#but it makes this echo chamber where the only people worth listening to are the rest of the Trusted Members

[scattered-winter]

really really really fucked up how the only way out is through and i can't help them

[sophieinwonderland]

Now, why would you dare me to embarrass you and your pals like that?

I appreciate how you wanted my attention so bad you posted me to not one, but two subreddits.

Makes a girl feel special! 🤣

I have actually never seen Wikipedia cited as a source about endogenic plurality. Though I do see anti-endos all the time, when asked for sources, telling people to just Google things.

Anyway, here's @guardianssystem's document filled with academic papers about endogenic plurality:

I've compiled my own, but honestly, theirs is better organized than mine.

And in the interest of fairness, here are all the anti-endo papers debunking endogenic plurality:

Sorry, I forgot. Those don't exist. Oops. 🤷‍♀️

Echo chamber? LOL!

Weren't you the one spouting a bunch of lies on Tumblr, got totally debunked, posted the people who debunked you to r/systemscringe to have a hugbox where fakeclaimers could assure you how the people who contradicted you are all fakers, and then blocked everyone who disagreed with you?

Weren't you also the one who, when shown a quote from an expert in dissociative disorders who worked on the DSM-5 saying that a disorder isn't a disorder if it doesn't cause distress, argued that the people who defined what disorder are must be wrong about that definition?

You're a misinformation machine who can only find support when huddled in cringe subreddits. Don't try to talk about people in echo chambers.

Also, you know most of psychology is just... listening to people? That's how it's been as long as the field existed. DID (or MPD at the time) was a recognized disorder since long before the first brain scans were conducted on DID patients. It's saying something though when basically every single scientist who has ever researched endogenic plurality has said they believe it's a real thing, or that it could be. While absolutely zero academic papers have expressed that it's fake.

There is also an fMRI study into tulpa systems that's been in the works, but results have yet to be published.

Sure, if that's what you'd like me to call you, Crazy. 😊

Anyway, Crazy, you should know that just because you personally find something scary doesn't mean everyone will or that the thing is bad. Personal preferences are a thing.

In a study of tulpamancers though, most generally reported their lives becoming better after the practice.

78% reported improvements in their mental health, and 91% on overall life.

There are many out there who would jump at the chance to have someone there with them that knows them intimately, and to never have to be alone again.

If it's not for you, then so be it.

But it's certainly not something to be afraid of.

And maybe, for those who are willing to commit to the practice while America struggles with an epidemic of loneliness, it's something worth being open to.

This is actually pretty fair.

But that's now, and I'm looking at course of history and trends of plural acceptance.

300 years ago, any plural would be viewed as demon possessed and end up tortured or killed for their plurality.

70 years ago, all plurality was seen as a mental illness, and it was common to force plurals, as well as anyone else associated with mental illnesses, into asylums.

30 years ago, the first real plural communities were able to connect on the internet and form in small numbers.

8 years ago, the first studies into endogenic plurality started being conducted. 4 years ago, the ICD-11 acknowledged that you could have multiple distinct personality states without a disorder. 2023 marked the first, but certainly not the last, time a system used their system name as an author of an academic paper.

Recently, new plural resources have been designed and put into use. More servers than ever are using Pluralkit. And Simply Plural went from 100k users at the end of 2021 to 210k at the end of 2022.

Progress is happening far more rapidly than you realize. And you had best be ready for it.

BOO! 👻

Oh, hey, I just realized... this is literal pluralphobia!

Liberté!

Egalité!

Fraternité!

And yes, The Future is Plural! 😜

[chaosresturantjandn4eva]

I wanted to share my two cents on today's #MentalHealthMonday subject.

I work in veterinary medicine, which you would think is a field that couldn't be further away from being celebrity of any kind. Yet I can see multiple parallels especially with the negative aspects. (Clinical) veterinary medicine is a field that is both worldwide and in my own country heavily affected by immense pressure of high, sometimes even unrealistic expectations, constant scrutiny and wide scale of emotions (and often lack of money). And nowadays social media plays a huge role in it, and not only for the good.

(Veterinary) medicine is a world that demands perfection, and people (like me) who work in the field are often conscentious perfectionists. Medical workers, like celebrities, frequently find themselves stripped of their humanity. We're of course not objects for entertainment, but we're often subjected to an almighty position, where, much like celebrities, our worth is measured solely by our ability to "perform" our job and please clients, rather than our well-being. I can 100% relate to being under a microscope, where every mistake is magnified, and grace is rarely afforded. It's no surprise to me that studies show that veterinarians often struggle with anxiety, depression and burnout. The suicide rate in the field is also relatively high. An American study shows veterinarians are three to five times more likely to die by suicide than the general population. The probability is significantly higher among female vets.

Online targeting and shaming is very common in the field. The problem is that (disappointed) clients can say things online that get taken out of context and start spreading around, changing and growing like a snowball. Everyone gets to say their opinion of us. The lines between our work and our persona always blur in people's minds, much like with celebrities and their work image vs their real persona that the public never truly knows. Everyone gets their say - except us. We're bound by vet-client-patient-priviledge. Celebrities may not have legal bindings that prevent them from defending themselves in the public, but it's still often counterproductive in the current online environment which tends to become an echo chamber for criticism and judgement.

It's bad enough that the shit-talking, speculations etc. are out there for everyone to see (including the subject and people close to them). What probably makes it even worse for celebrities is that it seems like people take their opinions directly to them.

Everyone deserves compassion and empathy. Instead of spreading opinions as facts of their personal life, celebrate their work while recognizing their humanity. Like CQ so well said, behind every public figure is a person who deserves respect and kindness. (And if you have an issue with your veterinary service, make a complaint like with any other business. Don’t take it online. Vets are human too.)

#EmpathyOverJudgement is now my favourite hashtag.

P.s. sorry for the long form depresso!

Listen today is the day you bring us your depresso so we can help you carry it.

We need to start treating all people like exactly that…. People.

[perfectlyvalid49]

I just want to say that your words about feeling like you yourself are becoming radicalized resonated with me. I was already growing fed up with the current state of leftism and this just seems the last straw. The black and white thinking, the purity culture, the blood thirst – I’m just done.

I’m not even Jewish in any meaningful way (my mom hid/disavowed that part of her ancestry growing up in the soviets). I’m just a very mixed queer person whose ethnicity is best described as ‘uhhh.’ But my social circle has always been largely Jewish, and recently many of said social circle have had to up and leave their home country. In many cases, Israel was their only option. So seeing thousands of people who are supposedly on my side thoughtlessly chant ‘from the river to the sea’ just broke me. Seeing people try to prove that it’s not antisemitic has been mind-boggling. “It doesn’t explicitly call for violence against Jewish people.” Well, nor does ‘Jews will not replace us,’ and yet…

I deleted my social media at a really low point, and now that I’m back I find myself mostly following Jewish blogs. And I feel my worldview shifting because where before I had hopes that things that frustrate me on the left could maybe be fixed, now I no longer think it’s fixable.

Sorry for rambling from this Schrödinger’s gentile

Hi Anon,

I’m glad I could write something that spoke to you.

Before this blog became so focused on the conflict in Israel, I talked a lot about US politics, a topic I’ve been interested in since I was in middle school (I’m weird and nerdy – get over it). And to be clear, I’m “old” for the internet, so middle school means the 1996 presidential election, which I remember discussing with my friends at lunch (they were also weird and nerdy, there’s a reason we were friends).

So when I say that I’ve been watching other people get radicalized for a long time, I mean it. I’ve watched friends fall into information silos and have felt helpless to stop it. I mean, the best man at my (very Jewish!) wedding is now a trad-Cath who thinks I’m going to hell because I refuse to accept Jesus into my life.

There has always been an antisemitism problem on the left. You can scroll through just about any blog on jumblr and look at posts prior to October and you can see that we were all bitching about it before the 7th. I’m not sure if it has actually gotten worse or if it’s just more obvious now, but we can say they seem radicalized now. Honestly, there’s nothing I can do about it, because they certainly aren’t going to listen to me – I’m a filthy (((Zionist))) after all.

But there’s at least a handful of Jewish people who are listening to me. I’ve picked up a score of followers in the last few months, so clearly you all think what I have to say is worth reading, so read this: I worry that at least parts of the Jewish community are headed down a bad path and I don’t know what to do about it. I know why we are blocking and unfollowing so many – the things they say are hurtful at best and terrifying at worst. But it leaves us in a situation where it’s the same few voices being repeated over and over. It doesn’t mean that we are radicalized, but I worry that we’re headed toward an echo chamber at least, and that’s not good. I’ve left a lot of leftist spaces behind. I’d prefer to not have to do that with Jewish ones as well.

I don’t have a solution other than that we need to be really careful and think about how we’re thinking about things if that makes any sense. The example I gave last time was moving from “you can be anti-Zionist without being antisemitic” to “anti-Zionism is antisemitism.” How did we make that move? Was it motivated by logic or emotion? It’s ok to change your stance, but with the way things are I think we really need to think about why we’re doing that, or it could lead to a bad place.

Back to the anon who is losing hope – that’s tough, and I can see why you feel that way. There are two thoughts that I repeat to myself to keep me hopeful. The first is that on a long enough timescale, things tend to improve. There’s lots of small steps forward and stumbling backwards, but overall we tend to move in the right direction. The other is that trying and failing and not trying at all have the same result. Maybe we won’t have a big effect. But if I can tell 30 people and even three of them can tell 30 people and so on, then maybe my words can reach at least one person and help them pull their heads out of their ass. And that’s better than nothing.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Fic idea: Omega travelling somewhere Extra: the 4 monsters (Mar'i Lian and the twins) causing chaos wherever they go

Y’know what’s funny? Lian and Jai call their kids “the monsters” too 😂😂

Enjoy Omega on Tamaran!

————————

When Mar’i invited them to Tamaran for a month, Omega couldn’t say yes fast enough. After hearing about it for so long, they’d been excited to see their friend’s home. Sure, figuring out the translators was a hassle, but so worth it. None of them had see Mar’i smile as brightly as the moment they arrived.

Mar’i’s stories didn’t seem to do Tamaran justice. Hell, the palace alone seems larger than she described. White stone colums in each large room. Corridors so long their voice echo. Each of their chambers seemed larger than necessary. Then again, most Tamaraneans tower over them.

After the fiasco with Alpha, they finally get a chance to admire the palace. Mar’i had done the normal things—Throne room, gardens, library. But then she show them her favorite places. Aside from her mother’s room, which she carefully avoids, they see where she’d play hide and seek. Where she and her mother curled up to read or play games. The nursery, where she’d spent her childhood, still has remenants of the little girl she was.

None of them expected the pictures. Queen Koriand’r had several photo albums from her times on Earth. One was simply labeled “Daddy”, containing news articles and pictures of Dick. Lían and Ma’i had been shocked to find a picture of Kor’i holding a baby Lian. Their hearts ache seeing so many pictures of a young Mar’i with her mother. In most of them, Mar’i seems fascinated with something or someone else; her mother only has eyes for her. A warm, fierce love for her daughter, like Mar’i was her whole world. While they don’t say it at least not to Mar’i, they wonder how much it hurt to lose that love.

As much as being back excites her, Mar’i seems…different. It’s one thing to know their friend is royalty, to see the glimpses here and there; it’s something else to see her consumed in that role. Milagro, having privileges from Mar’i as a Lantern representative, told the others about some of the meetings. How Mar’i listened to each issue and each councilors’ ideas on how to address it. Always looking to help as many of her people as she can. She greets each person she comes across by name, or at least with a respectful gesture. While everyone responds with respect, it’s clear they do it out of habit. At meal times, Mar’i seemed like her normal self—bubbly, carefree, like she’s exactly where she wanted to be. Maybe she was.

But there’s a heaviness in her eyes, no matter how hard she masks. She holds herself back in conversations, even ones on her favorite things. A permanent tension in her body worries them the most. The beautiful gowns and robes she wears each day are, just that, beautiful. Matching the diadem resting across her brow. But they look almost like a costume on their friend, weighing her down more and more.

When they mention it to Galfore, Mar’i’s k’norfka/pseudo grandfather, he hadn’t been surprised. For some reason, that surprised them. It shouldn’t have, he did raise her after all. The old k’norfka did tell the group what got a younger Mar’i out of her head. It took some careful maneuvering and some manipulations on their end, but—

“C’mon!” Mar’i calls ahead of them. She keeps spinning on her toes, making sure they’re following her, half dancing as she does, skirts flying around her. The heaviness in her eyes lifts as they approach the local village, “There’s a bakery Mom brought me to all the time, they’ve got these cakes, better than any on Earth! Mil, there’s a dress shop you’ll love!”

“There’s our Ri.” Lian murmurs to Colin. “Been missing her.”

“She’s got a planet to look after, Li.” The meta reminds her, but he’s smiling as their princess dances ahead. “But yeah, been missing her too.”

The villagers seem to be preparing for some festival, hanging glowing lights and streamers from trees and buildings. As Mar’i passes them, several call out. Not like someone greeting a ruler. No, like they really know her. If Galfore’s to be believed, and her mother took her here to be ‘normal’, most of them probably do.

“Princess! Princess!” Four young children—three girls and a boy, all with fiery hair— run up to her. Gathering her skirts, Mar’i kneels to meet their eyes.

“Well, hello!” Most of them expect her ‘Princess’ voice. But she just sounds like…Mar’i, “It seems you all know me, but I don’t know you.”

One of the girls steps forward, chest puffing out, “I’m Lexka’ar. This is Shar’ri.” She gestures to the smallest of the girls, then the other two children, “Then the Zumka, P’laria and Rond’ar.”

“Zumka?” Lian asks. Something about the girl reminding the archer of herself.

“It’s the closest word we have for twins.” Mar’i explains. She brings the side of her cupped hand to her chest, extending it to each child. Their translators waver, Mar’i’s Tamaranean coming through clearly, “X’ntal qu zumka. Irri zat j’ai.”

Irri and J’ai. It’s like they’re 9 years old again, meeting the princess for the first time. Irey had been taller than Mar’i then. Offered her hand in friendship without hesitation. How is it the same scared 7 year old from that day is the same young woman before them now, giving the children her whole attention.

Standing, Mar’i points to a shop, “Milagro, that’s the dress maker I was telling you about. They know you’re coming. Have fun.”

“I love you too.” Milagro laughs, pulling Colin behind her. The princess turns to the twins and Lian.

“We,” she says confidently, “Are playing a game with the kids.”

“What kind of game?” Jai asks.

“It’s like four square but better.”

Watching them move to join the kids, Damian notices an odd expression on Jon’s face, “Penny for your thoughts.”

The Super shakes his head, smiling at his girlfriend as she talks with the children, explaining the rules of the game to Lian and the twins, “She’s going to be one hell of a queen.”

Damian nods, “That she is. Ready to be King?”

“King?” Jon snorts, “I’ll be Mar’i’s arm candy, have no doubt about that.”

His best friend nods, not bothering to hide a grin of his own, “At least you know your place.”

[raxistaicho]

“Let us maintain our echo chamber!”

@bowbowis got into a spat with ButWhatIfIDoThis and (sigh) Dimitri’s Lethal Cock today. I can’t directly reblog because the former blocked me, so here’s my best method of throwing my own two cents in.

I’d like to preface this by first urging you not to engage with Teaveetamer, Bowbowis. I have never seen a person so stridently determined to be the victim to the point that goes looking for victimizers. I ultimately blocked her because she’d routinely reach out to me essentially attempting to goad me into debunking her takes (she seemed incensed that I didn’t even know who she was for a couple years) so she could then say what an awful thirty year-old I am. It’s just not worth it, don’t feed the trolls.

But there is one thing I’d like to add my take to:

So like, fuck off maybe? If you can't stand the fact that people don't like Edelgard

For myself, I don’t mind that people don’t like Edelgard. Like if a person thinks, “I dunno I don’t agree with her starting a war,” then what more is there to say, that’s a reasonable take.

I just like debunking the claims of people spreading nonsense like, “she’s racist!” “she’s trying to reconquer Adrestia’s old territory!” and “she wants to take over the world!”

...The last is Fantasy Invader, naturally.

Basically it’s much akin to Logicked arguing with people on you tube. You’re basically getting mad at me for daring to disagree with you on my own blog. Literally the only reason most of you are even aware that I’m still at it is because you keep picking at your own scabs by keeping an eye on my blog.

then fucking block them already instead of making whiny strawman posts in tags where they don't belong?

Nah. I like the content to debunk. It’s fun.

We took our ball and went home months ago and you keep trying to break down the door and demand we come out. We don't wanna play with you anymore.

No, and I hate this metaphor. You guys aren’t in your houses and we aren’t breaking in.

You’re at the park, speaking to each other and occasionally talking with people who pass by. I disagreed with some of the things you said and started up a conversation, most of you weren’t interested in listening to disagreements, so instead I shrugged, walked about ten feet away, and began doing the same.

And you guys are pausing occasionally to scream at me for listening to things you’re saying in a public space and demanding I leave the house none of us are in.

[newyorkkiss]

How did u initially get into Spoon, what was the first song/album you fell in love with and why?

↑ me explaining things

strangely, it all started nearly a decade now when i was still venturing out and crafting my own tastes. i would frequent a little (now long since shuttered) record store in my tiny town, i saw they want my soul’s album art and was enamored and intrigued by it. iirc it was maybe a week or so after release bc it was store pick and at the front desk so i probably wouldn’t have seen it otherwise! then saw the bands name was spoon and thought that was just really… bizarre. stupid even. anyways i ended up memory holing it for 8 years until last year when i was doing a watch-through of noel era never mind the buzzcocks and somebody (cannot for the life of me remember who, definitely came from phill’s side though) *i think* said something about stupid band names, like “what’s next? [word], [word], spoon?” and i was like WAIT A MINUTE… i know there’s a band named spoon and i too thought it was absurd. subnote is for a long time i conflated spoon with elbow, i’m not entirely sure as to why, but i do recall a grief councilor i was speaking to around the same time suggesting i listen to elbow (still haven’t done it! sorry!) and i think the oddness of the band names and time period overlapped. elbow is mentioned more than a few times on buzzcocks too so that sort of reminded me a bit too, but it wasn’t until i actually heard it said i was like yeah. i have to dig in on this. maybe a week later i was on a train-ride into the city and was like yeah maybe i should listen to they want my soul and u can basically say thee rest is HERstory or something.

here’s the canonic first three ↓

inside out was unlike anything else i’d heard from a band of that genre and we ALL KNOW how mid to awful most of-the-era alt/indie rock bands sounded when they started incorporating synthetic elements to their music. it’s just so ethereal. magical. beautifully crafted from silk strands colored cobalt. it’s unlike anything else on that album let alone their entire discography. the fact they managed to pull that off so perfectly is more than a testament to their talents and ability to make good fucking music. name one of their contemporaries that has pulled off some electronic elemental incorporation as perfectly as this. i really don’t think you can.

anyways i pretty much just listened to twms two or three times in full after that for a good while until about mid july where i must of off handedly heard something from it again and was bored enough to begin the deep dive. kept on revisiting things and it all just sort of spiraled badly by that point and by august they were the only thing i was listening to and it only got worse. coincidentally it all tied in with a massive relapse so they were and still are, a comfort in that mess.

i managed to break 5k scrobbles on them like 4 days before i flew out to see them too which is just absurd 😭

anyways in the midst of that i was so bored i was like i have to dig into britt’s lore but for what it’s worth when i first saw a pic of him i was legitimately terrified by him. the combo of the blond hair and tall gauntness actually frightened me. but the scariness turned to intrigue and now we know where i sit on that subject. then i started to occasionaly post abt it here after my beloved twt echo chamber were revolted by my new white man of the every 6 months. then spoon anon reached me and i was like Wait people actually kinda gaf so i pretty much exclusively do that here 😭😭😭😭 i rarely even self posted the way i do now before this because i couldn’t make it not feel weird.

onto the final part of me deciding to see them coming from a place of actual if i don’t do this i’ll regret it guilt because i’d massively gotten into pavement like 8 months earlier and they toured here just as i was really into them and didn’t see them when i could have. it was kind of coincidental spoon were touring here just as i was really like… fixating upon them i think. but obviously it was worth it to see them!!!!!! and i would see them a million times over, genuinely. if they ever float towards you PLEASE GO SEE THEM. also me seeing them was a kind of mentally momentous occasion for me as i essentially describe myself as a hikikomori. the last time i’d ever attended a gig was in 2016 on my birthday, and i was with friends. never in a million years did i think i’d chalk it up to attending something like that alone given i’ve been felt up by drunks and crushed against barricades at the two shows i’d actually attended prior to them. that coupled with the fact i’ve always been terrified of being outside my house alone made me deciding to leave the entire state on a flight to see them all on my own really important. so thank you spoon for breaking me out of my own safety bubble lol.

in conclusion; spoon is very literally americas greatest band

a funny note is that prior to all of this i was an enjoyer of the preatures debut album blue planet eyes and imagine how 😳😳😳😳😳 i was when i found out jim produced that. really great album btw. the copy of it i’ve had rotting away on my bedroom shelf for the last 7 or something years may have been a sign… fate or something lol 😵‍💫 also funnier is way way way back in ‘13 when i first heard is this how you feel? i for the longest time thought it was a haim song which is even more hfjrhdhdh now that we know alex was in a proto-haim and best friends w them. at least it’s funny to me!!!!! fate brought me spoon i think… it was meant to be ❤️

[thecicadasong]

I think echo chambers are normal, because naturally we’re only able to appeal to the emotions, desires, and states that we know to exist or have existed within ourselves when we’re appealing to other people.

So if you don’t know and accept jealousy in yourself; you’re not going to be able to appeal to that in others as you lack the inner understanding needed to appeal to such a state.

We see those with one view appealing to certain emotions within others; they know how others appealed to that emotion within themselves and now how do it to others. For example, missionaries often target the fears they have experience of as to convince others to take the same position as themselves. Without the direct experience of those fears, and without having been appealed to through those fears, one cannot appeal to them in another.

And so the types of rhetoric people are using reveal a great deal about the types of rhetoric they themselves are or have been vulnerable to at some point. Those who shame someone in a bid to appeal to another’s desire not to receive shame can only do so because they have been made to make certain judgements due to such shame. Those who appeal to the hurt in another when trying to make them make the judgement they’re unworthy - that they may hurt them - may target ‘looks’ if they themselves are moved in such a way. If their self worth is based on intelligence or strength they may say or somehow suggest to the third party audience that you’re stupid or weak; because they appeal to the parts of themselves they know in others. Someone moved by the threat of violence might appeal to that same fear in others as they’re threatening them; within their appeal is the reveal of how they too can be or have been moved.

This is where autistic people get confused. Or at least I as an autistic person, but k think the concept goes.

Basically, NT appeals to ND as if they’re NT and it doesn’t work. Then it’s implied there’s an issue, when really the issue is a misapprehension about what kinds of appeal work for us and what work for those who aren’t us. Instead of learning a different type of appeal, we’re abused and conditioned to conform and assimilate to the ‘non-deviant’ way of being; which kills us before we die physically. So I’d like this to be understood. It takes a lot to affirm to yourself you’re not so bad in a world which screams otherwise towards you because of it’s own misapprehension. Honestly, I’m only made aware I’m ‘deviant’ when around NT’s who suggest or tell me directly that I’m wrong and that my natural way of being is undesirable. I get why autistic people are being autistic in the way they be being autistic; but I find it so hard to understand why someone would say, use an argument whilst themselves being a hypocrite and act in any way as if they have the right to be listened to. I don’t get why people obey without question and then blame others for their having followed along for their own comfort and convenience. I don’t get why it’s normalised that every form of life is made into money and objectified.

I see this things as NT. Not that ND can’t and don’t do them, but naturally I believe we’re less inclined. Most autistic people are born animistic, this to me is of spiritual significance and doesn’t at all mean I’m disordered as it’s told to me. Where does consciousness come from? We don’t know. So we say it’s a product of atoms coming together in specific ways. What is everything? Atoms. It’s more natural to assume a wall is conscious than not. It is more normal for me to assume the materials around me which form my body and which allows for this phenomenon that I am called consciousness to occur are conscious than not. Why wouldn’t they be; if they themselves are the very material that allows for consciousness?

I don’t even believe consciousness is dependent on form, but if you want to go ‘scientific’ with it, it doesn’t make sense to exclude consciousness from a theory of everything when the lens that theory of everything is made and viewed from is consciousness. Your reference frame matters in physics; have you even asked the question if consciousness is in motion, or if observed phenomena appear different depending on the state of the consciousness viewing it? As say you would for a field from a reference frame of stillness and a reference frame in motion?

To have a scientific instrument it needs to be calibrated really precisely for certain work. I don’t get how you can do science without first knowing your mind and the instrument through you measure other instruments through. It makes no sense to me. Roger got a Nobel prize for his work that suggests consciousness is a consequence of the collapse of the wave function; which is a product of gravity. So gravity causes the collapse, and consciousness is a result of the collapse.

I still don’t agree really. Cause he also says we make decisions from the future in the quantum realm, and that someone who kills themselves chooses to do so after they actually die in the physical, and their choice goes back retrospectively to effect the past. Which tells me that my future self is going to make a decision to fuck this version of me over cause that’s exactly the kind of spiteful I am. And apparently, I’ve probably already decided in the future and I’m just waiting for that choice to come back to the present; waiting for my future choice to arrive and kill me now.

[commonfeministblog]

Check your ego at the door, but not mine...

Listening to: Diamond Jubilee - Cindy Lee

I find myself running into roadblocks lately that take the shape of a man with an ego problem. Women, queers, people of colour, non-binary humans who run wild with talent and beauty are squished by the patriarchy over and over again.

This isn’t news to anyone, we know this and we have known this our whole lives.

I’m a musician and I fear that musicians may harbour the worst type of man out there. He picked up a guitar at 13 years old and never looked back. Spending hours on his bedroom floor playing the classics, one day dreaming of being a rockstar and never having a thought deeper than what the 6 strings in front of him presented.

It’s dangerous, our own echo chambers. They keep us from progressing. If you’re only ever surrounded by blue, you’d never know the beauty and vibrance of yellow, or pink, or green. The same goes for the man surrounded by yeses. He becomes the lead guitarist and singer, despite not having the ability to hold a tune. He’s uplifted by men around him who were never put in situations where they needed to fight for their own rights. If it doesn’t bother them THAT much, then why would they make a big fuss?

Now bring in a women who can sing, who can ply guitar, or bass, or whatever instrument. She’s better than them because she has to be to compete, but it’s not a competition because she’s incredible.

When she objects or makes a change, his ego is bruised. He storms off, or shuts down and mutters “I don’t care, it’s not that serious”, but it would be if he had the idea. She notices his behaviour because it stings in a familiar way. It stings in the same way as when someone repeats a joke you just said, but they were louder or more important, so they’re given all the laughs.

It keeps happening. She brings it up because it feels unfair, “he’s just like that because he cares”, “that’s just how he is”. Dismissed. Why would other men fight for something so trivial? It’s not that big of a deal. Why make a big fuss?

Radical feminism is over, didn’t you know? Now instead of being publicly shamed, we’re shushed into the back row. You still get a seat, just know where it is and don’t move from it.

I hope that anyone who’s feeling small will listen to that little voice of encouragement. The voice that’s telling you “wow, you’re incredible, you should be centre stage”. Fighting is tiring, but it is worth it.

- S

[purrality]

chest feels really heavy. hard to breathe. not sure where the line is between heightened anxiety and panic attack sometimes, think ive kinda been floating between em. it's funny to think about. does it "count" if you only hyperventilate for a few seconds before everything dries up just long enough to get back to the state just shy of being full-on triggered? doesnt matter ig.

it's so fucked to know exactly why it's happening. i hate not being able to tell people why the most innocuous shit is so hard for me and having to eat it over and over. i hate that just THINKING about letting anyone see me like this gives me panic attacks. i hate that when i push through and do it anyways i cant admit the desperation it takes to ask for reassurance or to be sat with. i hate that writing about it makes me feel like i cant fucking breathe again when im trying so hard to find something, fucking anything to just give me some relief.

so whyyyy the fuck cant i just feel ok? why cant i shake this feeling? tried expressive art and I even liked how it came out, tried eating food I like, tried diving straight into the hurt and examining the trigger and working on my shit. all of it makes things feel just a little better, im not spiraling and thinking of suicide anymore, but it still feels really bad. I still feel like no amount of anything I ever do is going to fix these stupid fucking reactions wired into my stupid fucking body.

im scared that im getting worse. im scared that dealing with everything alone all the time is fucking up the way i think more and more, like a depression echo chamber constantly confirming that we cant talk to anyone about anything anymore or they'll either smother me with worry until I have to be the one reassuring them, or they'll confirm for me that if they care, they can't stand to do it for long. it always feels like too much. i feel like it must suck to know me, let alone to care. at least if im not hiding all the time.

i dont want to. i feel like a liar and general piece of shit. but when i do hide, im easier to tolerate, even if not all of me/us is/are worth the effort. i know no one knows me. not me as a whole, and especially not me in particular. everyone feels like strangers, if they haven't done awful things to me. it's so disorienting to have the memories anyways. it's even more disorienting when the rest of us forget and have to put together what happened later. i wish i could tell them more clearly what's going on and ig this is a part of that. seems like we dont touch our journals unless we're writing in them, but we do come back here a lot.

maybe come back and answer this later. i dont have one myself for now. im tired and you can do what you want whenever im gone but i dont want to talk to you or anyone else tonight. but what i want to understand is, why are we still alive? i ask that question all the time and i can never think of a reason that feels right. i know there's got to be something. im pretty sure it was wesley that stopped us way back when. so. why? and have you been listening this whole time?

im dissociating a lot now. finally calmed down. i think this has been going on for like 4 hours. exhausting. it was def panic attacks. gonna lay down

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

Titanic | Erik | Post-Trial Reaction | Re: Results, Airika + Erik A, Rose

It's done, then. 

He'd returned to his seat after declaring the truth, because he was honestly just done with this trial. Having to listen to Just Erika speak her diatribe on the subject of death had him on the verge of snapping, but in the time there is left before the end of the trial, he decides it's really not worth it trying to convince someone who wouldn't (or couldn't?) let themselves be convinced. What's another voice to be drowned in the echo chamber between her and the person he once considered a friend? What did he really have to say to xem?

And when the results are revealed and they speak their mind, the only thing that registers in Erik's mind is how pitiful Rose ended up being. There are still the smallest shreds of sympathy remaining, the remnants of what he once considered a nurturing friendship. In one horrible decision and an even more horrible mistake, both of the people he'd invited to spend Christmas back home in London as friends would be snuffed out, and the person ultimately responsible for this mess would walk freely among them afterwards. Not that Rose wasn't equally as, and perhaps even more responsible for Cosette's death. They're not making excuses and neither is he going to for them.

But there's a part of the even, dead look in his eyes as he regards them that still winces when Byrne and Airika shuts them down with deserved indignation. It's not that he doesn't think ne deserves it, and in fact, part of him wants his even dues. Cosette might have been living on borrowed time, but it was time he and so many others were committing to making the most of, and it had been snuffed out through the genuinely despicable opinions expressed by these two.

It's the two pairs of arms around him that snaps him out of his metaphorical mind doomscrolling. Airika and Erik A are both here, and as they ground him despite Airika's own shaking frame, he forces himself to finally breathe in. His shoulders had been tensed since the start of the trial where he was denied the chance to be around people other than their illustrious hosts, especially since Cosette had passed, and he'd clung onto them both like lifelines in the sea of doubt he'd fallen into. His trust in people had been dealt a heavy blow, and now all he could do was try to put those pieces back into place.

...And yet, there was something he still had to do. No, not had. Just wanted. His hands find his two friends, gently shrugging them off himself as Erik steps away. Sidestepping a cowering Eureka (hah.) and walking briskly past Erika with only a glower in her direction, he approaches Rose from the side Erinys once stood. 

"Part of me genuinely wants to hurt you. If not for me, then for the agonising minutes you both put Cosette through in the time between when they were struck by your outlandish plan and when they finally expired. But I think it's for me in the end. You asked why any of us trusted you to begin with? Did it occur to you that we would have wanted to help you if we knew?" He sighs. "I should hate you. No, in fact, I do. Now I'm forced to think about every interaction we've had over the last two weeks and wonder how much of our friendship was genuine, and how much of it was you taking advantage of me like you did for Erika and Cosette. And if I should have ever given you the time of day, knowing what you would do to me in return. Knowing what you could've done to me if I was the one who had wandered into the infirmary instead of her. Knowing you hadn't trusted any one of us enough to prevent all of this."

He closes his eyes. "I do not forgive you, but..." Erik steps forward, and draws her into one last tight hug. "...For the times we had, even if they might not have meant much to you. They were real to me."

As he lets go, however, his hands find theirs, unbuckling the clasp around both of their gloves. His gloves. "These were meant to be an offering of friendship and trust, and as that friendship and trust has not been duly returned in kind, I will be taking them back for good." Erik remarks, with only a slight scowl indicating how hurt he'd truly been by the betrayal. But it's enough to be seen, enough to be known. "Safe voyage, Rose. This is where I let go."

And when it is done, he slinks away from her and back to his podium. It's done, then.

[cheekygreenty]

Good 4 u - The Darkling x Reader

Here’s a draft I found, I remember quickly writing this on the train home from college, listening to Olivia Rodrigo’s song on repeat until I got sick of it. Enjoy bahahahah 😂😂

Alina this, Sun-Summoner that, Sankta Alina the other. It was annoying to constantly hear her name on other people's lips, Aleksander's especially. You should have known his obsession with her would turn into love but you were blind.

He said she was nothing worth his salt, Alina is the key to more power, he would say before he proclaimed his eternal love for you, showering you in love and pleasure. When your relationship fell apart and your heart broke, he took a piece of you with him, the temperate part, the side of you that was calm and rational. For now you were the walking form of resentment. He never cheated but this was much worse.

Aleksander didn't seem fazed, at all. No tears for the death of so many good memories, no sadness for the end of a chapter in his life. Maybe he experienced time differently from you because who in Saint's name pursues somebody so quickly after a breakup? Somebody who's already sure of their feelings long before they change their life around.

You held back your gags as you watched the two fawn over each other at the Winter Fete. She wore his color, black, and you had to admit she looked half decent in it too. You didn't hate her, she never did anything to you. But him, Oh saints you would kill him where he stood if you could. He looked happy, unlike you. It's like we never even happened, what the fuck is up with that?

There was a time when he looked at you like that, eyes full of adoration and love. Now he looked right through you, treating you like a stranger. 'He took out the trash' Zoya shrugged when you drunkenly told her what happened. Maybe she was right, maybe he never even loved me, maybe I was there to pass the time.

He was so unaffected by your break up it made you livid. Every glance spared in his direction radiated anger and disgust. You didn't even try to hide it anymore.

Your demonstration was about to begin. You were helping the Inferni twins show off your fire skills before Alina would end the show with a bang. You didn't care for parties shared with the Grand Palace and were guaranteed to leave right after your little firecracker of a performance, but some part of you itched to stay until the end.

You could see Polina get up on a small pedestal, signaling for you to get to yours. Aleksander stepped to the side, Alina at his arm. Gross. The power beamed off of him, he was doing good without me. What a shame.

You played around with the twins, completely forgetting the room of diplomats and even Aleksander, who never spared you a look. The fire felt good on your hands, swaying from side to side as you molded the element in your hands before splitting it in two, shooting it at the twins. Using your powers gave you a sense of calm and peace, but it never rid you of the rage you felt. Maybe you were too emotional.

You got down with a smile as the claps eased out. You went to leave, eager to leave the stiff atmosphere of the room. At least you showed up. But his voice made you stop at the door. Instead of it giving you a shiver of pleasure, it straightened your spine in defense.

'Her name is Alina Starkov' Someone pass me a bucket. His hands came together, submerging the room into darkness. Alina began her show, the light letting you catch a glimpse of him. As opposed to the entirety of the room, you only had eyes for him. He looked at her as if she was a goddess, he worshipped her. Fury rose in you. He looked at me like that first, or was it a lie? Maybe he never cared.

You wished for nothing more than for Alina to reject him, see him for the man he truly is. If he could play you the way he did then Saint's knows what he'll do to the poor young girl. You were headstrong and stubborn and he still managed to screw you over despite your built-up walls.

But what if they last? He'll have more power, the Sun-Summoner by his side and Ravka under his rule. And you'll still be you. An Inferni with a grudge.

Before you knew it, the room returned to its previous state and the diplomats were bowing down to their Sankta. You missed the whole thing brooding over Aleksander, who still stared at Alina like she was the air he needed to breathe.

You scoffed and walked away, not wanting to be in the same room as him anymore. What a dick. You strode around the Little Palace trying to cool down. One champagne glass turned into two then five. Still you felt the nagging tickle of anger. You suddenly heard shouts and signs of a fight, racing over to the room it was coming from. Even tipsy, the soldier in you replied immediately.

'This is for Zlatan' You ran through the door seeing an oprichniki slicing Alina's throat open. Oh Saint's no. You pounced on the man, quickly catching sight of Genya already on the floor tending to Alina. Apparently, you weren't the only one who heard the scuffle as the General's guards flooded the hallway, taking the rogue soldier from you. Your mind snapped back into reality, searching for Alina but finding a young Inferni in the black kefta. A double for security. Smart.

'Inform the General' Genya spoke, leaning over the body. Your blood ran cold, he would probably ignore you. But you did as she asked, running to where you saw him last. You searched for his black kefta in the sea of extravagantly dresses diplomats. You spotted Ivan chatting in the corner with Fedyor, 'Ivan where is the General?' You hid your blood-stained hands behind your back in an attempt to prevent unnecessary panic. 'In his quarters' He nodded his head towards the big double doors.

You walked away with a mumbled thank you. In his quarters. If Alina's absence was any indication of what he was doing, it would be a miracle if you didn't slap him the second you got the chance.

Your knock was sharp and loud in contrast to your shaking hands. Then you heard it, her laugh. You've got to be kidding me. Your bloody hands braced themselves against the doorframe, clutching the wood for dear life. Better the door than his face. As his face passed in your mind, the door opened just a tad, his body towering over your own. The smile he wore quickly washed away, replaced with a stern look.

'Y/N what are yo-' You stopped him with a signal of your hand, you didn't have the patience.

'Marie got attacked in the fitting room. She's dead. He's detained.' He looked at you passively, obviously wishing it was anyone but you knocking on his door right now.

'Wait here'

He shut the door again. But you could make out his conversation with Alina in the dead quiet of the hallway. You sent a silent prayer to the Saints about your previous argument. Let her see him for what he is.

You slowly backed away from the door, not wanting to hear anymore. You heard his boots step out into the hallway and took his silence as a sign to walk ahead to where the man was being kept. For you, the tension was awkward and insufferable but for him it was probably normal, although you knew he felt your pulsating rage.

There was nobody on this side of the Palace, his quarters weren't available to everybody and that made you thankful because what you were about to do would definitely be regarded as treason.

He didn't have time to register you turning around or the hand that slapped him across the cheek.

The noise echoed down the hallway, your hand stung, maybe that was too hard.

His jaw clenched but he didn't retalaite. Why was his ignorance such a trigger for you? It was what started this, him pretending you didn't exist caused you to fly off the walls.

You shoved his chest with all your might. Do something. He let you push him away but never looked you in the eyes.

'Are you going to say something?' You were furious, venom dripped from your words but had no effect on him. 'The big bad Aleksander lost for words? First I've ever seen it'

He turned his head towards you, looking into your eyes for the first time in weeks. It surprised you because you didn't miss it.

'What do you want me to say?' His voice was void of any emotion, no anger or pain, his composure never dropping. He was the complete opposite of you. Saints, you were the crazy ex.

You didn't reply. The truth was you didn't know what you wanted him to say. Nothing he could muster would fix this situation. His actions were irreversible and Alina was still in his chambers, the room where so many of your fondest memories took place.

'I wish to transfer to a camp. Permenantly.' You had been mulling over the decision for days now. You had put in a request with Ivan a week ago but never got an answer.

'I need you here teaching the students' So Ivan did send it on. Was this another one of his ways of ignoring you?

'Tough. I don't want to be here.' You faced your choices with logic. Your anger would never go away, the hurt of your first love betraying you soaked deep into your bones. Aleksander was immortal, he would never leave this Palace. You had no other option. He sighed loudly.

'Y/N let's keep our personal and work li-' You went for another slap, he deserved it, but this time he caught your hand mid-air, pushing you away gently. You walked backward, disgust turning in your stomach at the response your body had to his touch. He was an amplifier and the surety he brought you would always be there regardless of your feeling for him. You hated it.

'Good for you Aleksander. You got the girl, the power.... at least let me have something' Your voice cracked slightly. You wouldn't cry in front of him.

'I'll have Ivan sort it out'

With that, you left the hallway, completely forgetting about the task at hand, happy to finally have a day where he didn't cross your path.

Aleksander stood there watching your back as you walked away from him. You would never know the pain and anguish he felt every time somebody mentioned you, or when he thought of you. He loved you deeply, more than anything in this world, so he had to let you go. He would hate himself if anything happened to you in his fight for Ravka and Grisha, so he had to push you away.

He was selfish for ignoring you but also keeping you around. He knew it hurt you to see him around Alina, he knew all of it. He truly did. But he was too greedy. His own actions were confusing him. Push her away, make her hate you but keep her safe, keep her with you. It was impossible, either one or the other.

As you rounded the corner, he memorized you, all of you. It would be his last memory of you.

'Good for you Y/N, leave me and be safe'

My masterlist 🖤

Taglist ( tell me if you want to be added!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld @0-artemis @exo-1204 @staradorned @bookfrog242 @simp-for-ben-barners @keepdaydreamingbb @acciorudolphx @pansysgirlfriend @pansysgirlfriend

[justpevensies]

Second Fiddle

Blurb: Edmund is not settling for second best any longer.

Warnings: mostly a slightly jealous Edmund - there’s a little bit of anger and some angst in there too but nothing too extreme.

It was when Edmund entered into Cair Paravel after going for an afternoon ride in the woods that he saw you. 

Stood in the great hall, you were laughing; oh how your smile and laugh made his heart race. However, as he looked closer he could see the reason for your laughter. You were talking to Peter.

Smiles across both of your faces, he instantly knew that Peter would be wooing you with his flattering jokes and his irresistable compliments. The young, golden haired king was working his boyish charms. 

Just looking at it made Edmund’s stomach turn and instantly he felt compelled to put an end to it.

“(Y/N)!” He called over, trying to hide his inner feelings. Instantly you turned around and ran to him, beaming “Ed!” Sweeping you off your feet, he wrapped you in a welcoming embrace and for that brief moment all of his worries melted away. You were in his arms and you were loving him, there was no one else.

The two of you chatted for a little moment before you giggled. “You came back just in time” you smiled, unaware of Edmund’s previous thoughts. “Peter was just telling me some of his favourite stories”. You looked over your shoulder and grinned up to the magnificent High King. 

“I must say Edmund, she tolerates me much more than you” Peter chuckled, admiring the couple stood before him. Although Peter meant no harm by it, that sentence was the final straw.

Edmund’s throat went dry, he could feel a cold shiver sliding down his spine. As a result, he tightened his grip on your waist - rather unaware that he was doing so. Determined to divert the situation, he abruptly said: “That’s nice to know” before looking at you directly and grabbing your hand. “(Y/N) ought we not to prepare for dinner?”

Before you could even say farewell to Peter, you were whisked away.

~

As the week went on, Edmund began to get more and more paranoid. He slowly became increasingly terrified to leave you alone in case he would come back and you’d be with Peter. He hadn’t let it show very much, only in extreme circumstances would that deep part of him ever become public.

“She tolerates me much better than you”. Those words echoed in his mind, he lived in it every day. His reality was a true, living nightmare.

You had began to notice Edmund was acting a lot more protective and close than normal; holding your hand and cuddling you close to him at every oppurtunity, particularly in front of people. While he would normally show subtle affection in public, it was unusual for it to be this common. However, he hadn’t done anything too out-of-the-ordinary so you didn’t mind it too much. Besides, what’s not to love about your significant other being so generous in front of everyone?

Nothing was really said - well, nothing was too unusual - until it came to a council meeting one evening. While discussing a trade deal, a heated argument arose and it didn’t take too long before the 4 Kings and Queens were snapping at one another left, right and centre. Each were proposing different ideas on how to handle the situation but soon it came down to a final two solutions and the argument evolved into who sided with who. Who had final say? Who made the best decision?

When things got too out of hand among the siblings, it was your role within the council to step in and calm things down, everyone respected how calm you could remain in those situations and, therefore, would listen to you.

The clash of titans unfolding in front of you was between Peter and Edmund. As a royal advisor, almost everyone was looking to you for guidance and it was your job to consider all options before deciding finally where you stood on the matter.

You listened to both Kings preach their proposal to you. 

Edmund’s seemed logical but slightly radical, whereas Peter’s seemed safe but potentially less likely to work. You felt like you were stood at a split road - do you go with the reasonable idea or do you go with your heart?  Almost everyone, currently, was siding with Peter so if you supported Edmund it would certainly shift the views on the table.  There was a silence as the Pevensie brothers waited for your answer.

“(Y/N)?” Edmund looked to you, his eyes pleading and desperately seeking someone to back him up.

You felt torn and normally you would side with Ed, his ideas were always more like yours and you never doubted his wisdom, plans or knowledge. However, this time it felt better to go with the majority vote.

You looked up at Peter and then turned to Edmund with regret and sorrow in your face. You let out a sigh and Ed didn’t even need you to say anything to know what was coming next. “I’m sorry Ed, but I have to go with Peter for once”. 

Edmund’s eyes filled with disappointment and before anyone could say anything, he turned and walked out. As soon as his back turned, tears began to fall freely down his cheeks. Not even excusing yourself you raced after him calling (and eventually shouting) his name. 

He quickened pace, not looking back once, until he got to upstairs to his chambers. 

~

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” You demanded after - accidentally - slamming Edmund’s chamber door closed.

He turned to face you with a rather affronted face and he tried to find words. You looked at him, arms folded, searching for answers. Normally Edmund would tell you exactly how he was feeling if something was angering him but, right now, you couldn’t see any clues in his expression. Edmund began to raise his hands, mumbling out his thoughts before he finally spat out:

“I’m just trying!” 

Confused, and rather frustrated at his blunt reply, you immediately responded: “What?”

“I’m just trying... my best” Edmund repeated before affirming those last two words. 

Neither of you moved but Edmund’s stare was so dark and piercing. You could see his contained rage flickering inside him. Slowly your heartbeat began to calm but the tension felt very much the same.

“I heard you first time, but what do you mean?” You asked.

Edmund scoffed before turning away. “What do you care? I thought you only cared about Peter”. 

That last word - Peter’s name - hit you like a punch. That’s what this was about? Peter? 

“Pet-”

“Yes! Peter!” 

Edmund said his brother’s name as if it was profanity. His face was just completely begrudged, he certainly wasn’t hiding emotions anymore.

“I try everyday to be the perfect person, the one you would want me to be. A good king who can make decisions and rule justly; a good lover, one who can make you happy and be affectionate all of the time; I’m trying to be my best self but it’s not good enough! It’s never good enough!”

You could fear your heart beginning to shatter and as you went to speak Edmund carried on.

“I’m tired of playing second fiddle! It’s always been Peter! He gets to be High King, he can lead, he is always first for everything: firstborn, first in achievements, first for... love.” Edmund began to pour out, hesitating before his voice cracked. At that he turned away, self-conscious. His heart began to pound and while you were still stood in your original position, you could tell by his breathing and body language what was going on.

“First it was our mother, then Susan and Lucy, and now it’s you! He is everyone’s first love”. 

You didn’t know what to say - how Edmund could believe that you would leave him, let alone leave him for his brother, was beyond you. 

You stepped forward and reached out your hand, resting it on his shoulder blade and he flinched under your touch. He wasn’t expecting it and part of him didn’t believe it was your touch, it felt more like a dream in his head. At that you began to rub his back and you placed your other hand on his shoulder blade as you leaned against his tunic. 

“Did you really think I was in love with Peter?” You whispered.

You looked up at Edmund before he bowed his head down in defeat. His eyes were closed as tightly as possible as he nodded his head. You could see his heartbreak, his desperation and, at that, you wrapped your arms around his whole body, placing kisses on his back.

“Oh Ed” you whispered as tears began to fall, staining his clothes. “Oh Ed you have no idea”. Edmund straightened back up, still not looking at you and you began to speak.

“I do love Peter, you know I do... like a brother. I couldn’t love him in the way I do for you. Edmund Pevensie, you have cared, treated and respected me in a way no one else had. You were the first person here who made me laugh, long before Peter did”.

Edmund faintly smiled as he remembered that moment, several days after you arrived in Narnia. It was then that he first fell for you.

“Everything you’ve done for me has never failed to impact me because having someone love me the way you have everyday has made me feel special. I’ve always felt like you’ve put me first and so I instantly felt obliged to do the same. I have done ever since we got together. Oh Ed, you’re so worth it - you’re worth being my first every moment”. 

Edmund didn’t know what to say because no one had ever shown such priority and favour for him like that before. There was a silence before you boldly said: “Aslan believed you were worth it”. 

At that, he turned to face you. His face wasn’t full of doom or despair anymore, you could see a look of pride and joy beginning to form. You were right - Aslan had given him his life, he had redeemed him and made him the person he was today. Aslan had given him new life and reminded him that he was worth everything no matter anything that had occured before for his life was worth just as much as anyone else’s.

You looked into Edmund’s eyes before cupping his cheeks in your hands. You finished off your sentence in a low whisper: “And so do I.”

Edmund saw right there that there was no doubt about your love, you had always been his first and he could see how much love you had in return. He leaned in and kissed you as if it were the first time he’d kissed you. 

He knew from now on that you’d never let him forget his worth.

[lettheladylead]

The Golden Heir Chapter 7 - Family [Ch1] [Ch2] [Ch3] [Ch4] [Ch5] [Ch6] [Ch8]

Goldie didn’t know what to do. She thought Scrooge would’ve found a way out of this nonsense by now!

Watching Black Heron perish hadn’t been the treat she always imagined it would be. It’d been terrifying, instead, as Goldie watched the villain disappear into a bright red light. Next it could be her. It could be Twenty-Two or Della or Donald, who were kneeling next to her and looking just as helpless and scared.

But instead of finding a loophole or taking down Bradford in a surprisingly suave swoop, Scrooge was just mumbling over this paperwork and trying to buy time. Goldie knew stalling when she saw it and just hoped that meant Scrooge had some sort of back-up plan in the works.

“You need some incentive!” Bradford said angrily after sending a blast of energy towards Scrooge. “Perhaps the life of your most trusted ally?”

Goldie breathed a sigh of relief, happy to know that wasn’t anywhere near her role in Scrooge’s life. She did, however, immediately fear for Donald, and struggled a bit against her chains as did Beakley and Della.

He skulked over to Donald and picked him up like he was a toy, holding him over the vortex without hesitation.

“Donald!” Scrooge screamed as Donald cried and shook in fear.

Goldie stared at the scene before her and felt her eyes start to water. She knew, realistically, this wasn’t her fault. Bradford’s beef with Scrooge had nothing (mostly nothing?) to do with her. But she led them to Dickie. If she had to guess, they probably used Dickie to get that Papyrus. If she’d just let Black Heron kill her, they wouldn’t have been able to get it.

“What will it be, Scrooge? Adventure? Or your family?”

She looked down at Scrooge. He was going to find a way out of this, wasn’t he?

“You have til the count of five. One…”

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Goldie looked stunned. She’d never seen him give up so quickly. She’d never seen him give up at all before...except when it came to her. Surely this had to be part of his plan...he couldn’t give up adventuring. That was everything to him.

“No, don’t! Find a way out!” Donald screamed, still struggling in Bradford’s grasp. “You can beat him!”

“...it’s not worth the risk, lad,” Scrooge said softly, taking out a pen.

Goldie watched in awed silence as Scrooge signed the Papyrus. Adventure was such a vague term. If he couldn’t go on any kinds of adventure - nothing magical or mystical or worldly or secret...then she didn’t know where she stood. She could still go wherever she wanted, but it wasn’t worth it without him.

No one made a sound as Scrooge was surrounded by magical yellow light and he floated up into the air. He gasped as the Papyrus’ chains wrapped themselves around him and slowly forced him back to the ground. Goldie and the others just watched in miserable realization...the bad guy had won.

“I did it!” Bradford said happily. “The great Scrooge McDuck, now only a poor old man!”

Scrooge had never looked so defeated. Goldie felt her heart break.

“Normally I wouldn’t indulge in petty villainy, but since this is a special occasion…”

Bradford dropped Donald towards the vortex, laughing evilly as the duck tumbled towards oblivion, while Scrooge and Della screamed out in shock and pain. Goldie felt numb as she watched a duck she’d known for so long - and known as one of the kindest, genuinely well meaning people she’d ever met - head for an untimely death.

“Ow!”

“...ow?”

“Ow?”

Goldie blinked and leaned over the edge to see the vortex had disappeared and Donald had managed to get free of his chains. She wanted to revel in the joy of seeing one of her favorites of the McDuck family still alive, but as the red triplet’s voice reached her ears, Bradford was already back on his plan.

“No! No more adventures!” he screamed down at the kid - and she wondered who else was down there with him - before diving past the three ducks still chained on the ledge and drawing his sword with intention clear.

Scrooge screamed out and Goldie closed her eyes. She couldn’t save him this time. He was going to die and all she could do was sit there and listen.

Instead, she heard the clang of metal against metal.

“Get away from my grandpa!”

Goldie’s eyes widened and she struggled against her chains, shuffling her legs to move closer to the stairs so she could see what the hell was happening. Beakley and Della followed suit, clearly curious as to what was going on.

“Wait, what?!”

She looked down and saw exactly what she feared: Dickie was not just in danger, and not just with Scrooge, but she was holding a broken cane up to a giant magical sword wielded by a homicidal maniac. That was the opposite of the safe, danger-free lifestyle she’d tried to give her.

Webby and Dewey immediately flew down and kicked Bradford in the face, giving Dickie time to get away from him and rush towards Scrooge.

“You need to get out of here!” Dickie shouted, tugging on his arm.

Scrooge just struggled against the magical chains that disappeared and reappeared over and over again. “I can’t!”

As Louie ran around to grab the contract off the ground, Bradford gave chase and Dickie stayed with Scrooge to keep trying to get him to move. She watched helplessly as the kids ran for their lives and Gyro, Gandra, and Ludwig got blasted by a painful-looking blast of energy.

As Bradford transformed, Goldie, Della, and Beakley managed to wrangle their way out of their chains and the two McDuck Manor residents immediately rushed towards the villain, ready to fight for their lives. Goldie, on the other hand, tossed her chains to the side and rushed towards Dickie, who was visibly shaking in fear while still trying to stay strong for Scrooge.

“Lass, you need to get out of here,” Scrooge said to her sternly.

Dickie shook her head and sobbed. “But I just...I just learned about you now, I can’t lose you already!”

Scrooge looked both confused and sad at the strangely familiar teenager crying over him and wished he could reach out and comfort her somehow. As he opened his beak to say something, he was cut off by a voice he hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Dickie!” Goldie shouted, suddenly grabbing the girl by her wrist. “You need to get away from here! Come on!”

The teen didn’t fight as Goldie pulled her away, running in the opposite direction of Bradford’s fighting. Goldie glanced back at Scrooge with a sad, guilty expression, and Scrooge stared back incredulously. “Goldie?!”

As they ran away from the fight, Bradford flew over Scrooge and the kids and started powering up the sword for one final, deadly attack. Dickie pulled her arm out of Goldie’s grasp and stood her ground. “We can’t run away!”

“Yes, we can, they’ll be fine!” Goldie shouted, trying to grab her granddaughter’s arm again. “They’re the McDucks! They can take care of themselves!”

“But...I’m a McDuck, too!” Dickie said angrily, taking a step back.

Goldie stared at her sadly, then looked behind her to see Donald protecting Scrooge with a piece of the vortex chamber that fell apart. She looked back at Dickie and gave her a small smile. “...yeah, you are. And no kid of Scrooge’s is gonna run away from a fight, huh?”

Dickie smiled and reached out a hand, which Goldie grabbed with only a smidge of hesitation. They ran towards the rest of the family and joined them in holding up the one thing protecting Scrooge from death.

Goldie didn’t think about how it felt to be working alongside the family she’d known and avoided for so many years. She didn’t want to think about how long she’d kept Dickie from this group of people who would do absolutely anything for the people they considered family. How Goldie had never been a part of that before, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a part of it now.

Louie and Huey ran up to join them and huddled over the contract.

“The only way to break the Papyrus’ spell...is to find a contradiction on the Papyrus!”

“This contract’s air-tight! Scrooge only gets his family if he gives up adventure!”

The four kids who’d spent the last few years together echoed a simultaneous DING! before Huey took the lead again.

“Bradford! Your contract is flawed!”

The buzzard stopped in his attack. “What? Impossible!”

The shield went down and Goldie backed away, feeling the confidence radiating from Scrooge’s kids. They’d won and he was going to be alright...and she didn’t need to be there any longer.

“I worked on that contract for thirty years! Went over it with the finest tooth combs!”

Goldie took another look at Dickie’s back before turning to make her usual silent escape.

“According to this, Scrooge can be with his family as long as he doesn’t adventure!”

Completely by accident, she lifted her head and made eye contact with Scrooge, who was cycling between hopeful and desperate and tired and confused. She couldn’t look away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest like it never had before.

“But family is the greatest adventure of all!” Huey shouted.

“That’s...the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. There’s no way that-”

Goldie turned back towards the rest of the family and Bradford, her feet refusing to move, and witnessed the Papyrus float into the air and disintegrate into nothing.

Bradford screeched in agony and reached out for the pieces of the contract, dropping the sword and sending one final blast towards the family. Goldie didn’t even have time to react as she realized the blast was headed right towards Dickie and Webbigail.

Scrooge, on the other hand, finally broke free of his magical chains and rushed towards the girls, tackling them both to the ground just as the blast singed the top of his hat.

Goldie breathed a sigh of relief as Scrooge and the girls nodded at each other before getting up to enjoy Bradford’s angry screams.

“I will not lose to Scrooge!”

“You didn’t lose to me,” Scrooge said with a confident smirk. “You lost to my family!”

“All of them.”

Goldie turned around to see a variety of people all walking up to stand behind Scrooge both physically and emotionally. She looked at him and felt an unfamiliar sense of pride mixed with her usual complicated feelings of love and adoration. He looked good in that moment. Strong and sincere. She knew she’d softened up quite a bit after spending time with Sharpie, but seeing Scrooge and his family standing tall together was making her heart do backflips.

Dickie walked over to Goldie and grabbed her hand, smiling softly. “Thanks for staying, Granny.”

Goldie rolled her eyes and scoffed, ignoring the conversation between Bradford and some familiar faces in Scrooge’s life and choosing to focus on how nice it felt to be with people she loved. Maybe she could stand to do it more often.

They both looked up to see Scrooge talking to Webby, who proceeded to hug him tight and then point directly at the two blondes. He looked back down at the girl he’d known for so long - his clone, apparently, which was giving him all sorts of confusing feelings - and then back up at the girl he’d never met before.

Goldie felt an urge to get away before this confrontation that she never wanted to have, but Dickie held tightly onto her hand and wouldn’t let go. Scrooge walked over to them and smiled.

“...grandpa?”

Dickie smiled awkwardly and let go of Goldie’s hand to wrap her arms around herself. “...yeah, um...my name’s Dickie. It’s nice to meet you!”

He looked over at Goldie who was avoiding his eyes, but when she felt his hand wrap around two of her fingers and tug her a bit closer to him, she couldn’t keep herself from him. Too much had happened for her to just walk away...she had to make it right.

“...surprise?” she said with a small smile.

Scrooge breathed out a short laugh and pulled both of them into a big hug. Dickie hugged back without hesitation, but Goldie’s face turned red and she stuffed her face into his shoulder to avoid looking at anyone else. She was fine with PDA but only when she was the one initiating it. The loved feeling he was giving her was overwhelming.

She looked up to see Louie and Webby and Della and Donald giving her similarly smirky smiles and Goldie sighed before finally wrapping her free arm around Scrooge’s back and holding him close. She loved him so, so much and was so happy he was safe. But there was no way she’d say something that sappy, so maybe a hug would be enough.

He finally pulled away from them and smiled happily, one of his hands still intertwined with Goldie’s. “Come back to the manor. Both of you,” Scrooge said.

Goldie looked down at their hands and then up at Dickie, who was clapping her hands in excitement. Dickie cheered, “I’ve always wanted to see the inside of that place! It looks awesome!”

The older woman sighed, but she couldn’t pretend to be annoyed. “...alright. Sure.”

Scrooge smiled brightly and leaned forward, capturing Goldie’s beak in a sudden kiss that it made her cheeks light up in embarrassment. He pulled away as fast as he started, but gave her a look that made her think going back to the manor would be the best decision of her life.

He let go of Goldie’s hand and looked back at the rest of his family. “We do need to talk, Goldie Girl. But...it’s been a long day.”

“You have no idea how long of a day it’s been,” Goldie mumbled, thinking back to her weeks of imprisonment.

“So we’ll talk tomorrow,” he said softly. “And...Dickie?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

[kpopchangedme]

Bang Chan | Royal Affair [M]

Your fiancé had always been audacious but you never thought he'd dare sneak into your royal quarters after nightfall...

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You (ft. a very wise Park Jinyoung)

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: NSFW | SMUT | Romance | Princess | First Time | **Sexually explicit** - [Drabble 2k]

Prompt: “If you keep looking me like that I won’t be able to handle myself” [for @marklee-johnnyseo​​]

Stray Kids | M.list

You barely had time to register your advisor's toupet before ducking behind a stone bench. Muffling your giggles with your palm, you looked back at Chan who wasn’t doing any better. His eyes had creased, glimmering with amusement, and his cheeks were reddened from your little run. Your heart swelled at the lovely sight. Still beaming, he reached, brushing a strand away from your face. His fingers lingered there, trailing your ear until they were against your nape. The moment stretched into infinity before he claimed them back once your silent laughter died down. Your advisor’s calls echoed, still looking for you in the maze of the French Gardens. He was getting more urgent by the minute but you didn’t mind.

There was not much time left for you two anyway.

Chan leaned in and you removed your hand, tilting your head to receive his furtive kiss. Softly, his lips ghosted over yours, the touch barely a graze before it was gone. Keeping your eyes shut, you savoured the moment as your fiancé’s breath climbed on your cheek until it was in the crook of your neck. His other hand slid on the grass, finding yours to intertwine fingers. 

“Write to me,” he demanded in a whisper. A shiver travelled your spine.

“Every day,” you gladly promised, “I’ll expect you back at the palace soon nonetheless.”

Chan chuckled softly, nose tickling your ear. “I’ll come before the first snowfall.”

“Winter is so far away,” you whined right back.

“You’ll pray for a cold Autumn, I'm sure.”

“There you go, teasing me again...” 

“I will neither rest nor eat before every single enemy of the throne is defeated...” He was only half-joking. “The sooner the rebellion is quashed, the sooner I’ll be called back.” 

“Chan, don’t be foolis–”

“Y/n…” He was more serious when he interrupted your scolding and sat, staring at you intently. “Tonight–”

“Princess!” Chan jerked backwards at Jinyoung’s interruption, startled to have been discovered so soon and you jumped up, panting. “Lord Bang!”

“Sir Park!” The young Lord exclaimed with similar disparagement making you snort.

“The Queen has called you to her chambers,” the advisor quipped back, highly unimpressed, and your stomach sank at the news. “While I believe you – Lord Bang – were expected by the House half an hour ago.” Tugging at your dress that had been goofed by your short escape and run through the gardens, you missed Chan’s magistral eye roll. “The Duke doesn’t like to be kept waiting, my Lord,” Walking the fine line between impoliteness and indisputable truth, Jinyoung smiled haughtily. If you hadn’t just been caught fooling around with your fiancé, perhaps you’d have more ground to call out the royal advisor on his attitude problem, but he was an expert at that game. Jinyoung always won when it came to reason.

“Who would dare make my uncle wait to order me around?” Sarcastic, Chan excused himself before hurrying to the House of Lords, not without one last heavy look your way. He'd probably come to the same conclusion as you; fighting your advisor with words was not worth the wasted effort. 

Later, Chan's wink assured. Sure, your coy smile replied.

You would see him soon enough.

Before the first snowfall, he had promised.

___

The night had come, you were now sitting in front of your tinted glass, trying to loosen the knot in your stomach as well as the ones in your hair. Your discussion with the Queen and Jinyoung had made you wary, painting the Duke in a new much grimmer light. You couldn't shake the dread of their suspicions.

They'd said you were getting old enough so they didn't see any point in shielding you from the matters of the throne anymore. As they’d voiced their concerns over the power-crazed leader of the House of Lords only one thing had been on your mind.

Jinyoung's usually wise judgement was unforgiving, he was certain the Duke was weaponizing the rebellion to ensure instability throughout your future kingdom. There were only a few months left before your wedding, before your older sister's planned abdication. The people loved you but you were still young, having the support of the House was requisite for your coronation to go seamlessly. 

Something only an alliance with one of the most powerful families could ensure. 

Your trust in Chan was unwavering and so was your advisor’s, remarkably so. But said loyalty, as it turned out, was the main cause of your worries tonight.

If Chan married you as intended, his uncle's ambitions would be laid to rest... But if your soon-to-be High King was to never return from his latest military assignment...

Something cold stirred in the pit of your stomach.

If Jinyoung was right, and to your knowledge, he was rarely ever not, this could all be a plot by the horrid Duke to have you marry him instead.

Chan was leaving for the frontlines at dawn tomorrow and now you couldn't help thinking back to his wink, that kiss in the gardens, wondering if this would be your last farewell.

A muffled sound right outside your window pulled you out of your anguish. 

You held your breath, listening keenly for a few seconds. Another thud, louder and unmistakenly closer this time. Standing in fear, you glanced back at your door. Should you hail the guards? The last time you had been frightened, it’d turned out to be a simple rodent in your parapet. Against disturbing them, you grabbed your letter opener and tiptoed to the large window by yourself. Just as you were leaning over, a formless shadow hoisted itself up making you yelped in terror. Startled, the dark silhouette raised its head and your hand around the paper cutter loosened.

"C-Chan!”

“I thought I saw an early snowflake f...” Seeing your poor state, your fearless fiancé shut up and lost the dumb smile, still crouched on your stone window frame. “By God, were you about to gut me?”

“Princess?”

There was a knock on your door and the fortune weapon slipped your fingers, falling on your carpet. You might be promised to one another, but sneaking into the royal quarters was still a crime punishable by beheading. Without thinking, you shoved Chan behind the embroidered folding screen in the corner of your room. Thankfully just in time, since half a second later your guard busted in, sword drawn.

“My apologies...” Jackson hastily faced back the door when he caught a glimpse of your indecent attire and put his weapon away. “I thought I heard you scream, your Royal Highness.”

“Y-Yes...” you admitted, heart in a frenzy. “I, uh, thought I saw… A squirrel at the window!”

“Oh,” you cringed at the smile in his voice, “Want me to get rid of it? Where–”

“NO!” Jackson froze again when you yelled, about to step closer.

From his fortune hiding spot, Chan didn't seem worried about his head at all. He had noticed something far more interesting. Blushing furiously, you kicked his shin when he reached for your lacy bodice, discarded over the folded screen. He hissed through his teeth at the hit, making the royal guard glance over his shoulder once again, curious. 

“Very well then Princess,” lingering suspicion in his eyes, Jackson conceded half-heartedly, “I’ll keep post.” Relieved, you thanked him and he excused himself. As soon as your door safely shut again, you faced the troublemaker, astounded.

Nevermind the Duke's scheming, Chan would end up executed before your wedding and coronation all on his own.

“What are you doing?” He pulled you behind the screen with him, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Wondering…” He pressed a tentative peck on your cheek, undoubtedly heated by his antics. “Is this the haven that sees you undress daily?” Chan’s fingers grabbed a silk ribbon, hooked into your abandoned bodice, and you groaned, highly embarrassed. “I feel like I am having the most vivid dream, love.”

“You shouldn’t have come, you need to leave. If we get caught...” Your skin betrayed you, shivering as he pressed a second kiss to your jawline, at the very beginning of your neck. 

“Mmm… Don't want to.” He brought his mouth back to your left ear, breath tickling it. “Are you gonna scream for your guard, Princess?” 

“Chan…” You sighed in defeat when he cupped your face, running a thumb on your cheek.

This was nothing like your usual escapades in the gardens or dark, empty alcoves. You were both well aware of it. With only your nightgown on, you could feel the warmth of his body and you were sure that if he looked down, he’d see through the sheer fabric.

“I’m leaving in a few hours,” he lamented, and you weren't sure if he meant your bedroom or for his mission. Since you didn’t protest, he kissed your mouth, soft but firmer than earlier that afternoon. There was no one to interrupt this time, and his mouth opened yours, tentatively tasting your tongue. Throwing decency out the window, you pressed closer, and Chan had to step back and lean against the wall to remain up. 

“You are mad.” You accused in a whisper, not minding at all. 

“Smitten,” he replied, forehead against yours to stare into your eyes. His arms slid on the fine fabric, stopping where your lower back curved in.

“This is insane,” your own hands travelled on his neck, “we’ll get caught and you’ll get punished.”

“I would’ve died from not seeing you alone before I left.” His lips pressed yours again. “Execution will be far more pleasing knowing I had you unattended.”

“Don’t tease,” you groaned seriously, tilting your head upwards but he only smiled against your mouth.

“I am not, my love… You are killing me.” His tongue grazed your lower lip stealing you an unfamiliar mewl. Suddenly, Chan pushed you to safety, away from him. He seemed almost frightened by the lewd sound, face coloured, lips glistening, breathless. 

It got even worse when he finally looked down at your nightgown, your chest was naked, brushing against the fabric. Even in the candlelight, he could distinguish your shaded nipples, very little was left to his imagination. His gaze darkened as his chin dropped, the faint lighting stretching eerie shadows on his features.

“Do you always sleep in this?” Your modesty screamed to cover yourself, but something about the way he hushed those words, almost like an accusation, kept you from doing so. Your chin bobbed and Chan exhaled heavily, running his fingers through your strands. He hadn’t seen your hair loose since you both were kids. Back then you could spend every day together without any adult thinking much of it. “When are our nuptials again?”

“Chan…” You protested faintly at his humour, but he didn't seem to hear the wariness in your voice. His imminent absence and the dangers ahead weighed you down, but he was still high on the thrill of his illicit stunt.

“If you keep looking at me like that…” He heaved, gaze heavy with more unsaid improper things. This was not the look of a boy, but one of a grown man. “I want you so much I’m contemplating treason right now.”

“Oh, just now contemplating treason?” Tilting your head, you raised a skeptical brow. It was your turn to get caught up in the game “You climbed here knowing very well there would be no chaperone, Chan.”

“I mustn’t have thought that far ahead.” He so obviously lied that you quietly laughed, covering your whole face with your hands. “Y/n…” Chan exhaled, as though reading your mind. “Don't worry, I won’t do anything irrevocable. I’m not that foolish, that's not what I am here for.” Misreading.

“What are you even implying?” Faking offence, you backed away, letting him get the full view of your negligee. “Do I look like a lady of the evening to you, Lord Bang?” It took Chan everything to not follow you, drooling. Oddly bashful, he looked away, unable to see you standing near your large canopy bed like that. It’d be way too easy to lay you right here and then. His ears were scarlet at the simple thought.

“I merely wanted to see you before leaving. I would never suggest anything along those lines, your Royal Highness...” His voice was so ushered this time that you almost misheard. You glanced at the door, knowing full well no one would come back until your morning routine.

“I am aware, Chan.” Playful, you waved him, but he didn’t budge, feet glued to the carpet. “You are not a gentleman to climb into a lady’s room at night. You would never!” 

His mouth quivered before he snorted; “I am a nobleman.”

“Besides...” You extended a hand for him to come closer again, the picture of Authority. “I’m saving myself for my husband.”

At that, Chan couldn’t resist, his perfect pout broke into a wide smile. “Lucky bastard,” he mused before finally obeying. Your hands slid up his vest as soon as he got close enough.

“Watch your tongue,” you chastised with a grin, “you’re talking about my future king.”

“Apologies, Princess...” He hummed, bending to claim your lips once more. Breathing him in, you let your fingers run through his dark curls as his tongue tasted yours. You felt lightweight, about to break at any of his touches now. When you began leaning back, pulling him down with you, Chan tugged your wrists off him, startled.

His stupefaction was priceless.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Lay with me.” You requested, dead serious. His mouth fell open in consternation. Chan looked at the door, then at you, then at the window. 

“You are the one who's gone mad.” He accused, roles reversed. He had only climbed here for a kiss and a farewell, not your ruin.

“Yes,” you admitted, not the least shameful. “My fiancé is leaving for the frontlines and I am mad he is going without questioning his orders.” And I don’t know if I'll ever see you again.

“I am expected to be the frolicsome one, y/n.”

“Love made me crazy.” When you tugged at him again, he didn’t protest any further, falling above you with a sigh. If Chan had sensed your despair he didn't let it show. Your mattress protested loudly at the unusual additional weight. Both of you became stone, waiting with bated breath to be discovered. Thankfully, no guard burst in to save your honour.

Chan watched in a daze as you went and undo the buttons of his vest. It took longer since your fingers were made shaky by nerves. In the end, he sat back and helped, shrugging the garment to the floor. When he laid on top of you, he was in nothing but his own thin shirt. You both stared at the other in marvel. You were used to furtive stolen touches, the heat of his fingers intertwined with yours... This new warmth was outstanding, having him against you so close to your heart felt fantastic, almost skin on skin.

Chan was the first one to get a hold of himself, pressing closer, he kissed you once more. This time, his kiss was feverish and morphed into many. While your hands kept toying with his curls and exploring his large shoulders, Chan showed more restraint, settling for your face and loose hair. Even with just that, you were affected, a mess of pants and laments. None of you seemed to care to stop.

When you felt how hard he was in his pants, you were unsurprised. You had heard of that through the grapevines, eavesdrop on conversations. You had even witnessed two-person being intimate once as a child. Secretly observed one of your guards and a maid fool around. You'd thought about that day more and more often recently. Imagined yourself bent over that chair, Chan buried under your skirt. You'd wonder what kind of sounds he’d made.

“Hey,” Chan shifted his weight to stand on his elbows, frowning, “are you comfortable?” You shook your head, hands sliding clumsily to the buttons of his pants.

“More...” Your order was almost inaudible but his eyebrows raised in awe.

Chan shifted again, raising above just enough to allow you to undo the first button on his crotch. It was involuntary though because he immediately sat back. You followed, kneeling on the bed to kiss his neck as you kept working on your new task. 

“Y/n,” he called, voice shaky, “are you serious?” You only hummed in response, tongue tracing his collarbone. You felt him shudder when you finally managed to access his pants. Your hand wrapped around his manhood but you were unsure what to do from then on. Chan’s mouth opened on nothing, goosebumps visible thanks to the loose collar of his shirt. His tip was leaking on your wrist. Gently, you rubbed his thin skin, making him twitch into your palm in response. You paused again, frightened he was hurt.  

“S-Sorry…” Biting your lips, you were about to pull away when Chan's hand swiftly wrapped around yours. Head low, he gulped, guiding your palm over his hard sex. You watched your intertwined fingers move as one in the glow of the candles, gaze wide. For someone who was reticent to go on, he seemed oddly powerless now.

“What should I do?” The young Lord asked breathlessly, cupping your cheek to pull you into an umpteenth embrace. “I'm at wits’ end, love.”

“We don't know when you'll be back.” If.

“Yet we are not wedded.”

You would be in a matter of days if it weren't from this stupid rebellion. Your families had originally planned for a summer ceremony. Jinyoung had even pointed that out today as part of his suspicions, though if he found out you were twisting his logic to consummate your marriage in advance... Your advisor would probably strangle you with his bare hands himself.

"Does it matter that much?” Chan stared at your question, eyes shimmering in the shadow of his brow bone. “What is one more promise in front of the Queen and House gonna change? I am already yours.”

“Y/n…” He made your name sound dangerous. Exhaling in defeat, Chan slid his hand up your thighs, a gesture that left your skin humming deliciously. “I never belonged to anyone else.”

His hands didn't stop there, they kept climbing and soon they reached where your legs and hips met. Hiking smoothly your body and raising your nightgown, Chan let them roam you until you were exposed and in an instant, he was over you. Done with shilly-shallying and obviously giving in to his most primal urges. You were all too eager to welcome him, buried by his large chest in your mattress like all those fantasies. You didn’t mind the slight awkwardness of his prentice's ways or his now sloppier kisses. You took it all, shaking yourself from a strange fuse of fear and elation.

He was the one who finally made his clothes fully vanish, keeping you busy and distracted with his mouth. Then he was after your nightgown, delicately rolling it up until you were fully bare under him; skin to skin. Chan's breath was hitched, weakened when he pulled away to observe your reaction, a curious look on his face. 

“I love you,” he confessed and you'd have rolled your eyes if he hadn't said it ever so slightly more seriously than all those other times prior.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, so loud it felt like the guards outside might hear it. You cupped his face, thumb running on his cheekbones and on his earlobes while your fingers danced on his nape. Chan shuts his eyes at the caress, shoulders loosening. You wanted to remember him like that forever, swollen, crazy hair, honey skin, feel his weight over yours and his warmth everywhere. He was yours.  

Insanely enough, when his eyes opened again to meet yours, you knew he meant more. “Forever,” your fiancé insisted, lips hooking into his familiar smirk. 

The following kisses were diligent and purposeful, making you both almost forget your predicament. Almost, because your crotch was throbbing, burning and demanding like never before. If you could only guess, he was not doing much better. Chan's sex was pressed against you, long and stiff, slowly smearing wetness on your lower stomach. Mechanically, his hips rolled forward with each kiss, rubbing you both torturously. You were in shambles, sweating and feverish under him. You needed more of him so that’s exactly what you begged for, in a raspy whisper you didn't recognize of yourself. 

Eager to oblige, Chan wandered down, letting his length fall between your legs. His cock brushed over your sex and though you wanted him, your thighs jerked, only being kept apart by his own. He didn't seem to mind, pressing consoling kisses along your jaw and neck as he slowly ghosted over you again.

Chan hitched your legs higher, the tip of him stretching your entrance. It wasn't as absolute as you’d imagined when he made his way inside you. There was no divine uproar, no intense strain, nothing broken or ruined. Ultimately, it wouldn't have mattered, nothing mattered like his ardent breath on your neck and the feel of him as he rocked into you, just a little. Chan moved slowly, soft throbs as though he couldn't bear to pull all the way out.

You wanted him to keep going, could not have borne it either after being this united. He withdrew and pushed into you again, each time a little deeper until finally, he paused. Chan raised above, out of focus, leaning his forehead against yours. There were no words, so he didn't even try. Under your palms, his shoulders were shaky, unstable, and you held on tighter. His hips were pressed into yours, your bodies banded together in a crowning figure.

When Chan moved again it was almost unplanned, a primitive impulse to keep going, feel you, own you. Deadened sounds that could have come from either of you broke the silence of the room, as reserved and furtive as a secret. He pushed into you repeatedly, breathing hollowing with each thrust. His hips became more insistent, hitting yours. Your legs opened of their own accord allowing him deeper, closer. A sense of urgency you had never felt before overpowered you. You tugged him down to claim his mouth, his breath came in pants, hot in your mouth. Your body had started to rock in rhythm as he grinded into you. Chan's own desperation rendered more evident by the way he moved.

His hand slid down on your thigh, pulling you tighter against him, caging himself. You obliged following his lead, both learning together. His head fell back in the crook of your neck, too heavy to be held. 

“I love you,” Chan growled in your ear, so unrecognizable it sent shivers across your skin. 

You clung to his neck, carried by the need to possess him. “I love you,” your words were hoarse, weak compared to his but his hold still tightened impossibly around you. 

He drove into you harder, greedily. Your fingers threaded together, holding on tight as he pressed you to the bed. Overwhelmed by both the need to escape this building throb and wanting to get more of him at the same time, you arched up. Chan's rhythm was stuttering, coming apart as he lost grip on reality. You tilted your hips, spasming around him, unable to keep going and his body shuddered into yours. 

Chan held you tight as he came, roughly crushing you into the mattress. You would've protested at the weight, but nothing had ever felt more right than having him inside you like that. He rolled next to you soon after, length falling out.

Silence shrouded your room as both your breathing lulled, solemn witness to the gravity of your conduct. Trembling, Chan pulled your nightgown down to cover your modesty, burning hand lingering on your thigh. You were still squished, held strongly against him and he showed no desire to depart.

“My Lord,” you murmured into his chest, making it shake in response.

“Yes. I am afraid you are stuck with me now, Princess.”

“Oh, what a shame.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled, hugging even tighter. 

“So, you have no choice but to come back now.”

If he hadn’t noticed your burden earlier, your comment certainly raised alarm.

“Y/n,” Chan exhaled, prudent. He gazed down at you, peering through his lashes. “Why would you even say that?” He had meant to say it lightly, but something in his tone hinted he wasn’t so honest. Which he realized right away; “I will be back.”

“Mmm...” You held your breath nervously, “Because you promised.”

He brought your hand to his mouth, “Promise.” He kissed it lightly before frowning, “Only if you behave with Sir Park while I'm away.”

“Jinyoung,” you repeated in disbelief at his seemingly random request, “I never thought I'd see the day...”

Chan laughed hollowly, a little easier. “He's not all bad.”

“You know, he said something similar about you earlier… Though I am certain his opinion would wave in light of recent affairs.”

“He did not.” You heard the smile in his voice, muffled by your hair.

“No,” he laughed once more, mouth now pressed to your forehead, “but I assure you I am very well behaved whenever you are not involved, Lord Bang. Everyone knows I am the moral one.”

“Are you, Princess?” Chan rolled over, raising on his elbow to eye you suspiciously. He had found his new natural position between your legs and your heartbeat quickened. “You have stolen my virtue. The bed isn’t even cold yet.”

“No reasonable soul would believe that.”

You tugged him down for a deep kiss, swallowing his laughter; “What a regent and ruthless thing to say, you are going to be good at this ruling thing.” Chan grinded forward with the kiss and you arched reflectively. He hummed in appreciation, “my Queen...”

“My King,” you found yourself echoing nauseatingly.

His chest vibrated against yours in a strangled sound, "I should be on my way." 

His impossibly large grin widened when he witnessed your dissatisfied scowl. Chan gathered his clothes and got dressed under your cold scrutiny. Too fast, his bare legs disappeared into his trousers. His vest was next, covering his thin shirt. You pouted, still a wreck on your mattress in your sheer attire. Your room seemed awfully freezing now that you had gotten a taste of what it would be like to share a bed with your husband.

Chan seemed to notice your shiver when you sat up and he cautiously neared the bed. His index raised your chin to force your gazes to meet.

“I do mean it,” he said with a grave voice you rarely knew him, “listen to your advisor and the Queen. You must be particularly careful until I return.”

“Chan,” you hushed, the name barely coming out, “you are the one who needs to be, the Duke–”

Your warning got stiffled by his lips and he delivered, almost making you lose your mind all over. When Chan straightened again, there was a darker glint to his eyes. Barely there before he blinked it to oblivion, but it was enough for you to know your cautioning would've been vain.

He wasn't a child anymore and he certainly was not a pawn to his uncle.

“Do not write anything too scandalous in those letters you promised, love.” Back to his usual poise, Chan was walking back to his exit. “I am positive Sir Park is intercepting our correspondence.”

This managed to make you grin at least, loosening the knot in your stomach. "Of course."

“That must be why the man loathes me,”

“That is just him being wise.”

Chan chuckled lowly, glancing at your bedroom door as he balanced his feet outside your window. “Before the first snowfall, love.” He winked as you shook your head in disbelief, “Thank you for the farewell favour, I am looking forward to our nuptials, Princess.”

And at that, he was gone into the night, your heart and virtue with him.

The separation didn't loom over you like the proverbial sword of Damocles anymore and it wasn't long before you fell asleep that night.

Because you knew this would not be the last you'd see of your playful lover...

Stray Kids | M.list

[viva-la-rebel]

Goodbye

Hey everyone- this is my official goodbye for tumblr. This site has made such a huge impact on my views and life. I applaud tumblr for letting me explore not only myself but the (mostly) wonderful people on it. It was thru this site I realized I was bi. I made tumblr friends and got to explore my writing. Some of my favorite shows I started because of stuff I saw here.

However, as much as this site holds a place in my heart- I’ve outgrown it. I came on to the site at 15 on the day of Mishapocolyse (yeah that was my first impression). I’m in my 20s now and have a house and a dog and this just doesn’t have a place in my life anymore.

And, I have to say it, tumblr has a at times been a toxic place. I remember in my first months of tumblr, literally not knowing anything, I accidentally reposted art without credit. I was flooded with hate comments, telling me what a shitty person I was. I deleted it and reached out to the original creator and apologized. While the creator was nice enough, it did show me the first ugly side of tumblr.

A few years later I did a cute little thing where if you reblogged a post I made, I would give you a good message or something. Most messages I got were so wholesome, but there were others telling me how irresponsible and bad of me it was to do this because I would never get to everybody. I was trying to do a nice thing and it still wasn’t enough and was turn into something bad. (And I did get to everyone so fuck you).

I also made a supernatural video (ah yes my first hard core fandom RIP) and tagged it with some characters it didn’t focus on. The amount of hate I got was horrible. I had strangers telling me to literally kill myself over a shitty fan-made video I made at 17.

While the majority of tumblr is a great place to explore, too many of its users don’t want to have adult conversations, y’all want an echo chamber. If someone don’t agree or makes a different point (IN A RESPECTABLE WAY MIND YOU)- they are toxic and told to fuck off. I promise you- no matter what fandom or community you are in, it has toxic people. They only want to be told they are right and do not want to think but do as they are told. Do not be this person, that is not the way the world works. Even if you and some else agree on 99.9% of things, there will always be something you don’t. Be adults and have conversations.*

*this is not me saying any phobic or racists people get a pass on their views- y’all are the worst kind of trash. This is more about views on regular things

While this site has made me happy, it’s also taken a toll on my mental health (something people who post here preach about yet rarely hold themselves accountable for causing mental stress). I was so worried about making fucking strangers mad that I would have anxiety for days. Some of you are so busy calling out other people that you fail to look inwards and see who you are and what toxic traits you have. Ive people literally run off this site and told they are shit because they didn’t update fan fiction regularly! Fan fiction! A free fucking sometime a book-worths of story for you- for free! And they are told they are shit because they have lives outside and they don’t update at the exact time they promised.

I’ve seen this site grow wholesome communities. I’ve seen friendships made on this site. I’ve seen so many amazing pieces of art and beautiful writing. I’ve been lucky enough to talk to some really great people. But I’ve seen this site literally cause real world harm. I have seen this site turn people hateful, I have seen this site make people fearful of making one mistake. I’ve seen people such down, I’ve seen people afraid to speak up.

On a last note: just because you are liberal, and think everyone deserves rights, pro-choice, all that stuff (which I totally agree with) it does not mean you are a good person. You can be a bad person with liberal views. You need to be a good person to those around you first. Evolve and learn.

I know this post won’t mean much in the grand cesspool that is this site but to those who it reaches- this site is not the end all be all. Your true friends, who listen to what you have to say- they matter. Your chosen family and friends- they matter. So if you see someone getting hate, speak up because if someone did that for me- I might leave this site with a better taste in my mouth.

✌🏻bye yall