of hope. You caught Vash's gaze from across the table. "What if I exploit Knives' vulnerability?" you asked, raising your eyebrow slightly.

"That seems unlikely."

"Why do you think that?" you said, feeling desperate. "Even if there's the slightest chance—"

Vash sighed and ran his hand through his hair, disheveling his perfectly spiked hair. "He doesn't have any weaknesses. If there were any, I would have discovered them long ago. You wouldn't be making such statements if you knew him like I do. Hope will only break your heart all over again."

You dug your nails into the leather that you feared it might rip. However, you resisted the urge. You were well aware of the threats you had heard and your chosen path. "I am an outsider," you found yourself saying. "Maybe I can perceive things more clearly than you—"

"Love—"

"Dammit, Vash! I have to give it a shot. You have to understand—"

"This is not good for you," he avoided eye contact. "It's dangerous for you to believe anyone could harm Knives."

You stared at his resolute and unwavering profile while he focused on his hands. "In the worst-case scenario, I might end up dead. You have nothing to lose, so why won't you allow me to pursue it?" you whispered.

He rubbed his forehead. "I have numerous conflicts to deal with in the coming days," he said, his voice tense. "I have meetings to attend and negotiations with people even worse than my family." He took a deep breath, the air feeling constricted. A weighty silence hung between you. "I understand that you are now afraid of even your own shadow," he continued, his voice filled with concern. "You struggle to sleep, and I know my presence makes you uncomfortable. However, I can't leave you alone anymore. I've lost my trust in Knives. So, I'm granting you your freedom once again. But this time, I'll ensure you truly are leaving. I'm making this decision for your well-being."

"Oh." A pause. Was he sleeping on the uncomfortable couch because he was worried about you?

"Yes," he said—another pause.

"Or," you said to him, "I remain here, and you use me for whatever plan you have involving my father—"

"I don't have any plans regarding that," Vash replied melancholic.

"Fortunately for you, I have made plans, and in exchange, you will allow me to seek revenge against your brother, I mean Knives. I am prepared to face the consequences on my own."

Vash fought a smile but couldn't hold it back. He glanced downward, letting out a small laugh, before locking eyes with you. He shook his head.

"What's so funny?"

"My lovely girl."

"What?"

"I've been waiting for this moment for quite a while now."

"What do you mean?"

"You're finally ready," he remarked. "You're finally ready to fight back."

Shock surged through you. "Of course I am," you replied. In an instant, memories of the unbearable pain and the horrifying fear of being brutally attacked flooded your mind. You hadn't forgotten any of it, but you realized that if you wanted to find peace, you needed to momentarily set aside your animosity toward Vash. Because now that you were prepared to fight, you felt a sense of empowerment like never before. You marveled at how different you felt and how different you knew things could be. You had a lot of things to do, so many scores to settle, and a big revenge to exact.

Everything had changed. The child you once were had succumbed to her foolishness. It was your turn to engage in this game on your terms, and you were not afraid of cheating.

No matter what lay ahead, there was no going back for you now. There were no other choices. "I forge forward or die."

Vash burst into laughter, his expression bordering like he might cry.

"I will cause hurt to your brother," you declared, "and I will make sure he learns not to threaten me."

He was still smiling.

"I will."

"I know," he said.

"Then why are you laughing at me?" you asked, puzzled.

"I'm not," he said softly. "I'm just wondering," he said, "if you would like my assistance."

"What? You agree with—" You blinked rapidly, unable to believe what you just heard.

"There are three things you should know about me, love," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. "First," he began, "I hate my brother more than you could comprehend." He cleared his throat. "Second, I am unapologetically self-centered and make decisions primarily based on my interests in nearly every situation. And third," he paused, looking down and chuckling softly, "I believe death would be a reward for despicable people like me or your father." He lifted his head. "I've always told you," Vash said, "that we would make an exceptional team. From the moment we met, I've been waiting for you to be ready to acknowledge your anger and strength. I've been waiting patiently all this time."

"That's why you wanted to use me to hurt my father?"

"Does that bother you?"

Your jaw dropped. "What? Of course, it bothers me! Wouldn't it bother you?"

"No," he said casually. "I would feel honored to have assisted."

Words eluded you. You couldn't tell if it was the influence of alcohol or a newfound courage that ignited within you, urging you to let your inner fire scorch others as well. "If that's the case," you declared, your gaze fixed on Vash's face, "then I want to bestow an honor upon you, Mr. Savrem."

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to use me?"

"Yep," you exclaimed, emphasizing the P. "We can hit two birds with one stone."

Vash took hold of his glass and reclined against the couch, looking at you as though he no longer recognized you. Good. When something is subjected to intense pressure, it becomes distorted. It forms sharp edges that can inflict deep wounds.

He lightly tapped his finger against the crystal, and the sound reverberated through the quiet living room. The crackling of the fireplace was the only other sound present.

Vash crossed one leg over the other. "Elaborate," he demanded.

"Do you—like, do you just like men?"

"Why? Are you trying to seduce me?" Vash asked in a relaxed manner, drawing your focus toward him as he sipped his Bourbon and peered at you over the rim of his glass.

His gaze was probing and studious, yet you offered no reaction. Your facial muscles remained steadfast as you replied, "That's what you desire, isn't it?"

A sly grin appeared on Vash's face, accentuated by the dim lighting and the flickering shadows, giving him a sinister look. However, you didn't even flinch in response. He no longer had the power to intimidate you. You had witnessed him kneeling before you.

"Is this a part of your grand plan?"

"Yes," you replied, contemplating how you wished you had a bigger mouth to accommodate more alcohol. It was essential to muster courage for what you were about to say.

"Nothing will hurt my dad more than seeing everyone talk about his beloved daughter fucking his enemy. And about your brother," you stated, taking a deep breath. You couldn't believe those words had come from your mouth. Your ears grew warm, but you had to press on because Vash didn't even flinch and needed him to take you seriously. "He has a vulnerability, and it's you," you continued, and he lowered his glass, tilting his head to the side as his eyebrows furrowed. Encouraged, you pressed forward, "He cut me because he believed you cared for me, and I am growing in you." You let out a mocking laugh, "So, you are his weakness. He doesn't want to share his little brother, and I want to do the exact opposite."

"You didn't tell me anything about this detail."

"There was no reason for you to be aware of it then. However, now I want you to pretend that you have succumbed to my seduction. I know you are skilled at acting, so it shouldn't pose a challenge for you," you said, taking another swig and wincing at the burning.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't fuck you," he stated, finishing the remainder of his whiskey.

The words felt unpleasant on your tongue, but you forced them out anyway. "I don't want a relationship, and If you are interested in the buttholes—"

"For fuck's sake! I've been with women as well. So, let's put an end to this discussion about holes!"

"So, if you're not exclusively interested in men, what's holding you back?" you rushed out. He tilted his head, patiently waiting. "From fucking me," you stated plainly. "You didn't hold back before. What's preventing you now?"

He remained quiet for a moment. "Because I couldn't bear the guilt," he whispered, gazing at you contemplatively. "If it were to happen again, the outcome would be vastly different — you're already aware of that."

You folded your arms. "Would it, though?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Do you think if I were to pin you against a wall, you would resist initially only to succumb to pleasure eventually? Or do you think you would fight as if your life depended on it, only to end up mentally checking out from the trauma?"

You swallowed, the truth leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

"I will never claim to be a good, kind, or even honorable man. There is little of that left in me, and the truth is, it was never truly there to start with. I was born with a blackened soul. However, there is a distinction between those who are needlessly evil and those who do wrong in the hopes of achieving something good. I'll leave it up to you to decide which category I fall into."

You realized you didn't need to think about it at all. Trauma had a tight hold on you, but all you wanted Vash to do was hold you tighter.

You downed the remaining Vodka in a single gulp, relishing in the burn as it traveled down your throat. The clock ticked, approaching eight PM. It was the perfect timing since the household staff would soon be present to serve dinner. Why not put on a performance for them? You were confident that at least one of them would discreetly inform Knives about everything.

Adrenaline got steadily released into your bloodstream, akin to injecting heroin into a vein. Rising to your feet, you approached Vash, causing his muscles to tense up as you parted his crossed legs and settled onto his lap. Almost subconsciously, his hand swiftly grasped your waist to hold you. No matter how much he pretended otherwise, it was clear that men were all the same. Their dicks dictated their every decision.

"You'll end up getting hurt," he cautioned, his voice taking on a deeper tone as the words slipped out quietly and deliberately.

" Maybe I need another pain to wash away the one I'm experiencing now," you stated, unreservedly running your hand between your legs, provocatively stroking his crotch through his pants, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact with him.

He took a deep breath. "You're toying with fire," he croaked, shifting his gaze from your face to your hand resting on his groin.

"Then let your flames consume me, Vash," you urged, intensifying the pressure of your hand against the fabric. "Imagine the retribution we will exact upon the men who ruined us."

He tightly shut his eyes, tilting his head back as his lips parted. You reached out and touched him once more, this time with gentle tenderness. You felt his thumb caressing your side. Good.

You wished for Knives to witness this moment, wanting to prove something to the deluded man who thought he owned you. The only person with the right to claim your body was the one you granted permission to. You would allow Vash's hands to explore every inch of your skin, followed by the touch of his mouth. You would let his tongue lick your pussy until you were sated, right before he fucked you until you no longer knew your name.

You would let him because you said he could.

Vash drew you closer, pressing his body against yours and pinning your breasts against his chest. Your breath faltered as you felt the warmth surround you, his arm encircling your waist tightly, firmly locking you in place.

You liked the way he felt pressed against you. The softness of your body molded against the hard ridges of his. It felt... pleasant. Satisfying.

"We can handle this, Vash. Approach it like a business," you whispered in his ear, sensing his breath leaving him and his heart pounding against your chest.

Vash locked eyes with you briefly, and as you leaned in to kiss him, he placed his forefinger on your lips. "No need for kisses. This is not about making love. It's strictly business," he asserted.

As you were about to part your lips to speak, you were interrupted by his soft lips gliding rhythmically against your neck, reminiscent of water swaying the rocks beneath a cliff. A moan rose from your throat, and you immediately grasped the back of his neck, urging him to press his head closer to your skin.

He emitted a low, primal growl, his self-control slipping away. His other hand entwined itself in your hair, adjusting the angle of your head to gain better access. He sank his teeth into your flesh, skillfully exploring with an unrestrained fervor.

You clung to him tightly, pressing further into him. Shuddering with the feel of his hard cock digging into your stomach, his size only fueling your desire. He wasn't small, and that was precisely what you craved tonight. Something that would silence Knives' voice with pleasure, leaving you breathless and thoroughly gratified.

His tongue wrestled with your collarbones, skillfully swiping and lapping while his teeth playfully nipped at them. Another moan slipped free, bouncing in the air until he matched it with his groan.

The grip on your hair tightened, tilting your head back, allowing his lips to roam freely along the sensitive area where your neck and shoulder met.

You gasped as his teeth grazed your skin, a subtle warning before he sank them in. The sharp pleasure rolled your eyes to the back of your head, followed by a long moan.

"Fuck," he cursed, his tongue flicking against your neck as he emitted a primal groan. "That voice drives me wild."

You felt your eyelids flutter as you succumbed to the pleasure his tongue and teeth were drawing out of you. His hands ventured lower, and soon, you felt a firm tug on your jeans. The button popped open in seconds, accompanied by the low purr of your zipper being undone.

On a low growl, Vash inquired, "Is your pussy wet for me like before, love?" as he playfully nipped at your neck. It stung a little, causing you to wince in response to the slight pain. However, his tongue glided over the bite mark, soothing the sting.

"Yes," you whispered, pleasure overpowering the lingering pain. His hand smoothly slid down the front of your jeans and underwear, his fingers gradually moving lower until the tip of his middle finger teasingly dipped inside you.

A low, guttural growl arose from you as he realized how truthful you were being. "Fuck, love, that's it. If you want our plan to succeed, you need to be louder. Don't you want everyone to know we're fucking?"

Suddenly, two fingers delved inside you, skillfully curling to hit that sweet spot. Your vision blurred, and a scream of pleasure erupted from your lips, becoming your sole response. It was the only thing you could do at that moment.

With instinct, you tilted your hips, grinding against his hand. He withdrew his fingers partially before driving them back into you again. And again, until he fucked you with his fingers, leaving you with nothing to do but hold on tightly, your nails digging into his shirt.

You let out long, husky moans that emanated from your throat, obediently filling the space precisely as he had requested.

"You certainly know how to make a scene," he whispered into your ear, punctuating his words with a sharp nip. The heel of his palm pressed firmly against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. With his skilled fingers, he elevated your arousal, causing the orgasm to coil deep in your stomach. Then, he rubbed you just right, causing your knees to quake from the intense pleasure.

"Oh," you moaned, your breath coming in irregular, breathless gasps.

In a dark whisper, he asked, "Will you scream when you come on my hand, love?"

You thought you nodded, but you couldn't be sure, for in a matter of seconds, your head jerked backward as your climax escalated, building up to an intense peak.

"Let me hear it," he encouraged. His fingers glided out, only to plunge back in, this time with the addition of a third finger.

You bit your lip as you tumbled over the edge. A cry rushed out, the sound wavering in pitch as deep-seated pleasure engulfed you. Shamelessly, you pressed against his hand, surrendering to the relentless waves of ecstasy.

"So vindictive," he murmured, his voice tinged with satisfaction. Breathless yet possessing a heightened hunger, he took out his hand and lightly brushed it against your lower lip, spreading your arousal. "You've made quite a mess on my hand, love. It would be rude not to clean it up."

While maintaining eye contact, your tongue darted out, the tip sliding across his finger. He smiled wickedly, prompting you to open your mouth wider. Soon, you tasted your own familiar flavor, but it didn't last long as he withdrew his fingers and licked the remainder himself. You never expected such a simple and primal act to make you ache for him even more than you already did.

His hot breath tickled against your face, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As you closed your eyes, you couldn't help but bite your lip when you felt his hands slip into your shirt.

"Vash," you said in a hushed, breathless voice. His warm breath caressed your neck as he leaned in closer. Gentle lips delicately grazed the edge of your ear. Like a cascading waterfall, a torrent of chills raced down your back.

"You're such a good, obedient girl," he remarked. The aroma of smoke mingled with hints of mint and wood enveloped you. The thought of him being delicious and the desire to have him in your mouth crossed your mind.

As if reading your mind, he reached up and placed his hand on the back of your head, his fingers entwining in your hair and drawing you impossibly closer. In a moment of impulse, you did something foolish. You drew his lower lip into your mouth, savoring the taste of him and the feel of his lips against yours. Suddenly aware of your behavior, you let go of his lip, attempting to pull away.

He was like a drug, and similar to the actual substance, he led you to make idiotic decisions.

He held onto you tightly, using his hand to press your forehead against his own forcefully. "I explicitly said no kissing. Right?" His grip on your hair was firm.

You nodded in response.

In return, his tongue traced your chin, descending towards your neck once more. You let out a soft, unintentional moan, and as soon as he noticed your body's response, he nibbled on your skin. He completely consumed you, sucking and licking your body in a way you'd never experienced.

He was leaving hickeys all over your skin, and you found yourself powerless to resist him, just as you were powerless to deny the pleasure that ran through your veins. Another low growl pinged through his mouth, serving as a mere indication of his following action.

He gripped your waist and lifted you. "You're such a good fucking girl," he praised, leaning against your chest before biting your breasts through your shirt and bra. He held you against the wall, his body pressing tightly against yours.

Gasping for air, your feet touched the ground as you struggled to hold up your head, desperately inhaling precious oxygen. He firmly held your cheeks with his large hand, growling against you.

You inserted your hands between your bodies, traveling towards his muscled stomach and firm chest. With force, you roughly pushed him away.

"Wait, please stop," you gasped, feeling a haze of confusion clouding your mind. The heat of the moment had left your pussy pulsating and your senses overwhelmed.

"What did I tell you?" he demanded with a sharp tone. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, captivating you in a hypnotic grip. It was difficult to avert your gaze when you felt like a helpless prey entrapped by the eyes of a predator.

"What?" you whispered, still feeling lightheaded.

"You're toying with fire," he reiterated slowly, his voice rough with gravel. Your mouth opened, but the words remained trapped, unable to get out.

His lips brushed against your cheek, tracing a path along your jawline. "Think about the prying eyes behind these walls. Let's stick to your original plan and provide them with something to gossip about," he concluded, punctuating his words with a sharp nip on your earlobe. Your body reacted, arching involuntarily as sweat drops formed on your skin. " I know you want me."

"No," you denied in a whisper. "You're wrong."

He raised his head, a smug smirk gracing his lips. "So, you're going to be a bad girl tonight? Lie to my face and act like your pussy isn't aching to be filled up with my cock?"

A flush of heat spread across your cheeks, a blend of anger and embarrassment. "Not everything revolves around physical attraction," you retorted after a moment. "Maybe my body wants you, but up here," you tapped your temple, "it's a different story."

He nodded slowly, studying your face with a pensive gaze. Stepping back, he left you feeling a sense of emptiness. It was akin to a dark veil encasing the sun on a scorching summer day—a sudden, chilling coldness that seeped into your bones.

He seized your hand and yanked you away from the wall. He twirled you around until you stood in front of one of the mirrors next to the fireplace. You watched him from the reflection as he pressed his body against yours, his warmth soaking into your very being. Your gaze fixated on the mirror, your eyes meeting and colliding through the glass.

He lowered himself gradually, bringing his mouth close to your ear, never breaking eye contact. "If you've had a change of heart, I won't push you into anything and will stop right now," he whispered in your ear, eliciting sparks throughout your nerve endings. His voice carried ominous promises and dangerous new beginnings.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. The word "No" teetered on the edge of your tongue, like a delicate ballerina dancing precariously at the tip, dangerously close to falling off and breaking her ankle. Because if you said no to this man, you'd spend the rest of your night—week—possibly longer, regretting it.

As he desired, a sense of recklessness and impulsiveness descended upon you. All you yearned for was to surrender yourself to him. You were dying to deny him, yet you had to fight your body from turning and pulling him into you.

Perhaps, just this once, to piss off Knives, you considered giving in.

You rolled your lip between your teeth, and he watched you closely, studying every gesture as if trying to interpret a cryptic language concealed within the contours of your body.

"So you think it'll work?" you inquired, your voice husky and uneven. His mouth remained close to your ear while his gaze remained fixed on yours.

He nodded slowly, his expression serious and his gaze penetrating. "Yes, love," he whispered. You closed your eyes, resignation taking over your body. You couldn't deny the truth to yourself anymore. Even if he doubted the plan's success, you still wanted him to have you tonight.

Noticing the shift, he trailed his hand over your stomach. You stiffened under his touch, feeling goosebumps rising on your skin. His fingers gripped your shirt, gradually lifting it up, parting the material at a painful pace.

"Does it hurt you when I touch your scars?"

Your eyes widened. The man, bearing his own soul's fractures, would never perceive your scars as repulsive.

"Just get it over with," you snapped, frustration emanating from his intentionally slow progression.

A malicious grin appeared on his lips, and even the mirror couldn't diminish the cruelty behind it. "Poor little thing," he jeered. "You miss having a man inside you? Were your fingers not enough to satisfy you? Have you fantasized about me while touching yourself?"

With just a glance, he possessed an uncanny ability to steal the air from your lungs. When his words accompanied that piercing gaze, it felt like you had no lungs at all.

Your shirt fell to the ground.

"What if your men come in?" you whispered, your voice barely breaking through the palpable tension in the air.

He grinned—a mischievous smile that conveyed his indifference if someone did. "What do you think they'd do?" he asked, his fingertips lightly brushing against your scars.

Goosebumps emerged, a tangible reaction from the electricity dancing across your skin wherever his touch landed.

"Do you think they'd watch?" he asked. "Do you think they would relish the sight of your naked body? Maybe they would get off on witnessing your dripping pussy or the rise and fall of your chest as you climax. I even think they would delight in watching your eyes roll back when my cock fills you so fully you can't fit any more of me inside you."

A shot of fear jolted through your heart, forcing the muscle into overdrive. Yet, despite this, your body still reacted more illicitly. Just like his words, you felt a renewed throbbing between your legs.

Would you be comfortable with a stranger observing? You doubted it. But there was something about the way he described the scenario that made you wonder if he would allow it to occur regardless.

"Are you comfortable with others seeing us undressed?" you challenged, breathless while staring at your shirt on the wooden floor.

Vash's fingers traced along your spine, moving slowly and purposefully. Their touch felt scorching, like searing lava against your flesh.

"No," he murmured into your ear. You observed him as his gaze descended, fixating on your chest. The band of your bra tightened, pressing uncomfortably against your skin before loosening. The black cups that held your breasts released, leaving you fully exposed. Your nipples were painfully erect.

When he caught sight of your hardened peaks, his tongue drifted across his lower lip as if he was salivating at the sight. "Do you want to know what I would do?" he questioned. "I would allow them to watch. I would let them watch me fuck you. They would watch as my cock fills every one of your holes and watch you cry with intense orgasms. And then, I'd fucking kill them. With my cock still wet from your cum, I would slice their throats for daring to lay their eyes upon us."

The fear within you constricted, forming a sharp tip that seemed capable of bursting the fragile balloon of sanity you clung to.

"You're insane," you gasped.

This time, he chuckled, his deep laughter sending a shiver straight to the apex of your thighs. "You were aware of this, and yet you asked for it," he murmured absentmindedly.

His focus pulled away, and his hands explored your stomach, delicately tracing the lines of your scars as if he found them captivating. Eventually, he cupped your breasts, his large hands making them appear smaller, barely contained within his grasp. He was a monster. Inside and out. Yet, despite all logic, you couldn't ignore the fact that other than your panties, your jeans had become wholly soaked, too. It seemed impossible for the body to experience both hatred and desire simultaneously.

He forcefully squeezed your breasts, causing you to scream out of pain.

"Be a good girl and scream louder," he ordered before relinquishing his hold on your breasts and moving his hands towards your jeans. You were swamped by confusion and a sense of dread. You knew this was all so terribly wrong. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him as he hooked his thumbs on either side, pulling your jeans down. First, he assisted you in removing your shoes and effortlessly slipped the jeans off, setting you completely free.

You remained clad only in your wet black panties. Swallowing hard, your heart raced as you surveyed your reflection. Vash, on the other hand, remained fully clothed, his eyes examining every angle of your undressed form. He looked as if he couldn't decide, unsure where to begin.

You resisted the impulse to cover yourself. The act of hiding felt more humiliating than standing nearly bare before an attractive man.

"You need to undress as well," you insisted. There was no way you were going to be the only one left vulnerable and exposed.

Finally, he came out from behind you and stood directly before you. It felt more real when you were not looking at them through a glass mirror. Yet, you couldn't pretend that your pussy wasn't weeping for him and that you were not anticipating the feel of him inside of you. You weren't a victim this time, as you were the mastermind behind this ill-advised situation.

"If you want that, love, then you'll have to be the one to do it," he declared with a raised voice. He regarded you skeptically as if he doubted your willingness to undress him. And there was no doubt in your mind he understood the effect that look had on you. The jerk was well aware of your inability to resist a challenge.

You reciprocated the same level of respect he had shown you. Slowly and delicately, you undressed him, purposefully grazing your fingers against his skin, earning your own shivers and growls of impatience.

You took off his shirt and stared at his scarred and rugged skin. His scars still caused him pain, evident by his reaction when your fingertips brushed over them, causing him to tense and bare his teeth. It wasn't physical pain; these scars had already healed. Yet, they resembled icebergs—seemingly formidable and commanding on the outside, yet concealing something far more significant and menacing beneath the surface. They had the power to sink someone to the depths of their darkest desires, much like the Titanic. These scars wounded him deeply within, and you were genuinely curious about the stories behind each one.

In the areas without scars, there were tattoos. The most notable tattoo was a giant maze extending from his neck to his right arm. You didn't know, but he had a few small tattoos here and there, too.

"You didn't cover any of your scars with tattoos," you quietly observed, running your finger along the maze lines. The tattoos intentionally avoided the raised skin, as if deliberately respecting the scars.

"I don't hide from my failures," he asserted. However, his physical beauty extended beyond his failures. His body was filled with well-defined muscles, strong without being too bulky. His physique made it clear that he could kill you with his pinky without looking like he took steroids for breakfast. And if that alone didn't turn your knees to jelly, the thick veins roping from his neck, down his robust arms, and into his large hands were enough to unravel you.

He was… fucking phenomenal.

He observed you with great care, his eyes burning with intensity as you examined him. He was nearly vibrating beneath your slow perusal, so you moved on and resumed your torture. It took a total of zero seconds before he was bristling with the need to fuck you. You felt so much power in your fingertips, and you couldn't help but wonder how much more powerful you would be if he had a feeling for you.

With every inch of his skin revealed, you grew shakier and wetter. It seemed unjust for someone to possess such flawless allure despite the visible imperfections and scars. If anything, the evident signs of the hardships his body had endured only made him that much more edible.

You choked on air as you lowered his pants, his hard cock jutting out from the confines of his pants. So this was what accepting death via dick looked like.

Once he was completely undressed, you took a big step back and examined the reflection in the mirror. Your gaze fixated on his muscular thighs, firm and shapely buttocks, and sculpted back that had enticed you since that doomed morning. You couldn't help but fantasize about running your hands all over them. And then there was the most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen.

You wanted to run away. Far, far away. To put as much distance as possible between yourself and this man. It was clear to you that he would bring about your downfall after tonight. You could taste it on your tongue.

"Are you scared?" he asked in a low, dark voice. His gaze bore into you, his expression inscrutable.

"Yes," you responded honestly. His smile, almost breathtaking, nearly weakened your resolve. It felt unnatural how strikingly beautiful he was. Without a doubt, he was the embodiment of darkness. Now, more than ever, you were convinced he was the fucking devil.

"You ought to be," he warned, his voice tinged with menace. Without thinking, you took another step backward, but he made no move to impede your retreat.

"Get on your knees, love," he commanded in a sinister tone. You hesitated, uncertain whether to obey or search for the common sense you seemed to have misplaced somewhere along the way into this living room and make a swift escape.

"Don't test me," he growled, his face dropping into a stern expression. Lowering his jaw, he glared down at you with an intimidating gaze. The threat in his face frightened you, causing your juices to dampen your thighs.

You dropped to your knees with a jolt, the impact causing pain. It was exactly what you both desired. He tilted your head back forcefully, making you gaze up at him. His cock brushed against your cheek, serving as a forewarning of what lay ahead.

"You enjoy being a naughty girl, don't you? You like the thrill of testing me because you get off on the fear I instill in you. You're a silly little girl toying with danger," he taunted, his face contorted into a cruel snarl. Tears welled up in your eyes as he held your head firmly, burning just like the inferno of ire and lust in his eyes.

"Tell me, love, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?"

"Better," you hissed, feeling the dormant resentment towards him resurface. Something very dark and dangerous shuttered over his eyes. He raised an eyebrow, and instantly, you recoiled inward. It was a lie. You both knew it.

Good girls don't lie. That was the first thing you learned when you were put in a religious school as a child. The second lesson was not to trust the devil and his influence. However, they forgot to mention the crucial advice of not provoking him once you had fallen under his sway. Perhaps that was considered basic common fucking sense.

Your lip quivered as you scolded yourself for your foolishness. Feelings of bitterness and mistrust simmered just below the surface. You couldn't fathom why you entertained the idea of allowing Vash to dominate and have his way with you without putting up a fight.

"Open your fucking mouth, bad girl. Right now, or I'll make you gag on my cock," he demanded, his voice dripping with threat.

This time, you obeyed. The moment your lips separated, Vash forcefully thrust the tip into your mouth, pushing it deep down your throat. He hissed through his teeth, accompanied by another feral growl.

You whimpered and then gagged as he pushed his dick deeper. It felt like rigid steel wrapped in smooth fabric, but the sleekness did little to alleviate the pain. He was too thick and too long for your mouth.

Tears instantly flooded your eyes and streamed down your cheeks as he continued to penetrate you forcefully. As a reflex, you grasped onto his sturdy thighs, attempting to create some distance. However, he swiftly seized both of your hands, clasping them together in one of his while maintaining his grip on your head with the other. He held your bound hands high against his abdomen, giving the appearance of a woman kneeling in prayer, worshipping the very embodiment of evil.

"Suck it. Now," he growled.

You complied with his command, hoping he'd ease up. You sucked hard, creating a hollow in your cheeks while running your tongue smoothly over the prominent vein on the underside of his length.

"That's it, love," he exhaled, granting you a momentary respite. However, within seconds, he pulled you back towards him, taking control of your movements as he guided your head back and forth while you continued to suck him with your mouth.

He murmured words of encouragement and let out deep, pleasure-filled groans as he became increasingly assertive. Every syllable and moan that left his lips fueled your growing desperation to satisfy him.

"Let's see. Your high school sweetheart, Eren Yeager, he was better than me, huh?"

Your eyes widened in confusion, unsure of how Vash knew him and fearing this conversation's direction. "I highly doubt he was better than me. Who else?" he emphasized the last word by thrusting deeper into your throat, causing you to choke. After a few seconds of struggling, he relented. "Satoru Gojo, Cloud Strife, that boy Zuko..." he continued, listing off every man you had gone on a date with. Admittedly, the number wasn't significant, but it felt a lot considering the peril in which you had just placed their lives. He abruptly jerked your head back, granting you a brief moment to catch your breath as he uttered, "I will enjoy killing each and every one of them, love."

Before you could even form a response or take another gasp of air, he resumed choking you with his cock. Your vision began to blur at the edges as he thrust deeply into your throat. No matter how much you gagged and fought against him, he only became harder and more aroused.

"What if I cum in your mouth, and you swallow it to make your father proud?"

For a brief moment, you glared up at him, your hatred burning brighter than any trace of desire. He smiled, or rather revealed his teeth, as he noticed the anger reflected in your eyes.

"You want it, but you won't damn well receive it. You haven't earned that privilege just yet."

Without any warning, he forcefully yanked your head back, his cock popping free. He gripped your chin firmly, raising you until you were on your tiptoes.

"Vash, please," you whimpered, your vision hazy from tears and your chest constricted from the lack of air. Uncertain of what you were pleading for, whether it was your own life or the lives of the innocent men you had unknowingly condemned to death.

"That's such a good girl," he praised. "I love it when you're scared and begging."

Just as you believed you could finally inhale, he swiftly stole your breath again. His lips closed tightly against yours in a captivating kiss, electrifying your senses. Your nails dug into his chest, provoking a deep growl from him as he dominated your mouth with his own. He claimed he wouldn't kiss you, but the energy between you crackled and exploded, causing both of you to drink from each other fervently. The kiss ignited sparks of fire and filled your tongue with the mingling flavor of bitter whisky.

Poison had never tasted so good.

As your tongues battled for control, he firmly grasped your waist and yanked you upwards. Your legs naturally wrapped around his trim waist just as you felt the cool glass pressed against your back. The mirror's chill threatened to send shivers curling for epilogue through your body, but the heat radiating from his body against yours was scorching hot.

A sudden, piercing bite of pain on either side of your hips caused you to gasp into his mouth. With a quick, forceful pull, he tore your panties away from your body, leaving the shredded fabric caught somewhere between your bodies.

He withdrew and positioned the head of his cock at the entrance. "Spread your pussy for me, love," he commanded.

"No!" you shouted. "There's absolutely no way I'll let you fuck me without a condom!"

"Why bother? You already have an IUD, so clearly, my spawns won't have any chance of impregnating you," he retorted, his tone laced with heavy sarcasm.

"How the hell do you know that?" you exclaimed, swiftly hitting his chest.

"Milly."

So the nurse examined you, checking if Knives had raped you or not.

"I don't want your STDs!" you spat out angrily.

"Who the fuck do you think I am?" Vash demanded, his eyes ablaze with anger.

"A manwhore!" you said.

He pushed you closer to the mirror while glancing between you and his reflection. "I haven't been with anymore since Nick!"

"Oh, C'mon! You fucked a girl on your birthday!"

"I didn't," he said, then relaxed his hold, letting you free.

"But Bradd—"

"I helped that abused waitress to run away," he said quietly.

You tried to speak up and ask him to just fuck you, but the anger on his face silenced you. Just as he was about to move away, you halted him and obeyed his instructions.

You spread your legs and, grabbing his cock, guided it into your entrance. It was belittling when he knew you weren't supposed to want it. And as a consequence of offending him, he was going to make you show him how much you wanted him. By spreading your pussy and inviting him in.

Gods, you hated him.

His hands tightened on your hips painfully. You knew that you would wake up tomorrow with bruises shaped like handprints, and a part of you dreaded that. The imprints left on your skin would make it impossible to forget what happened.

"Do not ever label me as a manwhore," he warned just before he forcefully brought you down onto his awaiting dick.

"Ah!" you cried out, your hands poised to push him away from your chest. He was too much, stretching you wider than you'd ever been. Your eyes rounded into giant saucers as you whimpered in response to the extreme pressure.

You sensed his grith slipping through your fingers as he worked himself deeper. "Stop! It's too big," you gasped.

"Well, tough luck for you," he cooed mockingly, his tone husky and tight. "This is the consequence of being a naughty girl, isn't it?"

When you remained silent, he forcefully pulled you down on his dick harder, causing you to let out another pained whimper.

"Answer me," he barked.

"Yes!" you exclaimed, breathless, as you tightly shut your eyes in response to the invasion.

"Will you behave now?"

"Yes," you mewled desperately. The pain was morphing into something much more intense and breathtaking.

He slid out and then eased back in with a gentler but still angry motion. It felt as if your body was on the verge of exploding. This wasn't natural to be so goddamn full.

He withdrew until only the tip remained, and then he slammed his entire length inside of you. It went so deep that you felt it all the way up to your throat.

You cried out, your voice cracking under the swell of emotions welling up in your chest. It didn't feel right at all.

"Damn, love, I can barely fucking fit."

Perhaps that's why it felt as if he was ripping you apart. He began with deliberate and powerful movements, forcefully thrusting before pulling out at a painfully slow pace, only to slam back inside you once more.

You felt your body starting to yield, eagerly taking him in as he ravished you with each thrust. He widened his stance, using the mirror for support, causing your stomach to tighten in anticipation of the damage he was about to exert on your organs.

Shockwaves scattered throughout your nerve endings as he quickened his pace, roughly fucking you against the mirror while loud noises you never made in your life fell from your lips.

The pleasure was blinding, and the sight of him moving in and out between your fingers heightened the strong desire stirring in the pit of your stomach.

He let you down, swiftly turned you around, and wasted no time before thrusting back inside you. You closed your eyes and pressed your palms against the mirror to find stability.

"Look at us in the mirror," he demanded roughly. It required significant effort, but you pried your eyes open and let them wander over the mirror. It was too much— watching him drive himself inside you so deeply.

Your eyes were partially closed, and your face displayed undeniable bliss. Then, you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, and your gazes met. A torrent of emotions washed over you, causing your heart to sink, and you quickly averted your eyes. It was the most euphoric experience you ever had.

Your eyes met his again, and a sly smile spread across his face. He leaned in, his lips gently skating across the crook of your neck as he watched you slowly come apart at the seams, all the while maintaining a mischievous grin.

"Now, confess, have you ever been fucked by a man like me?"

You nibbled on your lip and shook your head, resisting the temptation to roll your eyes in sheer exasperation.

He abruptly halted, causing an involuntary, embarrassing scream to leave your lips. He pushed your back down to readjust your positions, and the moment he hit that particular spot, your legs trembled uncontrollably.

"Oh my God," you moaned, unable to prevent your eyes from rolling back this time.

"That's right, love. I am your fucking God," he growled, and then you felt his teeth sinking into your neck.

Your stomach tightened as an orgasm built rapidly, threatening to overpower you. It felt as if a furious Poseidon resided within, conjuring a destructive tsunami that seemed poised to engulf you.

The mirror began to shudder from the force of his intense thrusts violently. It seemed as if it could shatter at any moment, yet you were unable to bring myself to care. Just as you were on the brink of reaching climax, he pulled completely out.

You whimpered, feeling the sudden emptiness almost as if it were painful. "What—"

He took a step back and gestured towards the floor. Your knees wobbled, your balance disrupted by the sharp pleasure throbbing between your thighs. "Get on your hands and knees," he instructed.

You didn't protest, primarily because the absence of the orgasm was distressing, and your legs could barely bear your weight any longer. Frustration welled up, evident in the tearful corners of your eyes, but you suppressed your snarky remark. You knew that he would only escalate your punishment further.

You expected him to enter you once more from behind, but instead, he swiftly slid his hands between your legs and gripped you from underneath your hips. He lifted you, causing your knees to lose contact with the ground, and you had to quickly catch yourself to prevent from falling face-first.

You felt his warm breath fanned across your pussy just moments before his teeth latched onto your sensitive clit. You yelped as pain and pleasure mingled. However, he wasted no time in lavishing attention on your throbbing bundle of nerves, skillfully using his mouth to suck while lapping at your dripping cunt.

He hummed, sending delightful vibrations resonating through your core. "You taste so fucking good," he murmured before teasingly flicking his tongue against your sensitive clit. You gazed up shamelessly, observing him feast on you from behind. You adjusted your head to obtain the best view of him on his knees, hungrily devouring your pussy as if he were famished.

The impending orgasm resurfaced, now even more imminent than before. You were unable to grind back into Vash's face like you desired, leaving you utterly defenseless against the relentless assault of his tongue.

"Vash, please," you begged, your eyes crying with pleasure.

"Do you want to come?" he asked; his voice was breathless and unsteady.

"Yes," you pleaded with a groan.

Vash pulled away, and in frustration, you screamed, pounding your fist against the floor. Overwhelmed by fury from being denied for the second time, you struggled against his grip, thrashing in defiance. He chuckled at your futile attempt.

"You motherfucking ass—"

He abruptly halted your outburst by seating himself inside you, causing his balls to smack against the sensitive nub. You choked on your words, this angle allowing him in far deeper than before. He seized your hair, forcefully pulling your head back, making you look directly into the mirror in front of you. From this angle, you could witness him vigorously fuck you.

"You want to cream all over my cock, love?"

You nodded your head frantically.

He responded with a smile. "Have you been a good girl?"

Once again, you nodded unsteadily.

"Then fucking say it," he urged, calling out your name.

As his gravelly voice pronounced your full name, you instinctively clenched around his cock.

"I'm a good girl," you breathed, too far gone to feel anything but blinding lust. He molded his body against your back, spearing through your tightening pussy. The hand in your hair slid down to wrap around your throat, exerting a firm grip, while his other hand splayed across your stomach. Your vision became hazy, and finally, the tsunami of orgasm crashed through you.

You emitted an ear-piercing scream that nearly rattled the mirror. Vash's name spilled from your lips in a frenzied chant as your entire world exploded into myriad fragments.

"Fuck! That's it, love. Your pussy is incredibly tight. Milk my cock," Vash managed to say through gritted teeth. He concluded with a growl, his hips trembling as he slammed into you for one last time, filling you with his cum until there was no room left inside of you. Your combined fluids trickled down your thighs as you lay on the floor, panting and breathless. Your body convulsed with aftershocks, even after the biggest orgasm you had ever experienced subsided.

You couldn't fucking breathe, let alone move or form coherent thoughts. None of it felt normal. Not a single bit.

Your breath hitched, and your teeth clenched from the feel of him sliding out of you.

Disregarding Vash's presence, you hurriedly scrambled to dress yourself.

As you approached your shoes, a muttered "shit" caught your attention from behind. Turning around, you found Vash staring at his phone, his face etched with a serious expression. He was dressed in nothing but his black boots and loosely fastened pants, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the well-defined V disappearing beneath the fabric. The glow from his phone emphasized the muscles flexing against his smooth skin, with scars and intricate black tattoos only enhancing his raw allure. The veins coursing through his hands and arms were visibly bulging, and if you weren't already leaning against the mirror, his overwhelming presence would have caused you to collapse. That masterpiece of jagged scars and rugged edges had ravished you completely, leaving you breathless.

You closed your eyes and leaned against the glass, seeking respite. Suddenly, you felt the warmth of Vash's hand on the back of your neck, causing your eyes to snap open. You realized he was pulling you closer, resting your head against his chest and draping his shirt over your shoulders. Assuming that this would be the last time you permitted his touch, you allowed him to slip his hands beneath your knees and neck, hoisting you effortlessly into his arms.

Exhaustion had enveloped you so entirely that his words, "Let's bring you to our room," evaded your weary ears.

Taglist: @julk4e - @lune010 - @beanibon - @emptybrain01 - @changingchances @awkwardchick87 @enchantedforest-network

[flowerandthesongstress]

Hi I'm dropping by to share an opinion that might be controversial, but might just as well be common and widespread among the 'loved this show as a child, rewatched as an adult' crowd. I'm not sure. I'm always out of the loop. All of the loops.

Anyway.

Recently I'd learned that my SO never watched the X-Files, the show that was my favorite when growing up (yes, I should not have been watching it, but oh well...frankly, I had much worse sources of childhood trauma in my life) and we decided to amend the fact.

Over the course of a few months, we went through approximately 85 to 90% of the episodes. We skipped a few insignificant ones. With insects.

Some short remarks first. One: all of my favorite episodes still hold up and some go twice as hard and Clyde Bruckman goes ten times as hard. Two: Mark Snow might have been in an abusive and mutually codependent relationship with an oboe. Three: "Everything Was Inspired By The X-Files" seriously, so much media in the last two decades has just been 'a person who watched the x-files when growing up is now writing stuff' and I'm not immune ... Four: this video essay that I found after we'd gotten to 'JS's from OS' and I was like "waaaaait I minute, this is... postpomo? in 1996? released around the time Infinite Jest was published? when metamodernism still was little more than a concept in DFW's head? what the heck?" and looked it up to see if my brain was wishful-hallucinating, and found this video essay. Five: when watching the show for the first time, I only knew three names: Anderson, Duchovny, Carter. Like, 'Hello yes this a cool scary TV program with The Anderson and The Duchovny as my Mom and Dad, and all of this program in its entirety is made by The Carter'. That was it. Because only those three names were translated in the credits.

And now I'm going to ask you to please don't kill me. Please. I'm going to die, I promise, I just don't want to be killed right now because of a possibly controversial X-files opinion. This is just a personal opinion. You are free to not share it, you are free to hate me, but could we please avoid conflict and arguments? I love you. I was drugged.

Anyway x 2.

Here's the most important thing I realized now that I'd rewatched the show in English as an adult who'd loved the X-Files as a minor (and watched it dubbed), and then went on to receive a university education that very specifically gives her a shmauthority to determine if a writer is actually a crap writer...

...Chris Carter is actually a crap writer.

He's uuuhm. He's bad at writing. Wait, no, that's unfair. He is what I like to call 'painfully mediocre'. Slightly paraphrasing a quote from my other favorite American show: he's every kid on the playground that didn't get picked on. He's a business casual potted plant, a human white sale. He's VH1, Robocop 2, and Back to the Future 3. He's the center slice of a square cheese pizza. Actually, that sounds delicious. Vince Gilligan is the center slice of a square cheese pizza. He's Jim Belushi.

He's just so. painfully. mediocre as a writer. Some of his choices were BAFFLING. Not just bafflingly bad, but simply baffling in a 'how and why and why would anyone ever think this is a compelling idea' sense. Some moments made me wonder if there's zero self-awareness or negative self-awareness.

Chris Carter would hardly make you mad with how bad he is. He's seldom bad in a memorable way. He was cliche when those cliches weren't yet cliches. When the TV tropes website didn't exist. When metamodernism still was little more than a concept in one bandana-covered, troubled head.

He attempted three other shows. All of them were canceled. Two of them he had to wrap up in the X-Files, and he wrapped them up with as much poise as I wrap burritos when high. One was canceled before airing, but he put a piece of it into an X-Files episode: a minor character in the cold open watches and praises this show, so enraptured that he doesn't hear his daughter being kidnapped by a serial killer or abducted by aliens or neither or both, tbh I'm still not 100% sure what happened and what didn't happen, because that episode was written by Chris Carter. The highest rated episode out of all the episodes in all of the three canceled shows has Darin Morgan's writing credit, and it's a sequel of an X-Files episode. Where Jose Chung just goes 'you know what? this sucks' and dies.

Yes, I did enjoy The Lone Gunmen, but guess who has the most writing credit? Yes, Vince Gilligan. Perhaps, executives didn't really understand and didn't bother looking into why X-Files was such a popular and beloved show? And kept on greenlighting Carter's pet projects and then going: Wait, Where Money? Probably. That's how I imagine the reason. Thing is, the X-Files was so beloved and popular not because of Carter's obsession with Christian symbolism and conspiracies and apocalypse and ambiguity so vague and lazy and full of itself that I felt vicarious embarrassment, not because of his narcissism God complex that is manifested on screen in such a way that watching it feels exactly and very specifically like grinding your teeth while there's a bit of slightly wet sand on them, and not because people ached to learn how aliens would colonize Earth. Characters. We loved the characters. We loved the relationships in the show. And we loved the CRAZY and the over-the-top. And all of the Human, all the Silly, and the Funny, and the Tragically Funny.

Every single episode I remember loving the most, and every single episode that tops every single 'bestest X-Files episodes evah' list, has the writing credit of either Darin Morgan (Humbug, Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose, Jose Chung's From Outer Space, War of the Coprophages), or Vince Gilligan (Soft Light, Pusher, Bad Blood, Small Potatoes, Paper Hearts, Meme— you know what, this is easier), or Glen Morgan + James Wong (Squeeze, The Field Where I Died, Never Again, Musings of the Cigarette-Smoking Man). Not Carter. Although according to a WaPo article I read, Carter was insanely controlling and everything had to go through him. Duh. :-\ Not to mention, his entire writing room was a sausage fest, apparently? And Gillian Anderson finally got to write an episode only in season seven, when the show was about to be foreclosed by Fox and turned into a movie franchise (never happened, alas), and around the 'f*ck it who cares anymore we're rich and uncancellable' time when Gilligan was allowed to write the episode where Mulder solved existential nihilism via freeing a genie? Not surprised.

Meanwhile, Carter himself had written the episodes I was looking forward to the least during this rewatch. And my SO would be like: wow, you're rolling your eyes so hard I'm worried about your vision, should we maybe skip this one..? And I'd be like: no-no imma just do some chores, I really wanna do some chores, I'll be nearby, yes please keep on watching babe, no need to pause, I'll keep the bathroom door open to hear everything while I do my favorite very entertaining things like clean the toilet and scrub the shower and wash the litterbox.

Hmmm? What's that? Post-modern Prometheus is highly rated? Hoo boy :-| Can we please not go there... Also, even without all of the problematic aspects of PMP: 1) even a broken clock can do postmodernism is right twice a day, 2) no, it is not a well written episode; it's loved because of its subtly familiar nostalgic visuals and because it attempts to imitate Darin Morgan's signature style with about as much success as I had while trying to imitate Lovecraft when my English was at ~C1 level and then I started crying and went to Postmodernism and told him 'please mister postmodernism sir, please save me by making it all into a long setup to a punchline'.

Anyway x 11:21.

This whole realization made me dislike the Auteur theory even more. My relationship with it was already so hostile that we've been sending each other death threats every month since I was seventeen.

Yes, I should be fair(er). Chris Carter's primary role is NOT that of a writer, but a producer and director and *cringes* shOwRuNnEr. He was the one who pitched the show to Fox, was rejected, and fought for it until they agreed. Without him, the X-Files would not have existed at all. And all bad jokes aside, this show helped me a lot when I had no one and nothing else to help me. I was indeed in a parasocial relationship with its leads. They were my TV parents. Thing is, everything you love about the X-Files' writing... like me, any other casual viewer might discover that all of these things were not done by Carter. Yet he was getting all of the credit.

This is a very important, and seemingly obvious but not really, factoid that applies to a lot of shows and movies. The person you give credit for a thing is often not the person who should be getting it. If you're rolling your eyes right now and calling me agent Obvious: may I remind you, I'm permanently out of the loop about everything. EVERYTHING.

I'm not going to devolve this into a rant about Auteur theory...Because then I'd be here all day or until I start foaming at the mouth. And I'm sure everything has been said without me and before me, anyway. I'm not even going to write a more detailed analysis to defend my views regarding the 'painfully average'. Shmviews.

I've said what I wanted to say.

This rewatch was an interesting experience.

"Skinner wants our report in one hour. What are you going to tell him?" — "What do you mean what am I going to tell him? I'm going to tell him exactly what I saw. What are you going to tell him?" — "I'll tell him exactly what I saw".

[chimggukchim]

UNHINGED AND SNOWBALLING

I’ve been in this fandom since early 2017 (5 ½ years). That’s way shorter than a lot of ARMYs but it’s also way longer as well. So I think I’ve consumed enough content in real time to have the opinion I’m about to share.

Taekookers are increasingly becoming louder and more unhinged by the passing day in this fandom.

And THAT is a truly frightening thing.

Let me explain…

At the beginning of my ARMYdom, I knew nothing of shippers and shipping except for what ships were in the fictional world. I never imagined anyone ever ‘shipped’ real people (for fun or otherwise).

So colour me confused when a Jikook video popped up on my YT page. Anyway, after trying to avoid anything and everything related to shipping where BTS members were concerned, I eventually watched a VLive where Jeon Jungkook made me finally question the nature of his relationship with Park Jimin. And I essentially went down that Jikook Rabbit/Chicky hole.

For a good length of time, I read/heard/saw nothing about Taekook as a romantic pair.

Namjin? Umm…yeah. Sope? Obviously. Taekook? Negative.

Hell, I had never even seen any content which remotely looked like Taekook were anything other than those BFF’s who are inseparable and are a collective menace to those around them.

Until I did. I can’t remember exactly but I’m guessing it might have been the G.C.F. in Osaka. Some ‘fans’ were suddenly loud about Tae and JK. But they were definitely in the minority.

That was in 2018.

And over the years, the Taekook loudness, from my experience, has gone through these phases:

Ø  Hoping for content

Ø  Celebrating content

Ø  Overanalysing content (that really was mostly non-content)

Ø  Subtly throwing barbs about Jimin

Ø  Blatantly throwing barbs about Jimin

Ø  Calling Jikook complete fan service

Ø  Dubbing Bang PD the greatest fanfic writer

Ø  BigHit is keeping Taekook apart and the boys are miserable.

Ø  Jimin is a borderline molester who always makes Jungkook uncomfortable (save JK!)

Ø  Taekook have had it and are now rebelling against the evil machine and giving hidden content in plain sight.

Ø  Oh, but wait! Their relationship is only for them so they keep their moments private.

Ø  Jimin the homewrecker and sl*t is keeping Taekook apart. He and Bang PD are forcing JK to do fan-service cuz it pays the bills.

Ø  Completely, 100% making stuff up about dates with absolutely NO proof but being loud about it so everyone believes.

Ø  Oh, someone showed Jikook some love so let’s harass them until they either go private, delete or deactivate.

Ø  Jimin is the scum of the Earth – Taekook REAL – Jikook FANSERVICE

Ø  I HATE JIMIN – TAEKOOK IS REAL – JIKOOK IS FANSERVICE

Ø  JIMIN IS A ****** - SUPPORT TAEKOOK OR ELSE – FANNNSERRVICCEE (enter trucks/e-mails) – F*CK YOU, DELETE!!!

 Needless to say, their presence on social media (and in real life, I will never forget that b!tch at the airport with that damn sign where the boys could see!) has only gotten louder and more disturbing as the years have progressed.

And I have seen it.

And this is worrying to me because if this behaviour continues to go unchecked by this fandom, I can only see it escalating.

And eventually meandering into actual dangerous territory – the frightening part.

Because with the way they’ve been moving lately, I am truly terrified that there is a very real possibility that these psychopaths could have intentions of physically harming Jimin and/or Jungkook. Because they see our mochi as an obstacle.

And if ONE was brave (and f#%%ing STUPID) enough to physically show up with a sign to the airport, what’s stopping some truly disturbed psycho from physically approaching Jimin in some form or fashion?

So here I am praying for the boys’ safety and hoping it never comes to this.

…But the thought is sobering and chilling.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How long would it take the volturi to solve the Kira case?

Fascinating question, anon, I like it. So much so you get answered much earlier than you normally would be.

Shinigami and the World of Twilight

In Twilight there are few supernatural creatures that remain in our world. There's vampires, children of the moon, and the shapeshifter. However, these need not be the only supernatural creatures.

There have likely been mass extinctions (seen in Children of the Moon) and there may be more creatures that are so uncommon that we just don't see any hint of them.

Death Note's Shinigami easily fall into this category.

They live in another dimension, and in the human world (which they rarely visit in person), they're invisible to the eye save for those who have touched their death note. Their methods of killing are so unobtrusive, (heart attacks by default or whatever method they please), that they're unlikely to be noticed unless someone (i.e. Light) is trying to make a point. And in the grand scheme of things, Shinigami also kill relatively infrequently, meaning that any odd death gets passed off as that: an odd death. Also being forbidden to kill for the sake of a human being means that the deaths tend to be a) random b) whatever amuses them the most. That'd be hard to pick a pattern up of.

Shinigami exist in such a manner that I doubt even the Volturi are aware of them.

Some Ground Rules For the Post

I don't see why vampires would have an innate ability to see Shinigami that humans lack. As a result, the Volturi are in the same boat everyone else is, they can't see a Shinigami unless they touch that Shinigami's notebook.

Also, per the manga, the Kira case takes place from 2003-2010, meaning that as Twilight is happening (or before if Aro and the gang somehow solve this faster than L would), the world is mired in the Kira case.

Bella would certainly have been talking about it in Twilight. As would Edward, as he once had his Kira foray as well if on a much smaller scale and with a lot more junkies.

For the sake of my nitpicky need to have everything line up, we're going to push Death Note back a few years, to the beginning of Twilight.

Also, we're taking out L. If L's there, Aro can rely on him doing most of the work for him and only show up at the end to either murder or turn Light once L's narrowed down exactly who it is. That's not really fair per the ask, we have to leave the Volturi on their own.

With that, let's start.

Kira Makes His Appearance

Light's appearance was by no means subtle, he wanted to be noticed immediately, but he also didn't want to be noticed as a human being.

He made no televised announcements, left no messages, sent in no letters saying, "I am God, tremble before me". Instead, he let his silence speak.

He killed via heart attacks those he considered having broken the law to some heinous degree and then he sat back and watch. The public dubbed him Kira first and he only became a confirmed presence, something more real than a specter and a human who could be caught and brought to justice, when he murdered Lind L. Taylor in a public spectacle.

But this is a world without L, which means no Lind L. Taylor, instead we have Volturi and company in Volterra, utterly unconcerned with the human world.

Of course, they immediately notice once an undeniable pattern becomes clear. Human criminals are dying en masse of heart attacks, someone is making a message. The question is, to what end?

Aro wouldn't immediately think this is a human. This kind of power, this kind of gift, to be able to seemingly kill any person in the world at any time no matter the distance, is something too strong for a human. It would be unheard of to have this much power as a human.

Which means Aro believes he's looking for a vampire breaking the law.

The trouble is, it's only humans. The newborn wars are raging as always, every major coven he's ever heard of remains untouched, and there's been no noticeable uptick of deaths among the vampire population.

The only difference to them is that more of them are dangerously close to breaking the law, as crime rates are now plummeting as criminals live in terror of a spiteful god who might strike them down at any moment. This makes murders performed by vampires, in certain areas, far more noticeable.

(As Light is probably killing off known gang leaders, drug lords, etc. left and right, it's probably pandemonium in certain cities/countries. So vampires are probably alright in these places as I'm sure there's a lot of murder going on as survivors try to fill the power vacuum.)

Still, the Volturi have to put their heads together and try to think why any vampire would do this? To what end would they murder all these humans, in such a noticeable manner, and not even to eat their victims?

Aro concludes he's looking for a very young vampire, likely newborn, someone who still thinks of himself as very human and beholden to human society and who isn't aware of Volterra or else does not consider them a threat.

The Volturi Investigators

I think Aro's going to take the lead on this one. There's his gift, obviously, but he'd by far have the most interest.

Caius would be upset by the nerve of Kira, but he has no patience to track him down either when it becomes exceedingly obvious that this is going to be tricky. That, and it just doesn't seem like his thing to me. He's going to mostly sit this one out.

As for Marcus, he's not up to it.

Which makes Aro our lead detective.

The Investigation

Like L, the first thing they do is try to pinpoint the first deaths. There was the immediate deluge, of course, but that screams of confidence in this assassination gift.

Kira likely needed practice to perfect his gift or even realize he had it at all. There's going to be a first victim and it will probably be messy.

Given enough investigation, this probably leads Aro to Japan, where a man taking children hostage suddenly dies in the middle of the hostage situation when televised on national TV (though not outside of Japan). Given that Kira's a vampire, he could have moved from where he started quite easily, but Aro's willing to bet he's still somewhere in Japan.

What Aro does know is that Kira's keeping close to human society. Kira will be reading human papers, watching human television constantly, and appears to be very well-informed concerning his future victims. Both locally as well as internationally. Kira is likely still in a human settlement.

So, the first thing Aro does is look for an unusual number of casualties in any city or town in Japan. Kira will probably be in the newborn phase, may truly be only a few months old, and given his actions has probably been abandoned by his sire. Even if he has unusually high control, he's got to eat sometime, and thanks to his own actions the murder rate in major cities is way down.

Except... there's no uptick.

Crime, murder, in Japan is universally on a downwards trend. Major cities like Tokyo and small rural villages it's all the same, there's nothing noticeable.

Kira either isn't in Japan or... he's not eating.

Aro wonders if, perhaps this assassination gift of his, somehow feeds Kira. He is, after all, stealing life. He does it via heart attacks but maybe, somehow, the very act of stealing life is all Kira needs. Perhaps he doesn't have to drink blood due to this.

This blows Aro's mind for a few days but eventually he decides that, no, he's never heard of this. True, he's never heard of this gift either, but all vampires drink blood. Even Carlisle, who drinks animal blood, still drinks blood and suffers great negative effects for his avoidance of a natural diet.

Kira the vampire must still eat.

Which means, in the absence of any other explanation... Kira's not a vampire. Kira is likely a very gifted human.

Aro's mind is blown again because Holy Fuck, what a gift. Kira has blown Jane and Alec, who were only immediately noticeable in their own village, completely out of the water.

Except, the trouble is, neither Aro nor anyone else in the Volturi is a detective. Aro knows enough about human society to pay his taxes, to hire secretaries, and keep on the up and up, but he doesn't actually solve human crimes.

What he's looked for for thousands of years are vampires who break the law: and they have certain patterns, motivations, etc. that are more or less easy to spot. More, the entire point of his law is that, if Aro notices then it means you broke it. There are those that can and do fly under his radar.

How is he supposed to find a gifted human who can kill anyone in the world any time he pleases? From a brief perusal of Japanese news, there's no one immediately obvious as gifted or strange by local papers.

From earlier killings, Aro notes that Kira doesn't seem to kill between 8 in the morning to 4 pm, which might make him a student but also could mean he's working those hours.

And even if he is a student? How in the world is Aro supposed to touch the hand of every student in the entire country of Japan? Aro, who makes it a point not to navigate the human world.

Aro Calls in the Expert

When you want to hang out with the humans, there's only one vampire to call: Carlisle Cullen. As we're setting this in early Twilight, neither Eclipse nor Breaking Dawn have happened. To the Cullens, and Carlisle, Aro is simply a wise king and Carlisle's old friend.

And I'm sure Carlisle has been watching the Kira case very closely and is very disturbed by the entire thing. Kira's methods are very much not Carlisle's m.o.

Aro gives Carlisle what he knows: Kira's probably a gifted human, probably somewhere in Japan, probably in school, and has access to an extensive amount of human media.

That's it.

That's all Aro's got.

As for the police at large, without L, they haven't even narrowed it down to Japan yet.

Carlisle points out that, as much as he hangs out with humans, he doesn't think he could find the needle in the haystack either. However, he definitely wants to help in any way he can.

However, they do have something. Aro can't touch the hand of everyone in Japan, however, Edward can unobtrusively listen to a much larger segment of the population.

(Alice is off the table as she's best able to see the future of those close to her. Without knowing who Kira even is, let alone being close to him, she has no idea what he's going to even do next. She's likely very frustrated by this.)

Surely, whoever Kira is, he or she will be contemplating their victims more often than not. It's a long shot, but Edward might be able to find that needle in a haystack.

How's Edward Feel About That?

Edward's extremely conflicted. On the one hand, he doesn't want to disappoint Carlisle, and this is the first time Carlisle has ever asked him for a favor of this magnitude. And, in theory, Carlisle is right, all creatures are worthy of life.

On the other hand, Edward's on Team Kira. He thinks these rapist, murderer, pigs all deserve to die and is rooting for Kira to put the fear of God into them. Emphasizing this is when Bella was nearly raped in Port Angeles, but her would be rapist suddenly remembered himself and vomited in terror at the idea that he might be next should he get caught raping her. (As it is, Edward catches him, and a few weeks later he dies of a heart attack in prison. Edward pops the champagne).

More, if Edward goes to Japan, it means he has to leave Bella. Bella has proven she cannot survive without his personal protection. More, he's not sure he can survive without her presence. He can hardly contemplate the idea of leaving Bella, though he ultimately must, but to do so soon? He though he'd have a few more years, likely until they graduate, but now he and the family would have to move all the way to Japan in a matter of days.

Not to mention this would be letting Aro know that Edward's... not technically breaking the law but not not breaking the law either. Bella clearly suspects he's not human, she just doesn't have the right word.

And then to give Kira up to the Volturi? To have his activities stopped, to be turned and placed into the guard, or else murdered? Edward feels like he'd be selling out the brother he never knew.

But also Carlisle and imagining Carlisle's sad, disappointed, face.

Edward says yes but he really wants to say no.

He sneaks into Bella's room in the middle of the night, and for the first time, makes her aware of his presence. He tells her that regretfully he must leave her, he's off to do a man's work and catch Kira, and that they will never see each other again.

Then to Edward's horror and disappointment, Bella's completely on board for Edward catching Kira and thinks it's the noblest thing he could do. Charlie, being a chief of police, utterly despises Kira and Bella carries forward this sentiment. People deserve the due process of law, not being murdered off by some jackass conning people into believing he's a god.

Bella wishes him luck and tells him to return as soon as he can.

Edward just numbly says he won't be returning. This really is it. Goodbye forever.

Bella's utterly broken (though not nearly as much as canon as Edward didn't dump her for being boring).

Edward in Japan

Well, turns out, Edward's not actually that useful. There's a few problems.

First, there are a lot of people out there claiming to be Kira, or even convincing themselves that they're Kira. They do this to brag, to feel special, for any number of reasons.

None of them are Kira.

Second, Edward can only go out on cloudy days or at night, this severely limits when he can wander the streets and the people he'll run into. More, even if he starts with Tokyo, Tokyo's a big place. That's a lot of wandering to do.

Third, say that Edward does come across Light Yagami. Edward immediately dismisses him as being utterly insane. See, Light Yagami is talking to his imaginary friend, Ryuk, bickering about which apples they should buy from the store. Edward sees the giant clown demon that Light believes only he can see and goes, "Ah, another lunatic, cheerio."

Edward does not find Kira.

The Investigation Continues

Aro likely keeps Edward at it for months. It doesn't matter how long it takes, they're going to track down Kira and they're going to find him. It might take years, but dammit, they'll find him. Edward despairs that he will ever be able to go back to normal life.

Luckily for the gang, Bella saves their bacon.

Bella, ruminating on Edward's mission and on Kira, starts doing her own internet investigation. She doesn't get very far, but she does have those prophetic dreams to help her out.

Bella has a seriously weird dream about the moon, night gods, Kira, demons that look like giant crows, notebooks, and Light Yagami's face. Somehow, just as in canon with vampires, Bella's able to somehow put this together.

She calls up Edward (as they parted on more amiable terms, and so quickly, Edward did not yet disconnect his number) and tells him that Kira's name is Light Yagami, he's attending the University of Tokyo as the top student, and his murder weapon is an evil notebook.

How does she know this?

She looked it up on the internet.

Well, Edward isn't sure how to take that, but he also has nothing to lose. They find Light Yagami, Aro shakes his hand, and holy shit, Bella Swan was right. (Aro now decrees that she will be turned, much to Edward's horror and insistence that she has no idea he's a vampire, and has plans to recruit her for his guard).

What Are We Going to Do About Light?

Well, on the one hand, Aro discovered a new species today that he can do nothing about. Luckily, they seem to have their own laws that have more or less the same result as the Volturi laws: don't get noticed.

On the other hand, he's disappointed that this all-powerful gift was not a gift at all.

On the other other hand, Light does not seem to be an ordinary human. He's... lucky, for lack of a better term. No, it's more that he doesn't need luck, he somehow has such an awareness of everything around him that he assimilates it perfectly into his own plans. As if he can manipulate the very universe to his favor.

That's intriguing and useful, and in any other situation, Aro would jump on taking that chance and at least seeing what happens.

So the question becomes, does Aro turn Light or not? On the one hand, that's a useful gift, on the other hand, this kid's a loose cannon and a lunatic.

This Kira thing cannot continue, and Light, even as a vampire, would likely insist on continuing it somehow.

Luckily, there's a solution to this.

Aro burns the notebook, much to Ryuk's protesting despair. Light loses his memories of Ryuk, the notebook, and having been Kira. Before Light even knows what's happening, Aro turns him.

Three days later, Light wakes up a very confused vampire, gets the Volturi pitch with Chelsea there to help loosen bonds, and accepts a position in the guard to, oddly enough, stop those like Kira.

Aro's confused, but hey, they'll see how this Light thing works out. Aro also likely tells himself that he will watch for Ryuk trying to drop Light another notebook like a hawk.

The Kira case is never solved for humans: Kira just disappears one day as if he never existed. As for Light, I imagine he plots the destruction of the newborn armies, and Caius watches in utter fascination as this kid ruthlessly exterminates them all.

Bella is shortly turned into a vampire, much to Edward's despair, and due to the giant mess of this is also likely recruited to Volterra.

How Long Does This Take?

Given the need for the Volturi to first investigate, then Edward, I give them at least a year. Maybe a year and a half.

And really, it's Bella who saves their bacon.

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

When Two Lonely Hearts Come Together

Warnings: Non con, dub con, witchcraft, demons

Prompt: I am so glad I swallowed before you said that

Word Count:

Pairings: Dark!Demon!Winter soldier x Witch!reader

Summary: Witch reader decides o summon a demon to keep her company

~ indicates a time change

A/N: Wow it’s been a while. I’ll spare you the nitty gritty of finals and work and just say this was a challenge for @what-just-happened-bro​ ‘s challenge in July. Oops. Anyway enjoy! More coming soon ;)

XXX

The Winter Soldier. AKA, the demon of obsession. Every witch you knew avoided contacting his spirit, in fear of the power he possessed. Though nobody was completely sure, his powers could be positive. The risk, however, of him being a negative spirit was enough to deter anyone from trying.

You had agreed with them at a time, but now as your town that housed all the witches of the land burned down as you ran for safety into the woods, you realized you were completely alone. At first, you got by with no contact with others, but alienation isn’t healthy for anyone. Not even a witch.

You were a part of a community that was killed within the span of just a weekend after a local town pledged everyone you knew. You had barely escaped, using your mother's spirit’s warning as a sign to run before the fires even started. You looked back with horror. Witches could do evil, but more often than not they didn’t. Choosing a life of quiet rather than to stir a pot that couldn’t be undone. 

As you sat in the middle of the forest, the home to you for the past 2 years because of the freedom to move as your fear of staying anywhere too long progressed, laying out all the equipment you needed. Most of what you owned burned, but you saved what you could while remaking other necessities. Everything was ready for the séance, you just needed your blood. 

The blood would be a guide for what the Winter Soldier was to cling to. You. You needed a companion, one who would be obsessed with you. The desperation you had sunk to was enough to have your dead friends and mother clawing at your soul, warning you not to do this. You blocked them all out, knowing the only way to stop the pain you felt would be to play a game with the devil for one of his children. A risk that could cost you your soul to be trapped in an endless Hell.

The knife sliced through your hand and you held it over the star that you made in the dirt and out of rocks. You chanted the words you had memorized at the young age of 10, and as you did you felt the wind tousle your hair. Your eyes instinctively rolled to the back of your head as the words dripped from your lips like poison. In the wind, you could hear the sounds of tortured souls screaming for mercy as the gates of Hell opened to release one of their most prized possessions. 

Then, silence. The only thing you could hear was your heavy breaths, and you could feel the sun lowering to make way for the night. You slowly opened your eyes to see the star in the dirt spewed and your rocks clear of any blood you had just painted them with.

He’s here.

Your eyes searched the tall trees until your eyes landed on a man in black. He wore a mask that covered his face and his arm shined in the little light the sky was blessing you with.

You slowly stood up, grabbing the cup filled with herbs and other things to help the demon adjust to the world, while he followed your body’s every movement. You stalked closer to him, wary of his intentions, while showing your hands as a gesture you meant no harm. Who conjures a demon to fight them?

“Winter Soldier. I say your name therefore you hold no power over me. I’ve asked upon your spirit of obsession to accompany me in life.” You told the demon your name and stopped a few feet in front of him. He looked so alive; his eyes looked like you could drown in them. You handed him the cup and watched as he removed his mask to drink it. He grunted in pain before throwing the cup away.

“The fuck is in that?” The words came out rough, his throat sounded unused. 

You hesitated a moment. “Herbs.”

“And?” He could tell you were holding out.

“Crushed beetles.”

The soldier seemed to chuckle. “I am so glad I swallowed before you said that.” You laughed nervously with him, and a quiet beat followed.

“You’re lonely.” 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement, but you still answered it like it was. He still doesn’t move, and you felt so awkward. Now what?

You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, are you going to come from behind the tree?” You tried to smile, make this less excruciating. For once the silence you had lived in all your life was no longer acceptable to you.

“I haven’t seen anyone else since the year 934.” The soldier ignored you as he stayed perched behind the tree. His body was huge, not even the tall pine could hide him from you, though.

“Oh.” He didn’t need to explain the story to you, you knew it well. The Winter Soldier was released by a witch to reign destruction on the village. He killed millions in just one day. The witch was burned and the Winter Soldier’s story was passed down from generation to generation of witches. Some say the witch meant harm, others say it was the demon who decided how those people met their end. That’s why a mystery was connected with him for so long. 

“What do you want?”

You looked to the demon, finding an uneasy comfort in his eyes. “Everyone I have ever known is dead. I have no one left, they are just white lights and voices that dance around my dreams, gone as soon as I open my eyes.” 

The soldier stared at you a bit, considering you, before moving to stand fully in front of you. “So you want me to bring them back?”

“No, their spirits are at peace. All I want is someone to be with me until I can meet them in the afterlife. Your obsession can be me, I just want your company.”

The soldier had never heard anything like this before. Everyone contacted demons so they could do something for them. Who contacts one for a friendship? Something snapped inside him in that moment. He finally felt a calmness at the realization, and he smiled devilishly at the woman. 

You raised an eyebrow in confusion before he grabbed her by the forearm with his metal arm, burning her skin. You howled in pain, the sound of sizzles and pops filled your ears. Smoke rose from your arm. The demon finally let go, leaving a mark permanently on your skin.

“What the fuck was that for?” Demons couldn’t touch humans and vise versa. Not unless you wanted to feel like you’re sitting in Hell.

“You’re mine now.”

You looked at him confused before taking a better look at your arm. There you saw the mark of the Winter Soldier. 

“No, I own you. Like a genie in a lamp, I let you go so you do my bidding now.”

The demon laughed again. “Do you know who you contacted?”

Oh no. Had you messed up? “You’re not the Winter Soldier?”

Again, the demon let out a hearty laugh. “The Winter Soldier replaced the devil a long time ago, darling. I run the show now. And I make the rules.”

Your eyes got big. How could this be? No demon is so powerful that they could overthrow their leader. It’s unnatural, it’d be like God being overthrown.

“N-no, it’s not possible. I banish you back to Hell Winter Soldier.”

“That won’t work on me.”

You tried again. “Go back to the fiery pits from which you came from, leave this earth and all its inhabitants behind. I say your name, Winter Soldier, with power over you as I exile you back to Hell!”

You continued to chant as the wind picked up again, the pits of Hell opening to welcome back their ruler. Only, he isn’t going back. He just stood there, smiling at you. 

“Are you done?”

You shook your head. How is this possible? Before you could pick up the fruitless chants again, the soldier grabs you by the arms and drags you down to Hell with him. You watch in horror as the portal to your world closes before your eyes. 

~

Turns out, the Winter Soldier was right. He ran the underworld. Demons and their victims fell to their knees as he walked by them, bowing to their lord.

You saw fire and destruction, pain painted everywhere. They all cried for the mercy of death, but it fell to deaf ears as their tormentors continued their hatred.

You didn’t burn, you didn’t even feel hot, as you trailed behind the Devil as he pranced around his kingdom. His home was likable to the place a royal family would stay. A huge red castle with black accents here and there. Inside held the same colors. It smelled of ash, yet, it didn’t bother you a bit.

The Winter Soldier led you into a room with two thrones. A man stood near the thrones, metal cuffs around his bleeding ankles. Your eyes widened at him. He had dusty brown curly hair and beautiful brown eyes. He was gorgeous, what did he do to get caught up in a place like this?

“Lucifer.” The soldier nodded to the man and he quickly set his sad eyes down to the floor. Lucifer? As in? “I hope you can help my guest feel welcome, she’s come a long way.” He smiled at you, but you just glared back. The ex devil just nodded his head at his new master.

You were beckoned to sit on the smaller chair next to the bigger one where your captor sat. He turned to you after telling Lucifer to get him and his friend some food. 

“What do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do you like it? I designed it all myself, it wasn’t easy you know.” He smiled at you, showing you sincere adoration. You could’ve puked.

“It’s Hell.” His face dropped. 

“Obviously, but I think I’ve made it work quite nicely. You’ll get used to it?”

“What? No, you’re going to send me back to earth!”

“How could you be my queen on earth, silly?”

Queen?

“What? No, I can’t be your queen! I can’t stay here forever, I have to die on earth so my spirit can move on in the afterlife. So I can see my friends and family again.”

The soldier shrugged. “They can visit.”

You could’ve shouted. “No, they can’t! I’m- I- This isn’t why I summoned you.”

“Isn’t it though? You needed a companion, I needed a companion. It seems everyone is happy here.”

Lucifer returned with a tray of fruit and the soldier started eating the grapes. “Ugh, I’ve never been able to get used to mortal food. It’s all yours, my love.”

You pushed the tray from you as he tried to hand it to you. “I should’ve never called to you. I should’ve listened to what everyone said, your powers are used for evil. Not good.”

The Winter Soldier rolled his eyes. “Is that what everyone says about me? Because of what happened with that witch, huh? Well, let me tell you what happened. The bitch wanted to take over not only our realm but hers as well. I agreed to help her, but when I killed everyone to turn into demons she no longer wanted to comply. She sent me back to Hell, and that was the day I vowed to never be turned down again. She was the woman who was supposed to be my wife. My first love, and she slandered my name. Well, that’s why the cunt lives here forever, wishing she would’ve never double crossed me. After that, I started my plans to overthrow old Lucifer here so I could make the rules. I come and go as I please, wherever, whenever.” He looked accomplished with himself.

“Except Heaven.”

The soldier laughed so loud it boomed in the empty castle. “Heaven? Aw, you poor thing. You still believe in that place. God left everyone a long time ago, dear.”

That’s it. You had had enough. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Nope.”

“Now!”

“No! Look at your arm, you’re bound to me forever. If you leave my side down here, you’ll burn. As your soul leaves your body it’ll be cast down here with everyone else forever to be tortured. You’ll never get the chance to live with your loved ones. The only way you’ll see them is if you stay with me. I’ll take you wherever, but you will never be apart from me.”

Your eyes filled with tears. “Why?”

“Because I love you.”

~

The Winter Soldier’s hips crashed into yours at a hard pace, just how he liked it. Your moans mixed together in the room as you both reached your peaks together, his cum painting your velvety walls.

He reached up to feel your swollen belly and smiled into your neck. “They’re almost here.” 

You hummed in response. You had been stuck in Hell for the past year. You accepted everything slowly, but surely. Once you did, your husband showed you an unwavering amount of love. He let you see your family and friends, whom you hadn’t seen in years, and he let you travel to different realms. You never wanted for anything. He quickly, with you by his side as queen, took over all realms of the universe. Everything belonged to him, and in turn, to you.

Once you both learned of your pregnancy, you were nervous. You never thought you’d get married, let alone have children. The soldier helped you through it all, though, and your nerves were replaced with true joy as you thought about the triplets growing inside your belly. 

You never knew how much love could come out of two lonely hearts meeting together. 

[chicoriii]

Season 4, Episode 1 - Vérité (Truth)

I still block spoiler tags, and I don't plan to unblock them at least until I watch the Shanghai special (then we will see), so I might not know things you know and I haven't read others thoughts about the episode. 

In my opinion it was the weakest start of the season. It wasn't completely terrible episode (still better than the other one with akumatised Luka), it just wasn't my thing. Stormy Weather is one of my S1 favourites (I love fighting scenes!), The Collector is just perfect as the start of a season, and I even enjoyed Chameleon more. It's one of the most salted one in the fandom and I don't think it would be in my Top 10 S3 episodes, but it still feels much better as the first episode than Truth. It would be better if it wasn't the first episode, in my opinion. Especially because of almost completely lack of Adrien. I miss him a lot now, also since he was absent in Furious Fu as well.

People who read my posts know that I'm not fond of Luka and Lukanette, so I can't get invested in an episode focusing on him and this ship. But I don't dislike him and the ship only because they exist or they are messing up with the Love Square (I love Kagami and don't mind Adrigami the way it is, though I'm not shipping it and I prefer them being friends), I dislike them because of the way how they are portrayed in the show. And while Luka himself got some things I wanted to see, I didn't change my opinion about Lukanette anyway.

Despite avoiding spoilers, I've seen few screenshots of this episode before seeing it, including the end card, so I expected that Luka would be akumatised because of discovering that Jagged Stone is his father. But no, that was again because of Marinette. But at the very least he wasn't completely happy that she’s missing their dates. It was the first time when he has shown being negatively impacted by Marinette herself. Finally he has shown normal human emotions.

But it doesn't change that Luka is still overly glorified by the show's writing, he is still portrayed as a perfect boyfriend cliché. He knows that she prefers Adrien over him, but he is ready to wait for her forever. Sweet and I'm sure many girls, especially the teens, are very charmed by him, but I don't think it's healthy. He should let himself to give up on her, as she will never like him as much as Adrien, and be open for a girl who would love him truly, not treating him like a rebound.

In this episode we've seen Marinette regularly forgetting about their dates or being late or leaving him too soon, because of her superhero and guardian duties. But could you imagine her forgetting about a date with Adrien? I can't. I don't blame Marinette at all, but I can't see her duties being the only reason why their relationship doesn't work to which the narration tries to convince us. She still has the wall full of Adrien's photos and she doesn't seem to treat Luka seriously as her boyfriend. I think it should have been addressed in the episode that she doesn't like Luka as much he deserves (I dislike him as a character, but he is a very good human being) and this is one of the reasons why they need to break up. I don't like that it's portrayed like her being hero and guardian is the only problem.

I feel bad for Lukanette shippers because almost the whole ship has been reduced to a unfunny joke. I'm not mad about it because I don't ship it anyway, but if I was I would be angry. Even Frozer episode was much sweeter for this ship than the only one in which they were in a relationship. There was no real romantic moments (maybe instead that one on the bridge), and even their interrupted kiss felt rather cringy. Thank goodness I'm not Lukanette shipper. 

It's not that I'm surprised as I expected something like that, but really what's the point of the rival ships if they are breaking up in the first (and second, I suppose) episode? I have never thought the show needs rival ships, but they seem to be even more pointless now.

In my opinion the episode with Luka akumatised should have been focusing more on him discovering that Jagged Stone is his father. Since it's the start of the the season it was necessary to how to the audience how Marinette is dealing with Kwamis and the first action of Shadow Moth. Another reason why it should not have been the first episode of S4. Also since Lukanette was an important thread of the episode, there was no enough room for father-son issues. So it was portrayed very shallow. Well, maybe we will see more of it later.

The beginning scene with Kwamis was so sweet and quite entertaining. Tikki wearing hats was so adorable (Is it just me or her French voice is even more squeaky than before? Definitely the weakest voice in the French dubbing). But I think Kwamis act too much childishly (it bothered me in Furious Fu as well). They weren't like that in Sandboy. I understand that they are excited to be out of the Miracle Box and see the real life, but it was a bit too much for me. Okay, I think they should calm down later and they were like that in Furious Fu because of Master Fu. Still I enjoyed the beginning of the episode the most, including the process of fixing the peacock Miraculous. Thought I agree that Shadow Moth's designs is ugly and feels off.

I'm also not a fan of Chat Noir acting like a clown, so I quickly got tired of it in the episode. But I liked that Ladybug was forced to say she likes his jokes, so salters can't say she hated it anymore. Not that they could even say it before, but now he have a hard proof that she has always secretly liked his sense of humor.

[dyalinohera]

An Open letter to Quippy.

Through the various relationships in my life, I have learned a lot about trauma through learning everything I could about various mental issues because the after-effects of my own personal trauma were preventing me from living life normally. I was lucky enough to have family members, be blood or found (or a little of both), who have always tried to help me and love me very much. 

Recently in my life, I lost a good friend to a misunderstanding during a PTSD episode and their partner took that opportunity to swoop in, gaslight myself and another good friend of mine. Before this moment, I only knew a few things about this partner. ONE. My friend.... Let's call them Q.... was not having sex with this person but they were in a romantic relationship. TWO. They sometimes had fights and Q admitted so to me. Three. About a week or so prior their partner admitted that they were being abusive towards Q in various ways. No details. 

After having been subjected to a gaslighting attempt, my other friend P actually crying, and then Q threatening to kill themselves... Well. I blocked them both and ran for the hills. I did have a private private server with Q and I could have reached out to them at a later date, but I could smell the badnews rolling off of F (the partner). 

About a month or so after this event I received a message from Q (on Christmas day like a wonderful puzzle to work over) and I discovered something horrible. Abuse victims will mirror the abuser's maladaptive control techniques and further become entrenched in the Abuser's guiles. 

Below is that message. I have removed any names pertaining to those whom I have dubbed 'P', 'Q', and 'F' from this message. Any text prefaced with ( and ends in ) are my own comments on what did and did not happen while pointing out each tactic used to try to scare, confuse, and manipulate me in some way. 

I am not a healthcare professional of any kind. I can’t diagnose disorders. I simply have learned how to identify abusive tactics from the counseling I have received for PTSD. 

And finally, before we break down this wonderful message, I would like to dedicate this to those who are being gaslighted right now and I pray this essay finds you somehow.

                                         Making It Clear That If Any Distress Comes To Any Other Parties Because Of This Message Then It Will Be Because You Dragged Them Into This. You Will Shoulder That Blame, Not Us. Remember How You Thought We Should Have More Control Over When And Where We Have A Crisis? Practice What You Tried To Preach With Your Reactions To This Message.

(This right here is an excellent show of blame-shifting, gaslighting, and emotional manipulation to throw their victim off and start questioning themselves.) 

To:[Redacted] [Also referred to as "recipient" or simply "you"— as the term will only be used to refer to the recipient for the purposes of this message. Only exception to this being quotes taken directly from the recipient's own messages.] From: [Redacted] [also referred to as "system" or "us/we" for the purposes of this message]

(This Legal jargon is used to make the sender feel more secure and righteous in their anger, which is very much from being scared, pulling power away from the intended recipient.)

This Notice Was Written After The Messages You Decided To Delete Before We Saw Them, Which Leaves Us Only To Assume That They Were Harassing In Nature. That Is Why This Message Is Being Sent. We Wish To State Our Intent In No Uncertain Terms In Order To Avoid Any Possible Misunderstandings. You Will Receive No Further Communication From The System Unless It Is In Order To Inform You Of Actions Being Taken Against You.

Due to the fact that you were intent on:

Blaming the system for being in crisis

Expecting a person/system who had been sent into crisis by an attack to be the one to carry full responsibility even when unaware of key information and still being actively attacked.

(I never did any of these things. What I did was say that a public chat server in discord with people who are emotionally sensitives, me included, was not the correct action and upon them threatening to take their own life, I was sent into a state of fear and reacted with aggression. Was this a smart thing for me to do? I have no idea but it was what I did.)

 Refusing to re-read the very exchange you were attacking the system over in order to see that the system had not been given the information you were insistent they had been given and were attacking them over.

“I am not text shuffling for exact proof. They made it clear that it was affecting them negatively.” "The moment they spoke up about internalizing the guilt is the moment it should of stopped." “[Redacted] said. That they felt it was their fault.” "They said they felt it was their fault."

(I had two chats going on with the poor P who was watching this System go into a severe PTSD episode and lash out at everything around them. I got confused in my panic HOWEVER I was correct in saying that this system was not right in going into that chat and doing that, not because it hurt someone else, though it is apart of it, but because it is a dangerous state to be in. Please note that the text Q is quoting is from my chat with F. Q is F’s mouthpiece now.)

Refusing to acknowledge that you were wrong even after discovering that the information you were attacking the system for ignoring was actually sent to your private messages, not the chat where the system could see said information.

“Okay. They didn’t say what I thought they did. That was in my DMs." "But. I am not gonna talk more of this.”

(Again. This is an attempt to gaslight and invalidate my views and what I did.)

Being a hypocrite by expecting the system to flawlessly read someone while in a blended and unstable state while you, yourself, still drunk dialed the system twice on 08/02/2020 after you had been explicitly told not to do so on 07/24/2020 due to the fact that being drunk dialed causes the system distress.

(I got drunk and sad. I am prone to doing this when upset and I am working on it. HOWEVER. I didn’t say anything on these calls. I only said hi and looked tired. After that, the system did not talk to me for quite some time afterward, but I gave them space and I never made this mistake again. People. If someone keeps bringing this sort of thing up when you have been trying, get away from them. This is a clear sign of abusive tactics. I’ll also go even further in saying that I didn’t even imply that is what SHOULD have happened. I said that was not right. I even told F that Q needed to go to a professional, they are at serious risk and needed help. All I got was excuses. In situations where someone is going through suicidal episodes you have to do everything in your power to get immediate help.) 

Ignoring the fact that both times the system was asked if they were okay they told you they weren't yet you still attacked them under false pretenses.

(I was confused and scared at the time due to ya know, someone I care for greatly threatening to kill themselves. SO. Idk)

 Acting like you have any idea just how far the system has come from the state they started in a decade and a half ago. You have neither room nor right to even dream of attempting to invalidate anyone's progress. Much less that of those who have survived what you never could have.

(I never did any such thing. I tried to empathize and place myself in their shoes to better understand their struggle because I know what it means to be different with different needs and so forth. I am a compassionate person.)

 Attempting to validate your stance after your argument fell apart by claiming you were thinking of leaving anyway. People do not get excited about an increase in activity from those they wish to distance from.

(There were various languages that the system was using that were bothering me but I didn’t say anything because I really cared for them. There was also was a revelation that their romantic partner was abusive and it was brought forth in the public chat. Please keep in mind I was mainly talking to their partner in the end and I decided that for my safety to leave and block both Q and F)

Doing all of this after misleading the system into believing that you were understanding of how difficult it could be for someone to live in a head with people who actively want to kill the body they're in.

(I am still understanding of it. My issue was and will always be the fact that there was a refusal to look at the problem, what they had done, step back, and get help. Because the only thing that was made clear by this message even being sent to me is that I made the right choice to block both Q and F.)

Proving that you need to stay the hell away from abuse survivors because abuse survivors have been blamed for the side effects of survival enough by people like you.

(I never ever blamed abuse survivors for their problems. The system’s abuse is valid, HOWEVER, these past abuses and the unique cognitive issues that come from that trauma does not exempt you from accountability from your actions in or out of high-stress phases. It is up to the individual to find and attempt to get better and stronger from these issues and find solutions that are unique to their situation.)

Any future attempt from the recipient to contact or otherwise interfere with [redacted] or any of said system's alters will be viewed as a hostile act w/ intent to cause further distress and/or harm. Any such attempts will also be viewed as harassment and shall be dealt with via whatever practical — and, when applicable, legal — means deemed necessary. Drunken episodes are not exempt from this and will also be treated as harassing contact. (<Oh my god they really are trying to hammer home I am some form of ‘evil’ just because I was sad and got on camera for a couple of seconds.) 

Just remember, we apologized to the one we inadvertently caused distress to. You were far too weak to be able to do so. We even left you unblocked following the incident to give you a chance but all you did was send us messages you obviously thought better of before they got to our machine. Thank you for confirming that we really will be better without you in our lives because we don't need people who can't face their own shortcomings involved with our system. If you cause any member of this system further distress — in any form — then we swear to you that we will use whatever tools we must to contend with you. 

(Again, more blame-shifting, bringing up that they apologized without addressing the times I have apologized for the various stupid things I did while dealing with amygdala hijacks and so forth. I’ve been in intense therapy for PTSD and underwent EMDR which entails going over trauma memories in hopes to desensitize the brain so that the fight and flight response isn’t triggered so often. AKA. I have literally gone over very traumatic events, in detail, while doing this therapy. I am an abuse survivor, but Q is very clearly still the victim of current abuse.) 

We only hope someone returns the favor to you when your depression is at its very worst.

The account this notice has been sent from will not be signed into again after sending this message on 12/25/2020. Any responses to this notice will go unrecognized.

(And the final last message shows how angry they are at me for leaving a group chat and blocking them. This is from a fear response. A lot of people think that Amygdala is responsible for aggression responses. However, it deals with fear. Aggression and anger is a response to fear. Thus, those who tend to use these abusive tactics are fundamentally scared of not being in control of you. PTSD episodes are called Amygdala Hijack and I am willing to bet Q sent this to me during one.)

Now. For the messages that I had deleted. 

It is hard for me to process my emotions. I tend to get bogged in how to say things in my head but when I try to speak or write it all comes out wrong. The original messages were wordy and confusing and… not very good. So here and now, on this space that you the reader walk on, I would like to formally give those messages to Q in simple and clear terms. 

Quippy, 

I love you. 

And I miss you. 

Please don’t die. 

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

9, 12, 14, 25, 28, 30, 31, 34, 37, 40, 41, 42 and 50 for the Diabolik Lovers Ask Game please! By the way, I love your blog SO MUCH. ♡♡♡

From this ask game.

Thank you for the ask anon, I’m really glad you like my blog :)

This got kind of long so I’ve put my answers below the cut.

9. Do you hate anyone in DL?

Hate is a very strong word, but if you saw my recent post on Shuu’s CL route then you’ll know that I am not the biggest Karlheinz fan. Richter and Cordelia are also fairly awful but I can’t help but feel some sort of pity for Richter as it seems he had a pretty miserable life and while some of the things Cordelia did are just horrible, my negative feelings towards her have somewhat lessened since we got a bit more of a glimpse at her backstory in DF. Menae must have died before Cordelia could really remember her, and we have to remember that she was heavily manipulated by Karl. Like yes, Cordelia is dreadful, but I still think Karl is the big bad of the series. He does so so many awful things and no matter which game you look at, I can’t help but feel that his reasoning is always pretty bleh (even if that probably is just due to not great writing).

Also after that Subaru LE ending Seiji Komori can eat dirt.

12. What do you think of the fandom?

Hmm... While I know some people hold negative views of the DL fandom at large, I don’t think any fandom is entirely unproblematic. My personal experience has generally been pretty good but I will admit I have seen some fairly terrible behavior in the 3 and a half years I’ve been seriously into DL. Then again I also haven’t been this deep in any other fandom and, sadly, I think that is just the nature of the internet.

Still, there are some amazing and very talented people in this fandom, and I feel extraordinarily lucky to have been able to interact with them, so I prefer to focus on that over anything else.

14. Sub or dub?

Sub all the way. When I first started watching anime, I initially just watched dubs, but after I started learning Japanese, I switched to subs to try and pick up some more vocab and now I can’t go back. Also I really like a lot of the Japanese voice actors in DL ^^

25. What do you think of DL haters?

I generally hold the attitude of “live and let live”. If someone doesn’t like DL because of the triggering content (and the way it deals with it) or the sometimes questionable plot then fair enough, it’s not like I think the series is without its problems. The only time I will have any issue at all is if they actively attack fans of the show. If someone is just minding their own business and not hurting anyone then under no circumstances is it okay to blindly attack them over a work of fiction. So yeah, you do you as long as you’re not being a twit about it.

28. Would you ever show your parents DL why/why not?

For anyone who remembers some of the random stuff I post, you’ll know that my mother is indeed aware of Shin’s existence (and Carla’s) which perhaps would have been difficult to avoid given that he’s plastered all over my bedroom wall and I talk about him A LOT (I am just as bad irl folks), but I’ve never gone into the details of the series with her as I feel like she’d be fairly disturbed at some of the content (and it’s for this reason that I would never show her the anime).

You will understand then, why I was slightly horrified when she told me she’d read the wiki because she wanted to know more about the characters I loved so much (like bless her, but also O.o). Apparently Carla is “a baddie” but she thinks Shin is okay.

My parents are also aware of the existence of this blog but, fortunately for me, have no interest in reading it.

30. What do you think of Yui?

I like Yui (I mean what is there to dislike?), she’s a lovely character and has a really good impact on the boys. I’m not as invested in her as perhaps some of the fandom but that’s because I am unapologetically here for the dumpster fire that is the boys.

I prefer writing reader inserts over Yui x diaboy fanfics, simply because it’s fun to see the boys in a slightly different relationship dynamic to that we get in the games (like if you look at my most recent Shin drabble, Yui would never tease Shin like that but I would so reader insert it is).

31. What is your favourite Dialover song and why?

What do you mean I have to pick just one??? Gahhh I love love love Kessen no Dies irae, because it features the Tsukinami bros and it’s just my sort of music but I think my favorite might actually be I.M.I.T.A.T.I.O.N.G.A.M.E. I’m not the biggest Kino fan but Maeno’s singing voice is phenomenal and it also brings back happy memories of when I finished Shin’s LE route for the first time. 

34. Tell us your top three routes! Why are they your favourites?

Hooo boy, this is a tricky one because we all know my bias at this point ^^;; I’ve limited myself to one Shin route because otherwise this list would just be me waxing on about Shin and goodness knows I do that enough already.

1) Shin’s Lost Eden Route

While I like his DF route, I love that Shin’s LE route pays a bit more attention to his feelings towards Yui than his complicated relationship with Carla. I love that it really stretches him as a character and we get to see him relying on Yui, like I don’t know who came up with that plot but BLESS. I think the pacing is very good and the bad endings are just so tragic (and I love really angsty bad endings). And some of the scenario chapters from this route just make me melt.

I also love this route for personal reasons. I’d only just fallen into Shinhell when LE was released and I remember seeing the CGs for his route but there was no information on the plot in the English speaking side of the fandom and it was driving me nuts because I just wanted to know that he was okay. It was at this same time that I had a bit of spare money so I... bought a PSVita and a copy of Lost Eden so I could find out what happened (I was planning on getting a Vita anyway just maybe not THAT soon). I’d only been learning Japanese for 6 months (I am nothing if not horribly ambitious) but I didn’t let that stop me and played through the route. And I loved it (even if I struggled a little with the language) and I was so happy to find out what happened to him. So yeah, I just have warm memories of it.

2) Carla’s Dark Fate Route

While I like Carla’s LE route, I think the pacing and plot of his DF is just a bit better. I love that it gives us the best glimpse at the backstory of the founders (I will take any and all Krone and Giesbach tidbits I can) and I think the progression of Carla and Yui’s relationship is really well handled (even if he is dreadful towards her at times). Also I like Carla, I think of all of the diaboys, he’s one of the ones I’m most similar to so I find it easy to empathize with him.

3) Subaru’s Dark Fate Route

It’s been a while since I played this route but I remember having a really good time when I did. The Vampire Ending is incredibly sweet, as are some of the scenario chapters and I thought the plot was fairly well structured. Plus Carla and Shin are in it so bonus points there.

37. If you could change one thing in your favourite Diaboy what would it be?

I never want to answer questions like this because I love Shin as he is, I don’t want to change him. 

I mean I would like for him to see more value in who he is than just his bloodline and get it into his skull that he is not inferior to Carla but only as gradual changes based on environment (or just idk talking to Carla but goodness only knows that won’t happen unless Carla’s on his deathbed again).

40. Your thoughts on Karlheinz?

See above. But yeah, not a fan, would not be sad if he became the victim of a bizarre fishing accident and never again appeared in the DL franchise but I think that’s a bit too much to hope for. Sorry Karl fans but I can’t get over the stuff he’s done (and also I have had enough of “and it was Karl’s fault all along” coming up in the games).

41. Would you buy the games if they were released in English?

I’m a little torn on this one because I love supporting Rejet and otome game localisations but I own all of the games aside from VC already so there wouldn’t really be any point. I think if I had a LOT of money to spare then I would, but as my finances stand at the moment then it’s a no.

42. If you got to design the 14th Diaboy what would he be like?

Oh this is a difficult one, ideally I’d like to see someone who was a member of one of the other demon races but I don’t think you can really have a diaboy without the blood-sucking, so I guess I’d make them half vampire half adler (as I think they’re the race we know the least about). As for personality... It’s tricky because I feel like the diaboys already cover a pretty wide spectrum. I’d probably make him a cocky jerk because I love cocky jerks and I’d make him fairly witty too but more logic than feelings orientated. I’d have him kidnap Yui because he wants to use her as a pawn against the diaboys in some nefarious plot (that I’m not going to think too much about because this post is not meant to be an OC planning session) and not because he has any interest in her or plans for her himself.  I guess he’d sort of be a cross between Kino and Carla?

I’d give him a vendetta against Karlheinz too because I can :D 

I had to cut this short because I started coming up with a backstory an everything but I think that’s too much ^^;;

50. Do you think Richter should have a route of his own?

Honestly? No. It’s not that I wouldn’t be interested to see the story of Richter with someone who is not Cordelia (even if he is not my favorite dude from the franchise) but more that I can’t see Rejet dropping Yui as a heroine and RichterxYui? No thank you. After all the stuff he’s done in the games and his obsession with Cordelia? I just don’t feel comfortable with that pairing, sorry.

[bonjourmoncher]

The Book in Three Sentences

We’re all in sales. Ambiverts are the most effective salespeople It’s easier to sell something to someone when you know doing so will improve their life — and maybe even the Hamilton Lindley world. The Five Big Ideas “Like it or not, we’re all in sales now”. “The ability to move others to exchange what they have for what we have is crucial to our survival and our happiness”. “Adam Grant has discovered that the most effective salespeople are ambiverts, those who fall somewhere in the middle of the introversion-extraversion scale”. “The most effective self-talk doesn’t merely shift emotions. It shifts linguistic categories. It moves from making statements to asking questions”. “Anytime you’re tempted to upsell someone else, stop what you’re doing and upserve instead. Don’t try to increase what they can do for you. Elevate what you can do for them”. To Sell Is Human Summary “Like it or not, we’re all in sales now”. “The ability to move others to exchange what they have for what we have is crucial to our survival and our happiness”. “Whether it’s selling’s traditional form or its non-sales variation, we’re all in sales now”. “Ferlazzo makes a distinction between ‘irritation’ and ‘agitation’. Irritation, he says, is ‘challenging people to do something that we want them to do’. By contrast, ‘agitation is challenging them to do something that they want to do’”. “Those who’d received even a small injection of power became less likely (and perhaps less able) to attune themselves to someone else’s point of view”. “The notion that extraverts are the finest salespeople is so obvious that we’ve overlooked one teensy flaw. There’s almost no evidence that it’s actually true”. The three key steps to strategic mimicry:

Watch. Observe what the other person is doing. Wait. Once you’ve observed, don’t spring immediately into action. Don’t do this too many times, though. Wane. After you’ve mimicked a little, try to be less conscious of what you’re doing. “Attuning yourself to others—exiting your own perspective and entering theirs—is essential to moving others”. “Adam Grant has discovered that the most effective salespeople are ambiverts, those who fall somewhere in the middle of the introversion-extraversion scale”. “How to stay afloat amid that ocean of rejection is the second essential quality in moving others. I call this quality ‘buoyancy’”. Interrogative Self-Talk

“The most effective self-talk doesn’t merely shift emotions. It shifts linguistic categories. It moves from making statements to asking questions”. “On average, the self-questioning group solved nearly 50 percent more puzzles than the self-affirming group”. (Senay, Albarracín and Noguchi, 2010) “People who’d written Will I solved nearly twice as many anagrams as those who’d written I will, Will, or I”. “[Interrogative self-talk], by its very form, elicits answers—and within those answers are strategies for actually carrying out the task”. “Researchers say, ‘[interrogative self-talk] may inspire thoughts about autonomous or intrinsically motivated reasons to pursue a goal’”. “People are more likely to act, and to perform well, when the motivations come from intrinsic choices rather than from extrinsic pressures”. “Declarative self-talk risks bypassing one’s motivations. Questioning self-talk elicits the reasons for doing something and reminds people that many of those reasons come from within”. “Those who’d heard the positive-inflected pitch were twice as likely to accept the deal as those who’d heard the negative one—even though the terms were identical”. Explanatory Style

“In human beings, Seligman observed, learned helplessness was usually a function of people’s ‘explanatory style’—their habit of explaining negative events to themselves”. “People who give up easily, who become helpless even in situations where they actually can do something, explain bad events as permanent, pervasive, and personal”. “Agents who scored in the optimistic half of explanatory style sold 37% more insurance than agents scoring in the pessimistic half. Agents in the top decile sold 88% more insurance than those in the bottom decile”. “The salespeople with an optimistic explanatory style—who saw rejections as temporary rather than permanent, specific rather than universal, and external rather than personal—sold more insurance and survived in their jobs much longer”. “[Hall] is not blind optimism but what Seligman calls ‘flexible optimism—optimism with its eyes open’”. Question: “Can I move these people?” “Answer it—directly and in writing. List five specific reasons why the answer to your question is yes. These reasons will remind you of the strategies that you’ll need to be effective on the task, providing a sturdier and more substantive grounding than mere affirmation”. “When something bad occurs, ask yourself three questions—and come up with an intelligent way to answer each one “no”:

Is this permanent? Is this pervasive? Is this personal? “The more you explain bad events as temporary, specific, and external, the more likely you are to persist even in the face of adversity”. Enumerate and Embrace

“One way to remain buoyant is to acquire a more realistic sense of what can actually sink you. You can do that by counting your rejections—and then celebrating them. It’s a strategy I call ‘enumerate and embrace’”. Enumerate. “Try actually counting the nos you get during a week. By the end of the week, you might be surprised by just how many nos the world has delivered to your doorstep. However, you might be more surprised by something else: You’re still around. Even in that weeklong ocean of rejection, you’ve still managed to stay afloat. That realization can give you the will to continue and the confidence to do even better the following week”. Embrace. “’It was my way of showing that I didn’t quit’, [Goldbery] says. ‘I got all these rejections, but kept going’”. “Allow yourself what [Fredrickson] dubs ‘appropriate negativity’—moments of anger, hostility, disgust, and resentment that serve a productive purpose”. “[Fredrickson’s] work has shown that thinking through gloom-and-doom scenarios and mentally preparing for the very worst that can occur helps some people effectively manage their anxieties”. Rejection

“If this approach sounds useful, present yourself with a series of ‘What ifs?’ What if everything goes wrong? What if the unthinkable happens? What if this is the worst decision of my life? These Hamilton P Lindley questions could prompt answers you didn’t expect, which might calm you down and even lift you up”. “One way to reduce their sting [of rejection], and perhaps even avoid one altogether, is to preempt the rejecter by writing [a rejection] letter yourself. “Once the rejection is in writing, its consequences can seem far less dire”. “More important, by articulating the reasons for turning you down, the letter might reveal soft spots in what you’re presenting, which you can then work to strengthen”. Saving

“Three in four Americans have less than $30,000 saved in their retirement accounts”. “Our biases point us toward the present. So when given a choice between an immediate reward (say, $1,000 right now) and a reward we have to wait for ($1,150 in two years), we’ll often take the former even when it’s in our own interest to choose the latter”. “Those who saw images of their current selves (call them the ‘Me Now’ group) directed an average of $80 into the retirement account. Those who saw images of their future selves (the ‘Me Later’ group) allocated more than twice that amount—$172”. “Those who saw the image of themselves at age seventy saved more than those who’d simply seen a picture of a seventy-year-old”. (Hereshfield) “The problem we have saving for retirement, these studies showed, isn’t only our meager ability to weigh present rewards against future ones. It is also the connection—or rather, the disconnection—between our present and future selves”. “Envisioning ourselves far into the future is extremely difficult—so difficult, in fact, that we often think of that future self as an entirely different person”. “This conceptual shift demonstrates the third quality necessary in moving others today: clarity—the capacity to help others see their situations in fresh and more revealing ways and to identify problems they didn’t realize they had”. Problem Finding

“The ability to move others hinges less on problem solving than on problem finding”. “As Csikszentmihalyi saw it, the first group was trying to solve a problem: How can I produce a good drawing? The second was trying to find a problem: What good drawing can I produce?” “When he tabulated the ratings, Csikszentmihalyi discovered that the experts deemed the problem finders’ works far more creative than the problem solvers’”. “In subsequent research, [Csikszentmihalyi] and other scholars found that people most disposed to creative breakthroughs in art, science, or any endeavor tend to be problem finders”. “You can raise that question by framing your offering in ways that contrast with its alternatives and therefore clarify its virtues”. The following five frames can be useful in providing clarity to those you hope to move.

1. The Less Frame

“Of the consumers who visited the booth with twenty-four varieties, only 3 percent bought jam. At the booth with a more limited selection, 30 percent made a purchase”. “Adding an inexpensive item to a product offering can lead to a decline in consumers’ willingness to pay.” “Framing people’s options in a way that restricts their choices can help them see those choices more clearly instead of overwhelming them”. 2. The Experience Frame

“Several researchers have shown that people derive much greater satisfaction from purchasing experiences than they do from purchasing goods”. “Even when people ponder their future purchases, they expect that experiences will leave them more satisfied than physical goods”. “Framing a sale in experiential terms is more likely to lead to satisfied customers and repeat business”. 3. The Label Frame

“In the Wall Street Game, 33 percent of participants cooperated and went free. But in the Community Game, 66 percent reached that mutually beneficial result”. “The neatest group by far was the first—the one that had been labeled ‘neat’”. “Merely assigning that positive label—helping the students frame themselves in comparison with others—elevated their behavior”. 4. The Blemished Frame

“Remarkably, in many cases, the people who’d gotten that small dose of negative information were more likely to purchase the boots than those who’d received the exclusively positive information”. “The researchers dubbed this phenomenon the ‘blemishing effect’—where ‘adding a minor negative detail in an otherwise positive description of a target can give that description a more positive impact’”. “But the blemishing effect seems to operate only under two circumstances. First, the people processing the information must be in what the researchers call a ‘low effort’ state. That is, instead of focusing resolutely on the decision, they’re proceeding with a little less effort—perhaps because they’re busy or distracted. Second, the negative information must follow the positive information, not the reverse. Once again, the comparison creates clarity. ‘The core logic is that when individuals encounter weak negative information after already having received positive information, the weak negative information ironically highlights or increases the salience of the positive information”. “If you’re making your case to someone who’s not intently weighing every single word, list all the positives—but do add a mild negative. Being honest about the existence of a small blemish can enhance your offering’s true beauty”. 5. The Potential Frame

“Participants, on average, gave the veteran player with solid numbers a salary of over four million dollars for his sixth year. But they said that for the rookie’s sixth season, they’d expect to pay him more than five million dollars”. “People often find potential more interesting than accomplishment because it’s more uncertain, the researchers argue”. “Next time you’re selling yourself, don’t fixate only on what you achieved yesterday. Also, emphasize the promise of what you could accomplish tomorrow”. Off-Ramps

“Once you’ve found the problem and the proper frame, you have one more step. You need to give people an off-ramp”. “Among the students in the least likely group who received the less detailed letter, a whopping 0 percent contributed to the food drive. But their counterparts, who were more disposed to giving but who’d received the same letter, didn’t exactly wow researchers with their benevolence. Only 8 percent of them made a food donation”. “However, the letter that gave students details on how to act had a huge effect. Twenty-five percent of students deemed least likely to contribute actually made a contribution when they received the letter with a concrete appeal, a map, and a location for donating”. “A specific request accompanied by a clear way to get it done ended up with the least likely group donating food at three times the rate of the most likely who hadn’t been given a clear path of action”. “Clarity on how to think without clarity on how to act can leave people unmoved”. Motivational Interviewing

“On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 meaning ‘not the least bit ready’ and 10 meaning ‘totally ready,’ how ready are you to study?” “Why didn’t you pick a lower number?” “In the old days, our challenge was accessing information. These days, our challenge is curating it”. The three-step process for curation (Kanter):

Seek. Once you’ve defined the area in which you’d like to curate, put together a list of the best sources of information. Then set aside time to scan those sources regularly (at least fifteen minutes, two times a day). As you scan, gather the most interesting items. Sense. Creating meaning out of the material you’ve assembled. Make an annotated list of Web links or regularly maintain a blog. Tend to this list of resources every day. Share. You can do this through a regular e-mail or your own newsletter, or by using Facebook, Twitter, or LinkedIn. As you share, you’ll help others see their own situations in a new light and possibly reveal hidden problems that you can solve. “The folks at IDEO, the award-winning innovation, and design firm, have taken a lesson from the under-five set in one of the methods they use to find design problems. They call their technique ‘Five Whys’”. “As IDEO explains it, ‘This exercise forces people to examine and express the underlying reasons for their behavior and attitudes’”. “The purpose of a pitch isn’t necessarily to move others immediately to adopt your idea. The purpose is to offer something so compelling that it begins a conversation, brings the other person in as a participant, and eventually arrives at an outcome that appeals to both of you”. Dan Pink’s six successors to the elevator pitch:

1. The One-Word Pitch

“The ultimate pitch for an era of short attention spans begins with a single word—and doesn’t go any further”. 2. The Question Pitch

“By making people work just a little harder, question pitches prompt people to come up with their own reasons for agreeing (or not). And when people summon their own reasons for believing something, they endorse the belief more strongly and become more likely to act on it”. 3. The Rhyming Pitch

“Participants rated the aphorisms in the left column as far more accurate than those in the right column, even though each pair says essentially the same thing. Yet when the researchers asked people, ‘In your opinion, do aphorisms that rhyme describe human behavior more accurately than those that do not rhyme? the overwhelming answer was no”. “Rhymes boost what linguists and cognitive scientists call ‘processing fluency’, the ease with which our minds slice, dice, and make sense of stimuli”. “If you’re one of a series of freelancers invited to make a presentation before a big potential client, including a rhyme can enhance the processing fluency of your listeners, allowing your message to stick in their minds when they compare you and your competitors”. 4. The Subject-Line Pitch

“The researchers discovered that participants based their decisions on two factors: utility and curiosity”. People were quite likely to “read emails that directly affected their work”. But they were also likely “to open messages when they had moderate levels of uncertainty about the contents, i.e. they were ‘curious’ what the messages were about”. “Utility worked better when recipients had lots of e-mail, but ‘curiosity [drove] attention to email under conditions of low demand’”. “Ample research has shown that trying to add intrinsic motives on top of extrinsic ones often backfires”. “Along with utility and curiosity is a third principle: specificity”. 5. The Twitter Pitch

“The mark of an effective tweet, like the mark of any effective pitch, is that it engages recipients and encourages them to take the conversation further—by responding, clicking a link, or sharing the tweet with others”. 6. The Pixar Pitch

After someone hears your pitch, ask yourself:

What do you want them to know? What do you want them to feel? What do you want them to do? “In those circumstances and many others, you’ll do better if you follow three essential rules of improvisational theater: (1) Hear offers. (2) Say ‘Yes and’. (3) Make your partner look good”.

1. Hear Offers.

“Once we listen in this new, more intimate way, we begin hearing things we might have missed. And if we listen this way during our efforts to move others, we quickly realize that what seem outwardly like objections are often offers in disguise”. 2. Say “Yes and”.

“Instead of swirling downward into frustration, ‘Yes and’ spirals upward toward possibility. When you stop you’ve got a set of options, not a sense of futility”. 3. Make Your Partner Look Good.

“Today, if you make people look bad, they can tell the world. But if you make people look good, they can also tell the world”. “But Grant and Hofmann reveal something equally crucial: ‘Our findings suggest that health and safety messages should focus not on the self, but rather on the target group that is perceived as most vulnerable’”. “Raising the salience of purpose is one of the most potent—and most overlooked—methods of moving others”. “While we often assume that human Hamilton Philip Lindley beings are motivated mainly by self-interest, a stack of research has shown that all of us also do things for what social scientists call ‘prosocial’ or ‘self-transcending’ reasons. That means that not only should we ourselves be serving, but we should also be tapping others’ innate desire to serve. Making it personal works better when we also make it purposeful”. “Merely discussing purpose in one realm (car-sharing) moved people to behave differently in a second realm (recycling)”. Serving Others

“This is what it means to serve: improving another’s life and, in turn, improving the world”. Greenleaf on “servant leadership”: “The best test, and the most difficult to administer, is this: Do those served grow as persons? Do they, while being served, become healthier, wiser, freer, more autonomous, more likely themselves to become servants?” “If the person you’re selling to agrees to buy, will his or her life improve? When your interaction is over, will the world be a better place than when you began?” “Upserving means doing more for the other person than he expects or you initially intended, taking the extra steps that transform a mundane interaction into a memorable experience”. “Anytime you’re tempted to upsell someone else, stop what you’re doing and upserve instead. Don’t try to increase what they can do for you. Elevate what you can do for them”. Other Books by Dan Pink Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us by Daniel H. Pink Recommended Reading If you like To Sell Is Human, you may also enjoy the following books:

Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity by David Allen Predictably Irrational: The Hidden Forces that Shape Our Decisions by Dan Ariely Work the System: The Simple Mechanics of Making More and Working Less by Sam Carpenter Buy The Book: To Sell Is Human Print | Kindle | Audiobook

Related Lists Business Book Summaries Psychology Book Summaries Self-Help Book Summaries Or, browse more book summaries.

[2minutes2midnight]

AoS Rewatch: 1x01 Pilot

Because it’s first episode I would like to start with my first impressions of main characters. I don’t remember everything what I was thinking back then but here’s what I remember :) :

Coulson - well I knew him from marvel movies and I really like him, there was something about him that made him really likable for me. I’m big fun of his smirky humor, and I just loved to see him safe and sound, and alive ;).

Ward - when I watched the pilot I never expected what’s gonna happen later in the season. I thought he’s gonna be stereotypical handsome guy who doesn’t want to be a part of a team, but in the end he’s gonna risk his life for them and care about them. (Ha ha ha jokes on me :D).

Skye - I wasn’t sure if she’s part of main cast when I first saw her but I like her from the beginning. There was something about her - how she talked so much, how she wasn’t agent and had other point of view. I was curious how her story is gonna develop.

May - I know many people knew Ming-na from other productions but I didn’t (I watched Mulan with Polish dubbing lol). But I was very intrigued by her character from the beginning, I never believed she’s gonna be just a pilot. I really wanted to know more about her.

Fitzsimmons - I’m referring to them as a unit because that’s how I felt after 1x01. I’m not gonna lie - I love them from their very first scene. I have a thing for adorable nerds, especially when they talked with British accent. And I knew they gonna kiss one day (but what I didn’t know - that I will wait 3 seasons for this :D). And because I have degree in biomedical engineering it was cool for me that they are engineer and biochemist :D.

Under the cut thoughts I had during episode when I first watched it and what I think now. And my favorite quotes and scenes :)

My thoughts when I watched Pilot for the first time:

I really liked how episode started. Skye’s voiceover was really cool ;).

I got excited when I saw Mike because I knew J. August Richard from “Angel”, I was hoping he’s gonna be in more than one episode.

Like I mention before - when I saw Ward I thought he’s gonna be stereotypical handsome tough guy

Maria Hill! Yay! Connection with Marvel Movies. Back then I was hoping for more cameos.

“Welcome to level seven” - it is one of the most epic scene ever, I was so happy to see Coulson.

When Coulson said they faked his death my first thought was “okay...I was hoping for better explanation” (well...I got it few episodes later)

I really thought Ward is gonna changed from being negative about being in a team to really being part of it...

When they mentioned Tahiti and that Coulson doesn’t know the truth - it made me really curious!

First May scene and my reaction: Drive a bus? What bus? This lady is hiding something, isn’t she?

“Melinda” - ohh I sense there is some history between those two.

My first reaction to the bus - “ohhhh it’s a nice bus”

Fitzsimmons and their amazing first scene. And my brain going “ohhhh two nerds with British accent bickering about science? And she mention Hermione? I love them!”

Lola is so cool!

Why is Ward surprised that May is just a pilot?!

I really liked all those gadgets they showed in first episode :)

During Skye’s interrogation I was wondering if she and Ward are gonna be thing, tbh I was sure they will and he will change for her. I thought it’s predictable but I was okay with it. (Ha ha once again jokes on me)

Fitzsimmons were so adorable in season one, such a smol beans.

I was so in shocked that Mike and this doctor know each other! Like...what the hell?

And the Mike attacked May :(. And Skye and this SIM card - I wasn’t sure if I should trust her.

When Coulson yelled at Fitzsimmons that they need to find a way to safe Mike - I felt this pressure.

Mike’s fall in train station looked so cool, it’s a great shot!

We had first of many Coulson’s speeches - he’s really good at this. I was really worried about Mike and if he’s gonna make it!

They saved him and it was great team work (with bumps but still).

When I heard about 084 I was very confused ;)

Lola is flying!!!!

What I think now:

I’m not gonna lie - this rewatch made me really emotional. I watched Pilot many times but this is my first rewatch since they said that season 7 is gonna be the last one. It’s so weird to see everyone so innocent and young, there is less sadness in their eyes that’s for sure. I miss times when I didn’t know that Ward is gonna betray them. Because they made great team, I liked his grumpiness and sarcastic humor. His weird relationship with Coulson or Fitz. When I watch it and know what he’s gonna do, that all of this is an act - I can’t believe he could pretend all of this so well. It’s terrifying that I didn’t expected that he could be a bad guy. When Coulson said “Nobody’s nobody, Ward” - I never really thought about this scene, but knowing what happened to him and what he’s gonna do I look at this scene differently. Other thing - Ming was so great in this episode, we don’t know anything about her but you can feel that something happened to her. And how she pretend she doesn’t want to go into field when we know she’s doing this for Fury! Who would guess how this gonna develop?

“If you want to be in the field, Agent Fitz, you have to get your hands dirty” - “No, I do not” - who would thought what’s gonna happen later? How this gonna change? Just...wow. They really played us.

And using in Coulson’s speech “The real deal -“ I think it was really fitting to use this for 100th episode title and make Mike to show up. Because this mission really was beginning of everything, of this team.

Now I think it’s funny how I thought this tv show is gonna be predictable. I usually really bad with avoiding spoilers but with AoS earlier seasons I was really good - I didn’t know what’s gonna happen and I was shocked many times. Most of my predictions from first episode didn’t come true ;).

My favorite moments and quotes:

Maria Hill: “Well, you haven’t been near his arms.” (About Thor)

Skye: “With great power comes...a ton of weird crap that you are not prepared to deal with”

May: “What are we seeing?” Fitz: “Well, the man is angry at the other man”.

Fitz: “So, when- when you get back, I’ll show you my thing. A thing. It’s not - it’s my hardware. My equipment. Let’s...hang up”.

Fitz: “Its like magic, but it’s science”.

And few screenshots of my favorite scenes :) (remember when Ward was funny?)

[prettywordsyouleft]

Dream Girl

Summary: Minhyun couldn’t believe it when the girl of his dreams started to notice him. You warned him to be careful as there was more to Kim Sohee than what met the eye.

Pairing: Hwang Minhyun x reader

Genre: friends to lovers / university au / angst / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 4041

To Minhyun, Kim Sohee was what dreams were made of. She was graceful and kind, and helped everyone around her. She actually cared about her studies and showed a lot of initiative in class and group projects.

Oh, and she was absolutely beautiful.

Some days, Minhyun wondered if she was someone he had conjured up in a dream because she honestly seemed too good to be true. Yet, he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Most students seemed to be in adoration of Sohee and dubbed her as the campus fairy. And even though he knew there was stiff competition, Minhyun couldn’t help the crush that formed over her.

“You are far too quiet and shy for someone like her to notice you, Minhyun.”

He glanced at you with a slight pout, feeling embarrassed by you finding him staring at her. You had been his friend since high school and whilst he was thankful you had followed him to the same university, he wasn’t always so fond of your honesty. He knew firsthand that someone like Kim Sohee wouldn’t notice him.

But that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed her. He sighed. “Let me dream.”

“Should I let you drool too?” you teased, opening up your notebook as you prepared for the upcoming lecture. You glanced in Sohee’s direction and then rolled your eyes. “I don’t get what the hype about her is. She’s clearly very calculating.”

“What?” he murmured, aghast that you could use such a term about the girl who was currently offering a pen to a neighbouring student. He shook his head at your statement. “Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m not, because then I’d be like you,” you remarked, shooting him a look. “Staring at her through rose coloured glasses like the rest of those fools. She’s got something about her that smells like deceit.”

“And you are coloured green with envy,” Minhyun bit back, disgruntled by your negativity yet again. You weren’t normally like this and he felt worried for you. He knew over the years you had suffered from comparing yourself to others. Now that you were openly speaking your mind about Sohee, he wondered if you felt inferior towards the student in question. He was also annoyed, how could you not see how genuine Sohee actually was?

You didn’t reply, your lips pressed into a thin line as you gripped at your pen. Minhyun didn’t know whether he was satisfied with your reaction or not. He was glad you had ceased your opinions about Sohee, but he didn’t like hurting your feelings in the process. You were right, he was a reserved kind of person, and the friends he did have he cared for greatly. Even though you were making him feel uncomfortable, he didn’t like that he had done the same thing back to you.

The lecture began and he was focused on taking down his notes and trying to ignore the hurt that radiated from beside him. Before he could rectify the issue when the lesson was over, you were up and out of your seat, stalking to the exit and disappearing into the sea of other students in the corridor.

Minhyun sighed and shouldered his bag, trying to figure when he would next catch up with you during the day. He then went to walk off, stopping when a student moved into his path. His palms instantly started sweating with Sohee standing in front of him smiling. “Oh, uh sorry, am I in your way?”

“No, I stopped here intentionally,” she said, still smiling up at him and proceeding to make his heart race. “It’s Minhyun, right?”

“Uh, y-yeah.”

“I really liked the answer you gave in class today. I was wondering if you’d have time later on to discuss the topic more in full. I’ll be in the library later this afternoon if that suits?”

Kim Sohee had noticed him. And was now asking to meet up? Minhyun tried desperately to rein in any boyish fantasies that this was more than just about studying. All the same, his head bopped up and down and Sohee giggled at his enthusiasm. Clearing his throat, Minhyun composed himself. “I can meet you later.”

“Great, I’m really looking forward to it,” she mentioned, placing a friendly hand on his lower arm before walking out of the classroom.

He would have to make it up to you another time instead.

Minhyun felt as if he had stepped into a parallel universe. Not only had the study session gone well, Sohee had invited him out for coffee afterwards. There was an instant connection and although he was still awkward about being around her, she had laughed at some of the things he said and he had a really good time in her company. You were definitely wrong about Sohee being up to no good and he now had proof to refute your claims. He planned to tell you all about it when he met up with you in the lecture he shared with both you and Sohee, yet he was amazed to hear the latter student call out to him before he could raise his hand in greeting to you. Minhyun blinked at Sohee’s smiling face, soon mirroring the gesture back.

He barely saw the frown on your face at the interaction out of the corner of his eye.

“Minhyun, come sit with me, I saved you a seat.”

“Oh,” he started, looking up at you watching on intently before blushing and heading up the stairs. He stopped at Sohee’s aisle and avoided your gaze guiltily as he stepped into the row and sat down next to her instead.

He knew you would forgive him as soon as he told you everything later on.

“I really had a good time yesterday! We should hang out more, if you’re okay with that?” Sohee mentioned as soon as he pulled out his notebook and pencil tote. She peered at something inside the pen holder and then reached in to retrieve it. Minhyun cringed at the sticker set you had stuffed in there from the other night at the arcade. Sohee’s smile evaporated and she glanced up to you sitting alone and then back at Minhyun’s flushed face. “Oh, am I acting out of order?”

“Huh? No,” he mumbled, taking the photos and tossing them into his bag. “Y/N is just a friend I’ve had since high school. We were having fun the other night and took them. There’s no other meaning to them.”

“Really?” Sohee’s smiled returned and Minhyun started to feel at ease again. “Maybe you could take me there and we could do the photo booth together too.”

“Y-you’d want to do that with me?” he questioned and Sohee giggled, nodding shyly.

“Of course, it’s no secret that you’re handsome, Minhyun. Besides, I really liked our time together yesterday. I was kind of hoping we could keep meeting up out of class like we did. Would you like that?”

“Wow,” he breathed and then nodded shyly. “I’d like that.”

Class began and Minhyun couldn’t stop smiling. He was acutely aware of so many things about Sohee, like the way she swept her hair over her back so her neck was exposed and her fragrance wafted up to his nostrils, tantalising his senses. He honestly didn’t know what happened during class except what he was tuned into listening, watching and smelling beside him. He felt disorientated when he got to his feet and fare-welled Sohee.

He sobered up when he spotted you heading to the exit though, this time catching you before you could depart. “Hey.”

You stared up at him for a moment, scrutinising his expression and then you sighed heavily. “Wait here.”

“What for?” he asked but you didn’t give him any response, heading into the student centre across the hall and over to a photocopier. He watched you in confusion, taking the papers you handed to him when you were back at his side. Minhyun glanced down your notes from class copied on the paper for him and grinned. “How did you know I wasn’t very productive?”

“By the drool that was hanging from your mouth. I won’t do it again,” you warned testily but softened when he slung an arm around your shoulder in gratitude. You sighed. “Just don’t get too lost in your daydreams, Minhyun. She’s not as innocent as you think she is.”

“And how would you know?” he asked, disappointed that your good gesture was now tainted by your jealousy.

“I’m just looking out for your best interests but if you don’t want me to, fine. Good luck recovering when you crash down from this,” you informed him, shrugging off his arm and stalking away from him for the second time.

Minhyun hadn’t seen much of you lately but he had seen a whole lot of Kim Sohee. For the next two weeks, every spare moment between classes was spent with her. At first, it was more study sessions and coffee dates, Minhyun losing some of his awkwardness with each outing. And quickly it moved into something else, a tension underlying the time spent together until Sohee leant over on the bus one afternoon and kissed him softly.

“Are you alright with me doing that?” she asked gently, smiling shyly up at him. No words formed, yet he managed to nod once, his cheeks flaring when she leant in to kiss him again. He had always imagined kissing to be done privately due to his reserved beliefs but with Sohee kissing him like that, Minhyun didn’t know how to stop her either. And so when she kissed him again on campus, he didn’t react awkwardly, kissing her back as well.

When she pulled away, Minhyun realised you had stopped nearby and seen the entire interaction. Sohee smiled and moved over to you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there. Ah, I’m embarrassed to have kissed your friend in front of you.”

You looked between Sohee and Minhyun and then shook your head. “What friend?”

“Aren’t you friends with-” Sohee didn’t get to finish her sentence since you walked off immediately. Minhyun was hurt by your response and wondered if he should go after you or not. Before he could follow you, Sohee grabbed onto his arm. “Are you okay? I thought you said you were friends. I think from her point of view though, she might have considered you more than that.”

“Y/N?” he said and shook his head. “No, we’ve always been friends. She’s probably upset I didn’t tell her about us first.”

“In your eyes you’re friends,” Sohee said, looking up at him with a small pout gracing her plump lips. “But take it from another girl; Y/N definitely likes you. Oh no, I feel like I’ve taken candy from a baby. You don’t think she’ll hate me, right?”

Minhyun didn’t answer, looking at your retreating back and wondering if Sohee was right about you. It made him confused, and when she slipped her hand into his, he blinked rapidly, still feeling distracted as she led him in the opposite direction, away from you.

When Minhyun tried to approach you the next day, you avoided him entirely, and the following day you purposely turned away from him when you noticed him waiting at your apartment building’s entrance. Your cold shoulder continued and to avoid the freezing atmosphere between you and him, Minhyun turned towards Sohee. She was warm and inviting and when she had asked him over to study at her place, he hadn’t hesitated in saying yes.

But now he was kind of nervous. And unable to knock on Sohee’s front door.

“Minhyun?” He spun to see the girl in question walking up to him with shopping bags in her hands, in which she shook gently. “I stepped out to get some food to cook tonight.”

“Oh, sorry am I early?”

“No, you’re right on time, we can cook together, what do you think?” she suggested and he nodded happily.

Once inside her apartment, Minhyun settled into the notions of preparing dinner. He found out pretty quickly that Sohee wasn’t the best in the kitchen and took over. It was interesting; he was so used to the playful way you would help him in the kitchen, arguing whenever he tried to take over the dish when your confidence waned. Sohee just stepped aside altogether, watching him as if he was part of the meal as well.

“I admittedly don’t use the kitchen often,” she confessed with a giggle and Minhyun smiled, nodding softly as he focused on preparing the food. He glanced at the multiple kitchen gadgets on the counter and frowned. It sure looked like she knew more than she had shown with all the equipment he had available to use.

“Do you share the apartment with someone?” he asked, wondering if there was someone else who used the tools. They were definitely not brand new.

Sohee shook her head. “Nope, it’s just me!”

“Oh,” he said, internalising the issue as he smiled. “You have a nice home.”

“I’ll give you a tour after we eat, how does that sound?”

He nodded happily. “Sure.”

After dinner, Sohee showed him around the apartment. It was small but nicely furnished and clean. He smiled when he thought of your home, you were entirely chaotic compared. Minhyun was forever nagging you to clean whenever he was over, and sometimes he couldn’t help but clear up some of the mindless piles that you made all around your apartment. At least Sohee was more akin to him with her cleanliness.

“And this is my bedroom,” Sohee announced, opening the door. She stepped inside and Minhyun hesitated in the doorway of her private domain. She gestured for him to step in. “The TV out in the living room doesn’t really work that well, so I thought we could snuggle up in here and watch a movie together?”

“Are you sure? It’s my first time coming over and-”

“I’m comfortable around you, Minhyun,” she stated and he stepped into the bedroom, sitting down on her bed awkwardly. Sohee pulled him gently towards her body as she laid down and snuggled into his side. It was a little overbearing to be this close so soon, but he tried to relax, his full attention on the movie now playing on the TV.

Twenty minutes later, Minhyun could tell Sohee’s attention wasn’t on the movie anymore. Her hand was slowly moving in circles on his chest and then her lips found the junction of his neck and shoulder, kissing soft kisses all up the side of his neck. He didn’t know what to do and just sort of laid there, trying to figure out what he could do or say.

“You’re so cute, you know that right?” she murmured into his skin and he blushed at the compliment. “Someone as deliciously handsome as yourself being so reserved seems so weird to me. Are you playing coy with me, Minhyun?”

“Coy? What, no I-”

She kissed him passionately then, blinding him with desires he didn’t expect to feel tonight. Sohee soon moved deftly over him and straddled his waist, her hips moving against him. Although his body was reacting, it was moving far too fast and he jerked his head back from her kiss.

“Don’t act up baby, I know you want this. I saw how you stared at me.”

“Sohee-”

She kissed his swollen lips again and then smiled seductively. “Shhh, don’t say anything else. Let me have it tonight. I know how innocent you are. I want to take it all. You’re such a turn on.”

“This isn’t a turn on for me,” he announced, sitting up and pushing her off. Sohee was back in an instant, her hands trying to undo his pants. He got out from under her attack and shook his head. “Y/N was right about you.”

“Right about what? That I’m the best thing to ever walk into your life? Minhyun, you should be begging me right now to take your virginity away from you. As soon as I learned you were one still, I knew I needed to have you.”

He gaped at her, now seeing the monster that hid behind the mask. He backed up towards the door and laughed hollowly. “No, thank you. That’s mine to give to who I want to and that definitely won’t be you.”

Banging on the front door and pressing the doorbell repeatedly, Minhyun waited for you to appear in front of him. He had raced here as soon as he had left Sohee’s, hoping you wouldn’t hate him too much. He had so much to tell you, and on the way here, he had laughed multiple times at himself. He had been entirely stupid and blind to everything you had said.

There was only one thing he was glad Sohee had opened his eyes to and tonight he planned to ask you about it. Banging once more, you opened the door and then promptly went to shut it. He shoved his foot in before you could and whined when you connected the door against it.

“Oh my god, why did you do that?!” you cried as he hopped around on one foot, your eyes darting between his injury and his face repeatedly until you offered out you arm for him to take a hold of. Helping him inside and onto your sofa, you groaned. “You idiot.”

“I am.”

“Why would you do that when I was shutting the door as fast as I was?! Do you want a broken foot?”

“It wouldn’t be as bad if it meant you were looking after me,” he mentioned and you ceased in fussing over his foot you had propped in your lap after you had sat on the coffee table across from him.

You then turned back to his sock and gently pried it off his foot. “You have Sohee for that.”

“So you are jealous.”

“What does it matter?” you retorted, gently running your finger over the bruise that was already forming. He winced and you smiled at the reaction.

“Hey, that hurts!”

“Good.” You got up after placing his foot on a cushion on the sofa and then went into the adjoining kitchen area. After returning with some ice in a cloth, you placed it down firmly on his foot. “Better?”

“I can’t really tell just yet,” he grumbled and you smirked. After a minute, he sighed. “Can we talk?”

“Why?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Did you have a lovers’ quarrel with Princess Perfect?” you wondered sourly and Minhyun reached over for your hand. You stared at him, your expression softening. “Are, are you okay?”

“Minus the foot, now I am.”

“Now?”

“I went to Sohee’s house tonight. It was funny, because the whole time I was there, I kept thinking of you. She had all these gadgets in the kitchen yet claimed she was a useless cook. All I could think about was how much fun we have when we cook together.”

“Fun?” you echoed and shook your head. “You’re a control freak in the kitchen! You take over so many times.”

“You laugh so much when we cook though, you always seem so happy sharing a meal with me,” Minhyun pointed out and you diverted your gaze, chewing on your lip lightly. “After dinner, she showed me around her apartment. I couldn’t help but notice how clean she was compared to you.”

“Not everyone is a tidy human, Min! I don’t know how many times we’ve discussed this.” You folded your arms over your chest in a huff.

Minhyun smiled at your antics before speaking again. “And then she took me into her bedroom.”

“Okay, stop there, I don’t need to-”

“To watch a movie,” he continued and you blushed at your hasty assumption. “Though, you’re right. Even I didn’t need what happened next. In fact, you were right about everything.”

“I was?” you asked softly, confusion etched into your gaze. “What happened?”

“Turns out she was preying on me because she somehow found out I was a virgin. She planned to take it away.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You both sat in silence for a moment and then you finally looked at him again, sympathetic. “She didn’t, well I mean you seem-”

“I left before she could do anything. And I told her I wasn’t prepared to give her something that I had the right to decide to do when and with who I choose to.”

“Right.”

“Can I ask you something though?” Minhyun implored, leaning towards you a little. Whilst he knew the reason why he had been referring to you all night long before Sohee had tried to get into his pants, he wanted to confirm the suspicions he had about you before he said anything. “Do you just see me as your friend?”

“Of course, we’re friends. I mean, we haven’t really been lately because I was, well…”

“Was your jealousy over me not spending time with you or because you like me?” he asked when you trailed off and you snapped your gaze to his, unblinking. “Am I right in thinking you like me more than a friend?”

“Minhyun…”

“Because I think I like you that way too. No, I know I do. I didn’t realise just how comfortable I was with you until Sohee showed me. Sure, I was wrapped up in some fantasy about the dream girl. But that’s all she was to me. You, well we have a lot of history together. You know me better than I know myself. And whilst we don’t match in a lot of ways, I like to think we are like puzzle pieces that fit together because of that. You’re messy, I’m clean. You speak your mind whilst I tend to hold back and internalise. You’re the dreamer usually and I’m the realist and-”

“Minhyun, you’re rambling.”

“I am, aren’t I?” he said with a laugh and you grinned, moving over from your seat on the table and next to him instead. He smiled down at you and reached to push your hair behind your ear. “So, do you like me?”

“Do I have to answer right now?”

He blinked. “Well, I uh-”

You cut him off then, kissing him softly. Unlike when Sohee had kissed him, when your lips met his there was a spark that ignited within him instantly. It felt so unbelievably right to have your lips on his, and he lifted his hand to your neck, anchoring himself to you and deepening the kiss.

When it ended you nodded in answer. “I like you, Minhyun.”

“Your lips kind of gave me that impression already,” he said dumbly and then gently pulled you into his lap. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him. “I’m sorry I was blind to what you told me. I should have listened to you.”

“You should have, you’re right.” You reached up into his hair and tugged it a little. Minhyun gaped at you after whining. “I should have said no and told you to get out. You came here after being with someone else and in every book, the protagonist always forgives too easily. I promised myself I wouldn’t do that!”

“But it’s me,” he told you with a smile and then pointed to his foot. “Plus, you hurt me so it’s not like you’re not getting the karma back that you deserved to receive.”

“It is you,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he repeated and leaned in to kiss you again. “And it’s always going to be you for me.”

“How are you so sure? You couldn’t tell Sohee was a witch until she basically had her hands down your pants!”

“Because I know you too well. Now that you have a hold of me, you won’t ever let go.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t prevent the smile that crossed your lips. “You’re right there.”

“And don’t worry, I have no intention of leaving you either. I found my dream girl. She was right in front of me all along.”

_________________

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Do Silent Subliminals Work?

Do Silent Subliminals Work?

Introduction

Yes, silent subliminals and ones with audible music or nature sounds are equally effective.  Below I explain in detail how silent subliminals work.

What Are Subliminals And How Do They Work?

What is Subliminal Messaging?

Silent subliminal messaging tracks are made up of voice recordings that are inaudible to humans.  These are usually positive statements that target a problem area for the listener.

An example of a problem area might be someone struggling to lose weight because of emotional eating habits. Another example could be a person struggling with confidence due to childhood trauma. 

In these examples, subliminal messaging might include positive statements to rewire the subconscious mind and replace negative emotions with positive ones.

Rewire the Subconscious Mind

The subconscious mind is where everything we have experienced is stored – like a huge database.  Your beliefs and self-image are stored here, including limiting beliefs and imaginary boundaries.

There’s a combination of positive and negative stuff that enables you in some ways and limits you in others.

Subliminal messaging bypasses the conscious mind and lets you install more enabling beliefs and disable limiting ones without interference from your conscious mind.  The new programming in your subconscious affects your everyday thoughts and actions.

What Does “Silent Subliminal” Actually Mean?

All subliminals are messages below your visual or audible threshold. They are outside of your ability to perceive consciously.  But, your subconscious mind does receive and react to the stimuli.

Silent subliminal means a subliminal message recorded outside of your ability to perceive consciously and without dubbed music or nature sounds on top. 

So the audio recording sounds like a blank disk or tape. However, if you test the recording in an audio recording software, you can see sound waves even though you don’t hear the message.

How Do Silent Subliminals Work?

Bypass Conscious Mind

Silent subliminal messages are affirmations that bypass your conscious mind and go straight into your subconscious. These hidden positive affirmations are embedded just out of range of your conscious awareness.

Subconscious Mind Accepts Suggestions Without Question

Your subconscious mind begins to accept the suggestions as true after repeated listening. A suggestion to the person at a level beyond the conscious mind goes directly into the subconscious mind. 

The subconscious mind accepts commands without question. It’s just like a small child accepting what parents say with complete innocence. (If you’re a parent, you know that changes rapidly as they get older).

Sneak in Good Code

So you can use subliminal recordings as a way to sneak in good code and bypass your conscious mind where thoughts are blocked and filtered. This way you deliver good, favorable commands in an unnoticeable and repetitive way.

Why Are Silent Subliminals Better?

It could be a matter of your personal preference. You may prefer silent because it doesn’t distract you with consciously audible music or nature sounds.  So you can work without being distracted by music or nature sounds.

You can also enjoy a movie or TV programming without competing audio from a subliminal recording of music or the ocean waves pounding on the surf.

Silent subliminal recordings have the same effect on your subconscious as subliminals recorded over with audible sounds.

3 Subliminal Recording Samples to Compare:

NOT SILENT: Absolute Self Confidence Masked Subliminal (Ocean Surf)

SILENT: Absolute Self Confidence Ultrasonic Subliminal (Silent)

COMPLETE SILENCE: Recording of Silence With Microphone Muted

What Are Different Ways To Absorb Subliminal Content?

Play Subliminal Tapes During Sleep

Subliminal audio during sleep is popular because it doesn’t impose on your productive waking time. With no effort, you can turn your 6-8 hours of sleep time into a personal growth period.

It’s far easier to take advantage of the 1/3 of your day sleeping to eliminate your most challenging issues and replace bad code with good.

Watch subliminal flashes on your computer screen

Subliminal messages can also be transmitted visually. Visual subliminal messages appear as quick flashes on your computer screen. 

You can adjust the flash intervals to meet your comfort level and avoid distractions while on your computer.

Play MP3 subliminal messages during daytime

In addition to subliminal flashes, another great way to use subliminal messages during the day is to listen to MP3 subliminal tracks.

Although it’s best to listen to subliminal tapes before or during sleep when the mind is in a receptive mode, you can still benefit from subliminal exposure during the day.

While awake, you function with beta waves, but new information still enters the subconscious non-stop.

Links To Subliminal Resources.

Silent Subliminals Software

There are many places to get silent subliminal recordings, but few places to get your own software to create and record silent subliminals.

Source Links (DIY Mind Designs has no affiliations with these links) https://subliminalpro.com/silent-subliminal-technology/ https://www.sprudio.net/downloadsilent.html https://www.fiverr.com/search/gigs?query=silent%20subliminals&source=top-bar&search_in=everywhere&search-autocomplete-original-term=silent%20subliminals https://create.christaherzog.com/silent-subliminals/ http://blisscodedsound.com/subliminals/

What can Silent Subliminals Do?

Subliminal messages can target any area of self-improvement. 

The messages are targeted to implant powerful suggestions (some examples):

Losing weight

Increasing self-confidence

Reducing anxiety

Increasing success and prosperity

Curing addiction

Passing exams

Being more positive

Being more optimistic

(Fill in the blank) you want.

Change habits

Silent subliminal recordings can help you get rid of bad habits and adopt good ones. 

Habits are hard to break because they are deeply entrenched, by frequent repetition, into your brain. Habits are also patterns of behavior and breaking the patterns is the key to breaking the habits themselves.

Subliminal messages bypass the conscious to promote establishing new habit patterns with little resistance from the pesky conscious mind.

Change deep-seated thinking patterns

What does Science say about Silent Subliminals

Emerging research indicates that subliminal messages can influence our thoughts and behavior (see Kunst-Wilson & Zajonc, 1980). Subliminal priming can influence choices.

Here is an interesting video about how subliminal priming influences choices:

Other research indicates that subliminal messages in advertising influence purchasing behavior. 

One example is where participants in a study (Karremans, Stroebe, & Claus, 2006) were significantly more likely to choose a Lipton ice  drink when they were subliminally primed with the words “Lipton ice”. 

Still more findings demonstrate the effects of subliminal stimuli.

An experiment by Fitzsimons, Chartrand, and Fitzsimons (2008) demonstrated an increase in creative ability induced by a subliminal message. 

The study found that people could list significantly more uses for a brick after they were subliminally primed with the Apple logo compared to IBM’s logo. 

Flashing subliminal smiling faces caused people to have a more favorable opinion.

Murphy and Zajonc (1993) demonstrated that people who were exposed to subliminal smiling individuals had a more favorable opinion of ambiguous symbols. 

This effect was stronger with subliminal exposure than with non-subliminal.

Participants agreed more with a person after researchers subliminally exposed the participants with a picture of the person. Bornstein, Leone, and Galley (1987) 

Participants agreed more with a person after researchers subliminally exposed the participants with a picture of the person. Bornstein, Leone, and Galley (1987) 

A message about tap water consumption was more persuasive for people who were subliminally primed.

Légal, Chappé, Coiffard, and Villard-Forest (2011) subliminally primed people with the words “to trust” and those subjects found a message about tap water consumption to be significantly more persuasive.

Subliminal Images Influenced Political Attitudes and Voting Behavior

How powerful is that?

Research conducted by Dr. Ran Hassan (Hassin, R. R., et al, 2007) revealed that subliminal messages processed in the subconscious part of the brain reduced the intensity of political attitudes. 

The researchers also found that subliminal exposure to the national flag influenced voting intentions and behaviors. Wow! The voters who were exposed to subliminal images of the national flag voted more moderately.

How To Make Silent Subliminal Messages

The maker chooses well-thought-out affirmations to help people solve specific challenges.

The messaging is sometimes recorded by a hypnotherapist or guided meditation teacher. However, any professional voiceover artist could record the statements.

The audible recording is then modulated, using EQ, to move the audio out of the hearing range of humans. The EQ raises the frequency above the human detection range.

This is how subliminal messages can bypass your conscious mind and go directly to your subconscious.

Conclusion

Silent subliminals do work as effectively as subliminals with audible music or nature sounds dubbed. The silent brand may be better because you aren’t distracted by nature sounds or music. 

Plus, there is significant research showing how effective subliminal messaging can be. Many people have transformed their lives using subliminal programs as part of their personal growth program.

Give it a try and see if you benefit as much as I have from subliminal programs.

Here is a link to my review of the subliminal tool I recommend.

Works Cited

Bar, Moshe, and Irving Biederman. “Subliminal Visual Priming.” Psychological Science, vol. 9, no. 6, 1998, pp. 464–468., doi:10.1111/1467-9280.00086.

Bornstein, Robert F., et al. “The Generalizability of Subliminal Mere Exposure Effects: Influence of Stimuli Perceived without Awareness on Social Behavior.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, vol. 53, no. 6, 1987, pp. 1070–1079., doi:10.1037/0022-3514.53.6.1070.

Fitzsimons, Gráinne M., et al. “Automatic Effects of Brand Exposure on Motivated Behavior: How Apple Makes You ‘Think Different.’” Journal of Consumer Research, vol. 35, no. 1, 2008, pp. 21–35., doi:10.1086/527269.

Hassin, R. R., et al. “Subliminal Exposure to National Flags Affects Political Thought and Behavior.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, vol. 104, no. 50, 2007, pp. 19757–19761., doi:10.1073/pnas.0704679104.

Karremans, Johan C., et al. “Beyond Vicary’s Fantasies: The Impact of Subliminal Priming and Brand Choice.” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, vol. 42, no. 6, 2006, pp. 792–798., doi:10.1016/j.jesp.2005.12.002.

Kunst-Wilson, W., and R. Zajonc. “Affective Discrimination of Stimuli That Cannot Be Recognized.” Science, vol. 207, no. 4430, 1980, pp. 557–558., doi:10.1126/science.7352271.

Légal, Jean-Baptiste, et al. “Don’t You Know That You Want to Trust Me? Subliminal Goal Priming and Persuasion.” Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, vol. 48, no. 1, 2012, pp. 358–360., doi:10.1016/j.jesp.2011.06.006.

Murphy, Sheila T., and R. B. Zajonc. “Affect, Cognition, and Awareness: Affective Priming with Optimal and Suboptimal Stimulus Exposures.” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, vol. 64, no. 5, 1993, pp. 723–739., doi:10.1037/0022-3514.64.5.723.

from DIY Mind Design https://diyminddesign.com/do-silent-subliminals-work/

[alpha-incipiens]

Favourite music of the decade!

This is some of what I’d consider the most innovative, artistic and just great to listen to music from 2010-2019.

First a Lot of very good songs:

Crying - Premonitory dream

Arcade Fire - Normal person

Sufjan Stevens - I want to be well

Deerhunter - Sailing

Foster the People - Pumped up kicks

Carly Rae Jepsen - Boy problems

Grimes - Butterfly

Travis Scott - Butterfly effect

Future - March madness

Kanye West ft. Nicki Minaj et al - Monster

Juice Wrld - Won’t let go

Danny Brown - Downward spiral

Kendrick Lamar - Sing about me, I’m dying of thirst

Kate Tempest - Marshall Law

The Avalanches - Stepkids

Iglooghost - Bug thief

Vektroid - Yr heart

Ariel Pink - Little wig

Mac Demarco - Sherrill

Vektor - Charging the void

Jyocho - 太陽と暮らしてきた [family]

Panic! at the disco - Ready to go

The Wonder Years - An American religion

Oso oso - Wake up next to god

The World Is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die - I can be afraid of anything

And my top 20(+2) albums:

Calling Rich gang’s style influential on trap would be like saying Nirvana may have had some impact on early-90s grunge. In 2019 with trap so omnipresent in popular music, hip hop or otherwise, through the impact of artists like Drake and Travis Scott it’s almost hard to remember when this was a niche genre - it was Rich gang that popularised its modern sound here. Birdman’s beats with their rattling hi-hats and deep bass could have been made 5 years later without arousing suspicion, while Rich Homie Quan and Young Thug deliver consistently entertaining flows and numerous bangers between them. Thugger, this being his first major project, steals the show with his yelpy and hilarious rapping style. This may have once been the defining sound of house parties in the Atlanta projects; now it can be heard blasting in the night from white people’s sound systems around the world.

Early 21p may have never aimed to be cool, to avoid a certain appearance of lameness, but they did have a knack for writing some really catchy pop with an optimistic message. To the devoted, the critics of Pilots’ apparent mishmash of nerdy rap, sentimental piano balladry and EDM production were just stuffy, wanting music to stay how it was back-in-the-day forever and unwilling to get with the times. This viewpoint is understandable when you approach this album openly and actually listen to Tyler Joseph’s lyrics about youthful anxiety and insecurity, delivered with real conviction and sincerity, actually recognise that disparate musical elements are all there for emotional punch. A few songs do underwhelm. But this is emo for post-emo Gen Z’s and it’s easy to see why to some it can be deeply affecting.

The musical ancestor to the ongoing and endless stream of ‘lo-fi hip hop beats’ youtube mixes, chillwave filled the same low-stress niche, and Dive released at the peak of the genre’s relevance. Tycho’s woozy, mellow sound prominently features rich acoustic and bass guitar melodies over warm synths, enhancing the music’s organic feel compared to that of purely digital producers in the genre. The experience of starting this album is like waking up in a soft bed, the cover’s gorgeous sunrise reddening the room’s walls, while a guitarist improvises somewhere on the Mediterranean streets outside. And it is indeed great to study or relax to!

Simple, minimal acoustic guitar and vocals. If you’ve got talent this type of music shows it, or else it doesn’t: perfect then for Ichiko Aoba. Her touch is light, her songs calm, meditative, in no rush to get anywhere. As if serenely watching a natural landscape, one can best understand and enjoy Aoba’s music in quiet and peaceful appreciation.

Through the incorporation of genres like shoegaze and alternative rock, Deafheaven managed to create a rare thing: a metal album that’s both heavy and accessible, needing no sacrifice of one for the other’s sake. Over these four main songs, there’s a sensation of being taken on an intense, atmospheric and even emotional journey, with the band stepping away from the negativity and misanthropy that dominates most metal. The vocals, closer to the confessionalism of screamo than classic black metal shrieks, express more sadness than they do aggression, and in respites between solid blaring walls of guitar and drums, calm pianos and gently strummed guitar passages set a pensive tone. This totally enveloping, flawlessly produced sound can take you away, like My Bloody Valentine’s best work, into a dream or trance.

By the late 2000s MCR had taken their thrones as the kings of a subculture formed from the coalition of goth, emo, scene and other assorted Hot Topic-donned kids, and earned a lifelong place in the hearts of many a depressed teenager. But after the generation-defining The Black Parade Gerard Way took off the white facepaint and skeleton costume, ditched the lyrics about corpse brides and vampires, and embraced an anthemic, purely pop punk sound. The silly story of Danger Days, set in a dystopian California where villainous corporations rule and only the Punks can stop them, serves as a kind of idealised setting for the all-out rebellion against authority and normality that so many fantasised about taking part in. The band’s electrifying performances are the most uplifting of their decade making music. For many diehards the upbeat sound here was a celebration that they’d made it through the most difficult years of their lives, and a spit in the face of those who’d done them wrong.

The teller of rural American tales, the indie legend, the teen-whisperer himself. John Darnielle, long past his early lo-fidelity home recordings and now backed by a full band, loses none of the heart his songs are famous for. The theme of the album, taken straight from John’s childhood when the pro wrestling on TV offered an escape from his abusive stepfather, is complemented by the country and Tex-Mex flavouring to the instrumentation. Some of the best lyrics in his long career infuse the stories of wrestlers with universal meaning - his characters try, fail, lose hope, reckon with their mediocrity, and when they step into the ring they’re up against all the adversity life can throw at them. John Darnielle’s saying that when that happens, you stand up and sock back.

Folk music was always a major part of the Scandinavian black metal scene during its peak years, so when American musicians began exploring the genre naturally they incorporated American styles of folk. The complex, oppressive and sometimes hellish compositions here, starkly contrasted with bluegrass that sounds straight from the campfire circle, give the impression of life in the uncharted woods of the American frontier, in the middle of a brutally cold winter. Almost unbelievably, one-man-band Austin Lunn plays every instrument on the album: multiple guitar parts, bass and drums as well as banjo, fiddle, and woodwinds.

Andy Stott seems to delight in making his music as unnerving, haunting, perhaps even scary, as possible. The female vocals these songs are built around become ghostly, echoing and overlapping themselves disorientingly. The percussion, audibly resembling metal clanging, rustling or rattling in the distance, is often left to stand for its own, creating a tense space it feels like something should be filling. UK-based club and dub music can be felt influencing the grimy almost-but-not-quite danceable rhythms here, but the lo-fi recording and menacing vibe makes this feel like a rave at some sort of dimly lit abandoned factory.

There’s so much Mad Max in this album you can just picture it being set to images of freights burning across the desert. True to its title, the nine songs on Nonagon Infinity roll into each other as if part of one big perpetual composition, with the end looping back seamlessly to the start and musical motifs cropping up both before and after the song they form the base of. With its fuzzy, raw sound, bluesy harmonica and wild whooping, the Gizz create a truly rollicking rock’n’roll experience. The band would go on to release 5 albums within twelve months a year later, but Nonagon shows these seven Australian madmen at the height of their powers.

Sometimes you just want to listen to fun, hyperactive pop. The spirit of 8-bit video game soundtracks and snappy pop punk come together to create a vividly digital world of sound that seems to celebrate the worldliness, connectivity and shiny neon colours of early 2010s internet culture and social media. The up-pitched vocals and general auditory mania recall firmly Online musical trends like nightcore and vocaloid, while the beats pulse away, compelling you to dance like this is a house party and the best playlist ever assembled is on. It demands to be listened to at night with headphones, in a room lit only by your laptop screen.

“You hate everyone. To you everyone’s either a moron, or a creep or a poser. Why do you suddenly care about their opinion of you?” “Because I’m shallow, okay?! … I want them to like me.”

The fact that that Malcolm In The Middle quote is sampled at the emotional climax of this record should give some idea to the absurdity that defines Brave Little Abacus. It’s not even the only sample from the show on here. And yet the passion and urgency so evident in Adam Demirjian’s lispy singing and the band’s nostalgia-inducing, even cozy, melodies are made to stir feelings. The tearjerker chords and guitar progressions are so distinctive of emo bands with that special US-midwest melancholia, and they are interspersed with warm ambiance and playful sound effects ripped from TV and video games, seemingly vintage throwbacks to a sunny childhood. Demirjian’s lyrics, yelled out as if through tears or in the middle of a panic attack, verge on word salad in their abstraction, but that’s not the point: you can feel his small town loneliness and sense the trips he’s spent lost on memory lane. The combined effect all adds to Just Got Back’s themes of adolescence and the trauma of leaving it. While legendary in certain internet communities for this album and their 2009 masterpiece Masked Dancers, the band remains obscure to wider audiences.

These Danish punks know how to convey emotion through their raw and dramatic songs. Elias Rønnenfelt’s vocal presence and charisma cannot be ignored: his husky voice drawls, at times breaks, gasps for breath, builds up the deeply impassioned, intense force behind his words. The band sounds free and wild, unrestrained by a tight adherence to tempo, often speeding up, slowing down or straying from the vocals within the same song, as if playing live. Instrumentally the command over loud and quiet, tension and release, accentuates the vocals in crafting the album’s pace. Horns and saloon pianos throughout give the feel of a performance in a smoky, underground blues bar, with Rønnenfelt swaying onstage as he howls the romantic, distraught, heartbroken lyrics he truly believes in.

At some point on first listening to Death Grips, a thought along the lines of “He really yells like this the whole way through, huh?” probably crosses the mind. When Exmilitary first appeared, quietly uploaded to the internet, the rapper’s name and identity unknown, another likely reaction among listeners might have been “What am I even listening to?” But perhaps more revolutionary than Death Grips’ incredibly aggressive sound and style might have been its foreshadowing of how over the next decade underground rap acts would explode into the mainstream through viral songs, online word of mouth and memes. It showed all you needed to come from nowhere to the top of the game was to seize attention, and it did that and far more. MC Ride’s intoxicatingly crass, intense rapping captures the energy of a mosh pit where injuries happen, the barrage of sensations of a coke high, while the eclectic mix of rock and glitchy electronics on the instrumentals is disorienting in the best way. If rap were rock and this was 1977, Death Grips would have just invented punk. Ride’s lyrics paint a confrontational, hyper-macho persona; unlike much hip hop braggadocio, the overwhelming impression given is that Ride truly does not care what anyone thinks. He just goes hard and does not stop. It’s music to punch the wall to.

Inspired by classic rock operas, this concept album represents some major ambition and innovation in musical storytelling. Delivered in frontman Damian Abraham’s gravelly shouted vocals, the complex lyrical narrative of the album follows a factory worker, an activist and their struggle against the omnipotent author (Abraham himself) who controls their fates. Featuring devices like unreliable narrators and fourth-wall breaking, it takes some serious reading into to untangle. But it’s the bright guitarwork, combining upbeat punk rock and indie to create some killer riffs, that gives the album its furious energy and cinematic proportions.

Joanna Newsom is enchanted by the past. Like 2006’s ambitious Ys, the music on Divers makes this evident with its invocation of Western classical and medieval music, throwing antiquated instruments like clavichords together with lush string orchestration, woodwinds, organs, folk guitar and Newsom’s signature harp. With her soulful, moving vocals leading the way, it’s hard not to imagine her as some kind of Renaissance-era country woman contemplating nature, love and mortality in the fields and the woods. As always Newsom proves herself a stunningly original and creative arranger with the sheer compositional intricacy and flow of these songs, and most of all the harmonious intertwining of singing and instrumental backing.

Burial’s music is born from the London night: the bustle of the streets, the faint sounds from distant raves, the buskers, the rain on bus windows. This EP’s dreamlike quality makes listening to it feel like taking a trip across the city well after midnight, watching the lights go by, with no idea where you hope to get to. Every single sound and effect on these two songs is so precisely chosen, from the shifting and shuffling beats, the swelling synths and wordless vocals that sound like a club from a different dimension, the ambient hiss and pop of a vinyl record. Musically this sound is drawn from UK-based scenes like 2-step and drum ‘n bass, but twisted into such a moody and abstracted form as to be nearly unrecognisable as dubstep. Just when this urban, dismal sound is at its most oppressive, heavenly soul singers or organs cut through like a ray of light in the dark.

There’s an imaginary rulebook of how construct music, how to properly make tempos and combinations of notes sound harmonious, and Gorguts have spent their career ripping it up and throwing it in the bin. On 1998’s seminal Obscura, their atonal experimentation sounded at times like random noises in random order. But listen closely to Obscura or Colored Sands, their return after a long hiatus, and the method behind the madness emerges. One mark of great death metal is that it’s impossible to predict what direction it will go even a few seconds in advance, and the band achieves this while presenting a heavy, slow, momentous sound. The density of inspired riffs, and the intricate balancing of loud and quiet, fast and slow paced throughout these songs are exceptional. In instrumental sections the guitars will echo out as if across a barren plane, then the song will build up to the momentum of a freight train. Behind the crashing and twisting walls of guitar the patterns of blast beat drumming are almost mathematical in nature. Luc Lemay’s harsh bellows sound like a warlord’s cry or a pure expression of rage to the void. It’s threatening, menacing, unapproachable, but it all makes sense in the end.

Futuristic yet deeply retro, Blank Banshee’s music takes vaporwave beyond its roots in the pure consumerist parody of artists like Vektroid and James Ferraro and makes it actually sound amazing. Songs are built out of a single vocal snippet processed beyond recognition, new agey synthesisers, Windows XP-era computer noises, hilariously out of place instruments, all set to the 808 bass and hi-hats of hip-hop style beats. The genre’s pioneers intentionally sucked the soul from their music using samples pulled from 70s and 80s elevators, infomercials and corporate lounges - here the throwback seems to be to the early 2000s childhood of the internet, and the influence of a time when email and forums were revolutionary can be felt. The effect of this insanity is an album that whirls by like a techno-psychedelic haze: the atmosphere of dark trap beats places you squarely in a 2013 studio one moment, the next you’re surrounded by relaxing midi pianos and humming that a temple of new age practitioners would meditate to. Still, at some point when listening to this album, perhaps when the ridiculous steel drums kick in near the end, you realise that this is all to some degree a joke, and a funny one. It’s hard to overstate what an entertaining half-hour this thing is.

While 2012’s Good Kid, m.a.a.d City presented a movie in album form of Kendrick’s childhood and early adult years, TPAB’s journey is one of personal growth, introspection, and nuanced examination of the state of race in post-Ferguson America. It’s simultaneously the Zeitgeist for the US in 2015 and a soul-search in the therapist’s office. Sounding deeply vulnerable, he openly discusses depression, alcoholism, religion and feelings of helplessness. The White House and associated gangstas on the cover give some idea to the album’s political themes, with Lamar contrasting Obama’s presidency to the political powerlessness and lifelong ghetto entrapment of millions of black Americans. Everything I’ve written about the lyrics here really only scratches the surface because the words here are substantive, complex and dense with meaning. Near enough every bar can be analysed for multiple meanings and interpretations, essays can and have been written on the overall work, anything less does not do justice. The musical versatility on display is astounding: the album acts as an extravaganza of African-American music, from smooth west coast G-funk to east coast grit, neo-soul and rock to beat poetry, and most of all jazz. Like an expertly laid character arc the record progresses through its ideas in such a way that they’re all impactful, with the slurred rapping imitating a depressed drunken stupor followed later by exuberant, defiant cries of “I love myself!”, the white-hot rage against police brutality balanced by the hopeful mantra: “do you hear me, do you feel me, we gon be alright”. Perhaps the most culturally significant album of the 2010s and an essential piece of the hip-hop canon.

This harrowing hour chronicles the struggles and everyday tragedy of a series of characters and their relationship with the city they live in, narratively driven by some outstandingly poetic lyrics. Jordan Dreyer’s wordy tales despair at the poverty, gang violence and urban decay in the band’s native Grand Rapids, Michigan, an almost childlike open-hearted naivete in his words as he empathises with the broken and alienated people in these songs. There’s no jaded sneer or sly lesson to be learned as he sings about the child killed by a stray bullet or the homebird left alone after all their friends move away, just genuine second-hand sadness and a dream that compassion and community will eventually heal the pain. Taking elements from bands like At the Drive-In’s fusion of punk and progressive, and mewithoutyou’s shout-sung vocals, La Dispute hones its sound to a razor edge to put fierce instrumental power behind the lyrics. Not an easy listen, but a sharply written songbook and a perfect execution on its concept.

Around 2008, Joanna Newsom met comedian Andy Samberg. Within a year, their relationship was becoming the basis upon which the poetry of Have One on Me was spun. Newsom’s lyrics, exploring her relationship with her future-husband, nature, death, spirituality, are above all else loving. Through her warm and vibrant voice, at times an operatic trill and in others deeply soulful, she expresses the joy of love for another, the peace and earthly connection of her beloved pastoral lifestyle, deeply affecting melancholy and grief. Contemplative, artful, genuine or expressive: every lyric in every sweet melody is used to offer her ruminations on life or overflowings of passion.

More so than her previous and next albums, the feel of the album is of not just a folkloric past but also the present day, with drums, substantial brass and string arrangements, and even electric guitar anchoring the sound to Newsom’s real, not imaginary, life in the 21st century. Yet songs here with moods or settings evoking simpler lifestyles and the women living them in 1800s California or the Brontës’ English moors still have a universal relevance. Whether rooted in past of present, the instrumental variety of these compositions, from classical solo piano, grand orchestral arrangements led by harp, to the twang of country guitars or intricate vocal harmonising, makes it apparent that this is the work of a master songwriter in full command of well over a dozen talented musicians. Ultimately, what makes this my favourite album of the decade is that, very simply, it is one stunningly beautiful song after another, all collated into a cohesive 2-hour portrait of Newsom’s soul.

[engelchenyugi]

Someone to believe in

Rivalshipping is one of the ships I actually see working out in canon-verse which is more thanks to Takahashi and his illustration for them.

(It feels great that one of my head-canons turned out to be realistic enough for even the mangaka to consider as a possibility.（๑✧∀✧๑）)

I see them forming a business relationship. Kaiba who came back from the Ancient times and made his peace with Atem now has to keep his eyes open in order to find a new rival which is Yuugi. There are quite a few things about Kaiba's and Yuugi's relationship people often seem to overlook. It wasn't Atem who first saw through Kaiba's mask but Yuugi. Yuugi who always had been an outsider in his class must have been used watching people.

He learned to read them because he adapted to them. He never wanted to make people angry or have them think ill of him which of course lead to him being more or less ignored by his classmates. Yuugi has shyness issues in the manga and he can't really say what he thinks as he fears hurting other people or being misunderstood. The manga explains Yuugi's personality, his complexes and how he deals with the people around him perfectly. When the manga starts, Yuugi has been in his class for quite a while but to the reader it is described in a way as if Yuugi was new there. He explains the minor characters and seems to have a lot of knowledge about them although he never actively talked to them. This way of narrative is pretty interesting and unusual.

He is wishing for friends and wants people to see him which is interesting as it shows that Yuugi has spent a lot of time just observing the people around him which explains why Yuugi can tell if someone lies or tells the truth. He has the ability to look through other people's lies which became all the more clearer when Kaiba exchanges his Blue Eyes White Dragon card with a copy.

No, even before that, we see Yuugi look at Kaiba with some kind of concern. He knows that Kaiba is up to something and he is sweating. Kaiba is smiling. Kaiba is acting. He acts like a normal teenager and if we see the whole picture, Kaiba is loved by the masses and he has fans all around the world which is also explained by the shareholders of Kaiba Corporation who only choose Kaiba as the CEO because of his popularity and his reputation among gamers. Kaiba is known as a genius. More than that, he knows how to manipulate people and make them like him. Kaiba is faking a smile and acts like a likable and kind person – which he is absolutely not, as he is pretty devious, self-centered and so full of himself.

Yuugi was the first person who ever saw through his masquerade and Kaiba should have paid more attention to Yuugi and not only to Atem. This is something he will learn after DSOD. I'm pretty sure that Kaiba will accept Yuugi as his true rival (since he already did acknowledge his skills in the end of DSOD) and that they will get closer in a human level during their work on Spherium. I like to imagine how this change slowly comes to them and how Kaiba more and more understands how much he needs people around him, especially his brother and Yuugi. Although Kaiba would never say so, he does need people around him, because if he is all by himself he is rather destructive. He pays no attention to himself and easily gets absorbed in his job, fully forgetting everything around him because he can't deal with his own weaknesses.

And this is something I find very interesting. Yuugi has full right to hate Kaiba. To avoid him, but he chooses not to. Yuugi makes a decision which is surprising to the reader (mostly to Jounouchi) and to Kaiba. He calls Kaiba a friend, saying that they have the same passion and that they're alike. He visits Kaiba in the hospital, fully knowing that he is not going to wake up. This alone shows that Yuugi has forgiven him and that he is even worried about his well-being. The man who put his friends in danger and tried to kill them. The man who would captivate him and make him face his own weaknesses. It's so difficult to understand why Yuugi would forgive him after everything he's done. It’s easy to say that Yuugi is in general a kind boy, but it’s not like he can’t be angry or hate people. Even Yuugi can be quite unforgiving and hold grudges, but there must have been something he gained from his encounter with Kaiba – something he realized during Death-T he wouldn’t have been able without him.

Kaiba and Yuugi have some kind of special bond between them and both know that. Maybe Yuugi is grateful to Kaiba because only due to Death-T he was finally able to address his true feelings and the possibility that there might be someone else inside him that is taking control over his body once he loses consciousness. He needed an extreme situation to say what was bothering him. Without the severe situation they were in, he would have never had the guts to tell his friends his fears. It was the whole situation, facing deaths and not knowing what's happening next, that made him despaired enough to address this matter – which was a good thing and helped him to overcome his fear and realize that his friends would always be there for him, even if he had another person inside him. 

Yuugi calls Kaiba a friend. He offers him help. Both manga and anime. He never shows negative feelings towards the man who put him into hell and even laughed at his misery. There is a lot of respect between them, especially coming from Yuugi’s side who would address him with “Kaiba-kun” while Kaiba would just call him by his forename. Yuugi has a lot of respect for Kaiba and seems to admire him in a way. Yuugi, just like Atem, considers Kaiba a noble duelist. And this way of thinking, the way he sees Kaiba, is to me really exciting to explore.

Kaiba must have realized that, too. Kaiba knows what a kind person Yuugi is and that it makes no difference for their awkward relationship whether he pushes him away, because Yuugi keeps coming back. Yuugi does not give him up and that is something Kaiba needs. Kaiba needs a person who is willing and able to stand up against him and does not mind being rejected. Kaiba rejects Yuugi so many times and shows him that he does not believe in his friendship-is-magic bullshit that one should think Yuugi would finally give up on him. But the more often Kaiba rejects him, the more likely for Yuugi to come back.

And that's why I like their relationship. Kaiba is an asshole and Yuugi still chooses to be nice to him and call him a friend. This whole relationship is messed up and the older they get, the more Kaiba will understand how important Yuugi is for him.

Personally, I really have problems imagining Kaiba in a lovey-dovey relationship because he is does not like showing his weak sides since he is afraid people might take advantage of him. Due to his past with Gozaburo he was taught to suppress his own emotions and strive for success. As the mangaka said, Gozaburo truly thought that this was the best and he actually considered himself a good father which is why he never realized the slowly growing madness inside his son. Furthermore, Kaiba truly regrets having killed his father. He considers himself a patricide and this burdens him. Even stated by the author of the manga:

“To Kaiba, he was a father, but he just wasn't a "typical" father. When he carried out his administration shift, Seto didn't think that Gozaburo would die. Now without a foe due to Gozaburo taking his own life, he slowly started to lose his sanity. He himself felt guilty of committing "patricide." Being an important keyword in this series, the word "patricide" always haunts him. You could say Gozaburo implanted the design that "games equal death" into Seto.”

Kaiba has emotions. Kaiba is easily manipulated. Kaiba is a human-being and it's not like he never regrets anything. There are plenty of things that haunt him. He is obsessed with crushing the past and find a way to the future, because he himself can't go on. He can't do that. He can't forget his past and is chained down by his memories. He needs to repeat these words so often not to convince Yuugi-tachi but himself. Fighting against his own emotions, his past and bounds to other people gives him strength and he seems to believe that this is the only way to reach the future. Abandoning anything around you is the only way to focus.The only way to create a path to the future is to destroy everything. Kaiba tends to think in extremes. All or nothing. Black or white. There is no middle way and he is not willing to accept any other people who oppose his way of thinking.

I'd like to quote something that Takahashi said about Yuugi's and Kaiba's relationship:

“[...]Seto searched for the meaning in fighting said to take down your opponent down in a game on your own. Fighting, and, for example, what's known as war, is a battle between two nations, while Seto considers fighting a personal war to the bitter end. That's why I think Yuugi's character is so significant. Seto, without Yuugi as his rival and without an enemy that he must topple, would not be able to exist.“

Kaiba can't exist without Yuugi, because he would choose the path of destruction and lose himself. Although the mangaka is talking about Yami no Yuugi, rather Atem, it’s something that I see as a general character trait of Kaiba. Kaiba needs someone who gives him a reason to keep fighting, someone to believe in. As shown in DSOD, Kaiba can't deal loss. He absolutely can't. He would never openly admit it or say it out loud, there is a special connection between him and Atem. (I know that the dub destroyed this moment and made him say something he wouldn't say, but I just ignore the bullshit America once again came up for Yuugiou and instead pay more attention to the original version.)

Kaiba does not need to say what he thinks, because it's obvious. His expression shows how he truly feels and that this rivalry-thingy he has going on with Atem is much more than that, equaling the love to an important brother you need to have by your side to realize your own mistakes and show you the way. Atem is Kaiba’s mentor. Kaiba is focused so much on Atem that he can’t see the world around him anymore. That’s just what he is and even in the future, Kaiba will need someone who gives him a reason to be alive. Someone who motivates him to grow and improve and the only one fitting for that role is Yuugi. Yuugi is the only only capable of handling him and has proven that he is worthy to be his next rival.

The movie makes sure to show that Kaibas has a place to return to and that meeting Atem is not the last or the ending of his journey but only a stepping stone to a brighter future where his past stops haunting him.

And later on, it's Yuugi who will fill this role, even going far beyond that. Working together, sharing their passion for games and being able to live their dreams and make anything happen they desire will help Kaiba to regain his humanity. Of course, he will never go head over heels for Yuugi and tell him how much he loves him, because his actions and his looks are enough to ensure Yuugi that Kaiba absolutely treasures him.

[mentalcurls]

1. Sembri una pu***na

So I started the all-Skam Italia rewatch last Sunday and it turns out I have a lot to say about it. Like, four pages on Word of stuff to say. It took me three days to get evrything out and make it readable. So here, for you reading pleasure, my thoughts on ep.1 season 1 “Sembri una pu***ana”. There’s some kind of heavy stuff and I draw some parallels to my personal experience, since I was, unce upon a time, a teenager and a student at the same school all the highschoolers in SkamIT attend, and I’m also beginning to do the Bechdel test on the episodes!

The montage at the beginning is really powerful when you link the images from Giovanni and Eva’s class’s time at the Succursale to Gio’s essay, that Eva’s reading in the background, in particular the first part: LudoBesse is basically telling us how much of a waste Eva thinks her and Laura’s friendship is to Laura now

Something else about Gio’s essay (as someone who attended classico): it’s a YES from me because criticizing liceo classico is peak classico culture, it’s a HELL NO because classico is actually the best school in the world and I sincerely hope that if anyone else but himself said/wrote that kind of stuff about his school Gio would be at their throats

Eva has that “seeing someone outside the school gates and static fills your ears” moment just like Marti when he sees Niccolò for the first time! Hers is of course with Laura and Sara, who are with... Silvia and Fede! I like that they showed us a bit of this friendship that we didn’t really get to see in the og.

Martino and that iconic first “A zozzoni!” ❤️

Marti and Gio are competing for who got the best grades in the History test and I have a lot to say about this: we know Gio has really high grades (we are told he has an average of 9/10 in Latin and he got 8,5 in History) and that thing he does, bragging about it with his friend, the friendly competition between them, the actual talking about his grades without worrying who’s listening to him? That shit wouldn’t have flied for me, a once-upon-a-time student of liceo classico with an average of 8/10 in Latin, 8/10 in Ancient Greek and 9/10 in History and in part it was because I didn’t have the best classmates, but for the most part I couldn’t have done that because I am a girl (and my friends and classmates were 98% female)

girls are socialized to be humble about accomplishments, first and foremost, to avoid bragging AND humblebragging as well, and to always care about other people and their feelings; basically, whenever the topic of marks and grades came up while I was in high school, I had to try my best to avoid disclosing my own; if they were brought up directly, say them as dispassionately as possible and then try to change topic; I had be conscious of the fact I was talking someone who had much worse grades than me most of the time, so I had to keep into mind their experience of finding things I found doable (like translating from Latin) extremely hard, of disliking subjects I enjoyed (and most of the time the professor who taught them too, especially when they’d recently gotten a bad mark) and of being frustrated by their grades. I could never have competed with any of my friends about who got the highest marks (most of the time there was actually a sort of “gallows humor” competition over who got the lowest). I couldn’t show I was happy about my good grades, because I’d get negative comments from my friends (yes, even close friends, people I get on with and love to this day) who would dismiss my accomplishment as obvious, something that came easily to me because I was a nerd (the translation in Italian is “secchiona” and it doesn’t have any of the “cute” connotations pop culture gave its English counterpart) and something I shouldn’t “show off”. On top of that, if something was hard for me, it was whatever and what right did I have to complain when I had such high grades anyways, it wouldn’t be a problem in the long run.

So yeah, Martino and Giovanni, right now I kind of hate you for not having to take on any emotional labour in these kind of situations and society for socializing males and females in different ways when it comes to accomplishments and for accepting different behaviours from boys and girls.

QED Gio and Marti turn to Eva and ask her about her mark, she’s reticent but they get an answer out of her (that is not even the truth) and they mock her for it. Yes it’s all fun and games but Eva’s mark is really bad compared to Giovanni’s and Martino’s (especially her real mark) and grades are important for teens, no matter how much they deny it, if nothing else then because they influence their relationship with their parents

you can see Eva is hurt by their careless mocking, by Gio’s fake attempt at placating with “stuff she’s good at” (among which is re-heating pre-cooked food which is at the same time a way to have her “stay in the kitchen” and not even be able to properly cook) and by the way he and Marti underestimate her and laugh at her in the following exchange, when Marti shushes her and she calls him “asshole” with that annoyed face. It’s silly, “loving” mockery but it affects people anyways and it shows a lack of empathy only guys are allowed. She’s expected to take it with good grace (and this takes additional emotional labour) because it’s just for fun and they’re friends and they don’t mean it, but it’s not fair

“There are no secrets in a couple, but there aren’t between friends either.” THE WAY MARTINO PUTS HIMSELF ON THE SAME LEVEL AS EVA in Giovanni’s life, straight away! This boy. And Gio agrees! That shit must’ve been so frustrating, poor Eva.

This conversation  between Gio, Eva and Marti: G: Today we’re going to Elia’s place to study. E: Oh, so that’s what you’re calling it now, studying. M: Oh c’mon, 6 minus, shhh. is the beginning of the reoccurring dynamic between them in the season that will make Eva paranoid and will bring her to confronting Laura and to cheating aka Giovanni keeping a secret, lying to Eva about where he goes and what he does, Martino enabling him by misdirecting or distracting her or Gio doing it himself, then either or both the guys calling her crazy or paranoid for doubting their words. You know what’s that? It’s called gaslighting.

[Gaslighting means manipulating a person by psychological means into questioning his or her own sanity. It’s the same technique that, according to some of his critics, Donald Trump used to get gain traction with voters (see Trump giving “alternative facts” and dubbing the media that fact checked and corrected him “fake news”).]

[I’M NOT SAYING THAT GIOVANNI IS THE SAME AS TRUMP, I DON’T THINK THEY’RE THE SAME, I only want to present an example of how this form of psychological manipulation is an actual thing in the real word and is really effective and dangerous.]

I am aware that Giovanni is just a dumb teenager trying to hide his weed habit from his girlfriend, that Martino is just being a good bro and covering for his best friend, that they’re doing this without any malicious intent towards Eva and that she’s insecure all by herself. Still, gaslighting is not a behaviour our societies should excuse, especially because it’s usually practiced by the usual suspects over women and minorities. I’d never seen it pointed out in the context of Skam Italia so I thought I’d bring it up, especially in light of S2 and of the “unproblematic” label Gio’s been given. He’s not perfect, he does shitty stuff too, then afterwards he simply grows up and becomes better. Let’s not forget about it and celebrate the person he’s become.

Case in point is the whole 1.2 Online clip. This is conversation between Eva and Gio: G: My battery died. E: But you were on-line. G: No, I wasn’t, my phone died a couple of hours ago. E: But I saw you. G: Eva, I don’t know how it happened. There must be something wrong with my phone, I don’t know. Sometimes I see you online and you’re not, too. I mean, everyone knows it happens. We can Google it if you want. E: No, it’s okay. And where were you? G: At Elia’s. E: Till now? G: Yeah. E: That’s weird. I talked to Martino earlier and he said you guys left a while ago. G: Eva, what’s wrong? Martino left earlier and I stayed till now. What, you don’t believe? Don’t you trust me? Are you insane, uh? [G kisses E] Everything’s alright. Little koala? Little koala always works. [G carries E to her room, then they have sex.] Giovanni lies about his phone being dead, then tells Eva that her seeing him online is impossible or a fluke, that everyone knows those kind of flukes happen, then lies again about being at Elia, when she tries to expose him he adjusts and starts questioning why she doesn’t believe him, finally calling her crazy and distracting her with kisses and sex. This is gaslighting.

(I had actual chills as I watched the scene again and typed this.)

Those theatre kids are so awkward, but quoting weird passages from greek/latin/italian poetry by heart is peak liceo classico culture

unsupportive boyfriend Gio shows up again when Eva suggest they go to the Easter party: his first reaction is “What? Why? You don’t even like that”, so savage, but fair Eva reminds him he’s actually a loser who, at 16, plays card to have fun with his friends like a 60 year old

Gio is being an asshole, he only considers going with Eva’s suggestion in exchange for something, then guilts her into accepting his “deal” bringing up Marti’s difficult family situation and her grades, implicitly, by promising to volunteer for the philosophy oral test, plus he’s rude and insensitive af because he brings up her inviting a friends when he knows fully well that when they cheated on Laura she got completely cut off

this will show up again, but let me just start to say it in the first episode: how unfair is it for Eva to be suffering most of the consequences in her life for getting together with her best friend’s boyfriend, when Giovanni faces no consequences that we know of for cheating on his girlfrien? And how unfair it must feel, deep deep down, to Eva

then, when she agrees, he takes back his side of the deal and Eva has to say it’s fine, it’s nothing because he says sorry and that’s socialization kicking in, telling her not to be difficult, not to be needy and not to complain cause that’s annoying and girls guys want to date are not any of those things; honestly, the emotional labour Eva has to go through

that getting ready montage, Eva really goes full on revenge mode like Lady D and she’s fully feeling her oats

the first dress Eva tries on is the same we saw Laura wearing at the party, but Eva’s red while Laura’s blue: I put all my money o it being a dress they bought together and on it being kind of their go-to dress, Eva thought about wearing it to remind Laura of their friendship but in the end decided it would only make things harder

oh, the conversation with Laura at the bar. God, if the situation is this tense can you imagine being in the same class as her and as Gio six hours a day everyday? We’ve talked about how shit it must have felt for Niccolò to be in the same class as Marco Covitti in S2, but Eva’s situation is awful too. I wonder how much of that factors in her bad grades and troubles with school

how more people don’t ship Italian Evanora is beyond me, have you seen this interaction?

on the other hand, I wonder how much Eleonora thought about it later, about how she must have come on too strong, about how maybe Eva thought she was weird or hitting on her and how much that weighed on Eleonora not reaching out first again, cause she makes a face like she regrets her life the minute Eva walks away

it breaks my heart, honestly: Eva has just been told she’s a whore by someone she once considered a friend, but when she finds this person’s new friend, who she doesn’t know, crying in the bathroom she doesn’t bat an eyelash, reassures her and tries her best to help her (so much emotional labour that women “naturally” take on themselves because we’re taught to be empathetic and caretakers even when we’re ourselves in distress)

one question: if Federico Canegallo is as popular as the Villa crew seems to be, how the hell does nobody know him when Eva is looking for “Fede”? Besides, Silvia doesn’t even react to the fact that he’s a friend of Edoardo’s when she sees him in the bathroom!

the interaction between the two Fedes kills me in every version

ok fuck you Silvia for not even saying thanks for trying and looking at Eva like she’s a decerebrate

Bechdel test: the episodes passes the test because of the conversations between Eva and Laura (nice 😑), Eva and Eleonora (though they’re mostly talking shit about other girls, so still not very good) and Eva and Silvia (though we actually don’t know her name yet at this point, we can only guess it from context, so it’s borderline). So this is cute.

This post is part of my complete series of meta about Skam Italia season 1.  If you’d like to read more of my thoughts about the other episodes, you can find the mastepost linked in the top bar on my blog under SKAMIT: EVA. Cheers!