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2kyo7 · 3 months ago

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♱ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘 ♱ | LUNE

pairing ; adrian tepes , trevor belmont , sypha belnades x female reader

ཐི ➥ summary ; As the world begins to pay the toll of Dracula's rage, four unlikely heroes must band together and defeat him--no matter the price.

warnings ; swearing, blood consumption, biblical references (like one), mind control stuff

word count ; 3.9k

notes ; i’ll be starting a taglist here but i’m unsure about how long it’ll be kept open, so if u want to be added just reply to this post 😋😋!! i’d like to note that my wattpad always has an extra chapter posted b4 tumblr, so please check it out!!!💕💕

FOR WHAT FELT LIKE HOURS, a thick quietness overcame the corridor-but this was soon after replaced with fast sounds of movement as Trevor extended the whip on his side while Sypha created hot flames in her palms. The fire served as a small light source alongside the glow of Alucard's eyes, and a pair of unknown purple hues in the near distance.

"How insolent, you come into my home and threaten...me with toys and child's play?" The feminine voice laughed, her words booming throughout the castle in waves. In the darkness three more pairs of dark glowing eyes emerged, "speaker! Belmont! Stand down." Alucard tried his absolute best to keep the situation under control, but was only met with retaliation. They watched aimlessly while the trio of eyes flown across the room in circles around them, hysterical laughter following each of the moving figures. Each chanting their own retorts, successfully unnerving both Sypha and her equally edged accomplice Trevor.

"Shameless, entering our abode to taunt us with incantations and artillery..."

"Look at how their faces cage magnificent red! Imagine the taste."

"Expel of them swiftly, the filthy things."

Each voice spoke their truths with little to no hesitance, all wearing differentiating voices and identities. The insults continued unwavering, even as Alucard attempted to speak over them, but once more his efforts were wasted. "ENOUGH." That is, until the undeniable presence spoke above all noise made about, causing the feminine voices to become silenced as they no longer lofted about the room teasingly—instead standing beside one another near a grand window which now only served for decoration as no light shown through its glaring transparency.

"Now...step forth." Within a moment's time, Trevor along with Sypha obey the spoken orders in perfect sync. Similar to a solemn soldier and his commander. They weren't themselves. Mind clouded with an endless fog, and no matter how far they ran or how hard they fought-the thickness prevailed, neither of them were in control. "Much better, wouldn't you agree girls?" Mingled snickers could be heard from behind the imposing figure.

Suddenly a single pair of candles lit inside the room,

"every word you speak, any move you make; are no longer yours alone. Instead they will belong to me for however long I shall please." The light now provided a reveal for their perpetrators face, a woman appearing to be around her early 40's stood over them, looking down from her raised pedestal. Her most striking features were of course, her encapsulating amethyst-tinted eyes, the woman was...breathtaking for a vampire.

"...and soon I'll know your own mind better than you ever will." After her speech, quietness overcame the room once more, of course there had been the shallow grunts sounding from Sypha and Trevor, but those too would be silenced in the coming minutes-once their minds grew tired and the enchantment took full affect.

Finally, Alucard would step up. His mind curiously unaffected from a true blood's power, "I apologize on behalf of my companions...it seems they should've been better educated on certain matters." He lowered his head before giving a curt bow. "It's been too long, Jacquelin." Various gasp fill the room, the loudest coming from 'Jacqueline' herself.

"Do my eyes deceive me? No, I'm never wrong!" She steps over the black railing, promptly gliding down to gather a better look at the boy...no...man in front of her. Placing her hand to his icy cheeks, Alucard neither denies nor accepts the touch. "My it is you sweet Adrian, time seems to have wavered in your fortune."

Alucard hummed in response to her praise, a smile playing along his face, though he himself felt lukewarm. "As much as I appreciate the compliments, I think I'd be more appreciative if those two would be sincerely sparred." Jacquelin huffed, crossing her arms, she walks circles around the frozen duo, observing them. "Interesting. A hunter and a speaker, what are you planning?"

"Why ask when you already know?" There's slight edge to his tone, not enough to be considered hostile, but present all the same. Jacquelin smiled jeeringly, lines forming around her mouth, "their insight isn't near as concise in comparison to yours." She neared Sypha, fiddling with the arm of her clothing. Eyes beginning to glow dangerously bright. "I wanted to hear it directly from you, all that knowledge. Locked away and hidden. Share it with me, won't you?"

"Enough with the spectacle darling, you'll scare our guest." A fourth and final voice entered the room, this one pronounced and deep, echos bouncing off the walls until reaching Adrian and Jacquelin. "Oh but it was only a bit of fun." She began to hone her full attention onto her husband, floating up towards him almost magnetically, the man captured his wife within a gentle embrace, a smile too playing on his face upon seeing hers. The man was tall and fibrous, a well groomed salt and pepper beard adorning his face. He'd also be dressed lavishly in dark clothing, similar to his wife and children. In fact, his children mostly favored him aside from their most distinguished feature. "All in good taste, I assure you Louviers."

Adequately, Jacquelin releases her control with a simple and dismissive wave. Immediately the two returned to their defensive stance, "what the hell just happened?" Trevor questions, confused and wary as ever. Alucard twisted his head to look back at them, "calm yourselves, a solution has just been reached."

"Surely you know by now that this would be a fight you stood no chance of winning." Jacquelin giggled from behind her hand. "Mother, is the fun over already?" Emerging from behind was a heavily pregnant woman, sporting the same purple eyes as she Jacqueline. "Unfortunately your father cut it short. Disheartening isn't it, Lyevre?"

Before anything else could be said, the two other sisters revealed themselves from their shadowing positions. "Perfect everyone's here! Langrené, Lyevre, and (Name). Come greet our guest." The man bequeathed his daughters forward, calling each of their name's in order of birth. "My dear, I have an even more wonderful idea." Jacquelin interject, grin broad as day. "What better way to become reacquainted than dinner, Adrian has much to discuss with us but I am simply famished."

Jacquelin didn't have to utter another sentence, she felt the back of her hand be pleasantly kissed by soft; familiar lips. "Say not another word my love." With a snap of his fingers servants seemed to appear from thin air to aid their master's request. "Please show our guest to their rooms-assure they are in close quarters to one another." Louviers begins to lead himself and his wife elsewhere into the castle, eyes forever trained on Jacquelin. "And prepare a rather humane meal tonight, will you? In customary accommodations to our visitors."

Upon his parting words, workers scampered around them, immediately going to work without a minute to lose. A handful of them ushered the trio deeper into the castle, both Trevor and Sypha looked to Alucard with worry and doubt (he'd lost count of the reoccurring action), but wordlessly, they trailed along.

Alucard could feel a singular pair of eyes following his every move; down to the slightest shift in breaths, to the numbered amount of times his eyelids had fluttered themselves shut. He knew the gaze all too well-but the familiarity did nothing to stop him from turning to face its truth. THERE YOU STOOD head held high, eyes low with distain, betrayal, anger. The same look you'd given him all those years ago as he walked through your castle doors for the final time. If looks could kill, Alucard would've already been sent to the underworld three thousand times over.

Some things truly never change.

The reluctant heroes would be gathered for dinner that same night, instead of sending an undead servant to fetch for them-the second Dauvillier sister stood ecstatically in front of Alucard's door, her knocks persisted until the door was opened. "Adrian! Whatever took you so long to answer?" It had only been a few seconds...he wanted desperately to counter. "It's rude to keep a lady waiting, where have your manners gone?" From behind her Alucard could see an already exhausted Trevor, but a particularly joyful Sypha.

"My apologies, Lyevre...may I?" Alucard held out an expecting arm for her to take, one which she gladly accepted, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Of course!"

Together they gracefully traveled arm in arm towards the dining room, the gesture done out of pure politeness. Sypha and Trevor trailed a few paces behind, observing the decor of the castle halls. "Who is the lucky gentleman?" Alucard gestures to the golden ring adoring Lyevre's finger, a beautiful amethyst gem embedded on its surface. She began giggling cheerfully, like a young peasant girl in love.

Lyevre was the kindest out of her sisters, her upbeat personality complimented by a soft tone of voice made it easy for anyone--vampire or not--to fall for her charms. Long dark hair flowed behind her, nearly exceeding the length of the silky lilac robes she wore. Material optimizing her comfort. Especially in her current state.

A free, dainty hand reaching to message her round stomach. "You'll meet him at supper, he's quite the catch I must say." Alucard's eyes widened, deciding to humor her statement with blandishments. "He must be quite the sire indeed, to earn your affections." Once more Lyevre laughed softly, "quit your flattery Adrian, if my husband catches ear-well, he can get very jealous."

Remaining in easy conversation, they'd finally reached the dining area. The room itself was grand enough to hold unending banquets and balls. The decor (similar to the rest of the castle) was decorated rather darkly, accented with their family's signature color; purple.

"EXCELLENT, you've finally arrived! Hurry take a seat so we may begin dinning." As her father spoke, Lyevre left Alucard's side to seat herself beside her younger sister, you. Only sparing their group a revolted glance before returning yourself to scratching at your empty porcelain plate. Sypha rushed to sit across from Lyevre, seemingly continuing their earlier conversation, while Trevor cautiously moves to seat himself in front of Langrené—the eldest sister—who couldn't even bother to regard him whatsoever, instead choosing to further debate her father on foreign matters.

Langrené was undoubtedly the most cutthroat of your sisters, the strongest too. Like all firstborns, she had been burdened with the duty of upholding the family's name, assuring its success without fail. She was beautiful as she was menacing; having no need for charms Langrené much rather preferred utilizing threats and favors to gain advantages. Her hair sat styled in a half-updo, barely reaching below her shoulder blades. Dressed in thick but modest purple fabrics that left much to be imagined, only a single shade away from black.

Lastly, it came Alucard's turn to find himself a place amongst the group. There remained only two arrangements; the unoccupied chair beside Lyevre, (unmistakably left vacant for someone that wasn't him) and the empty seat crossways from yourself. Taking notice of this you scoff, a corner of your lip upturned high in the air. "Un-bel-ievable!" You say aloud, earning the attention of Lyevre. "Don't be rude fleur. Your playmate has come to see you, isn't that lovely?" She gestures for Alucard to continue his movements, "it's true, we haven't seen one another in ages...I've missed you quite dearly."

You flinch at his closing words, heart racing ever so slightly off pace. The feeling didn't last long. Crossing your arms over the expanse of your chest, you turn to face elsewhere in an effort to avoid his hallowing gaze. "And whose fault may that be?" Alucard leaned back into the furniture with a small sigh, he hadn't expected to be welcomed back by you warmly. Especially considering the circumstance of his last parting, but it's as if over the course of years your stubbornness had impossibly amplified.

Other qualities had amplified also since your last interaction, so long ago. Out of all your sisters you were unabashedly the most pampered, expected of the youngest. You hadn't grown up with the same hardships and pressures as your eldest sister; nor were you taught the importance of discipline and kindness like your older. You were allowed to flourish without the bidding of rules or the weight of power. And flourish in ways you might.

At the sight of tears or the howl of your voice, anything you desired was yours alone to own. Mountains of luxurious gowns, the sweetest of virgin blood, toys carved from that of diamonds and gold. You'd known to work for nothing, so you'd grown to work for none. Everything existed in your delight, and things that did not were simply forgotten. What reason would you have to learn the art of swordsmanship? Or needlessly drown yourself in studies for hours on end? To even master the works of your inherited abilities seemed so utterly pointless, what purpose could it ever serve?

Adorning your form was a dress suitable for only those bearing the royalist of blood, the material clouded down your shoulders in puffy sleeves leaving them bare for all to witness. Your cleavage wore minimal coverage as well; the top half of your chest displayed in a fashionable manner. Intricate designs cascaded along the expensive fabric accompanied by a number of matching laces and bows, effectively tying the outfit elegantly together. Hair styled similarly to Lyevre's, but never quite as long-wavering just above your hips.

Yes, you'd grown with assurance. Perhaps a little too much.

Before he could think to carry his dialogue much farther, an abrupt noise cuts through all others. Jacquelin stood at the far-most end of the table, similar to her husband, she held high in the air a empty wine glass awaiting to be filled by soothing, rich liquid; in her opposing palm rested a golden fork-made from only the purest materials. "Now that almost everyone has been gathered," she cuts quick eyes to Lyevre, "let us dine in each other's company and enjoy this nostalgic rekindling."

Instances after servants appeared to fill empty glasses and carry in their arms trays of an unending feast, stacked with various amounts of food; red meats, fish, poultry, wheat, vegetables and fruits. This was the grandest of grand dining. More food had been dished out in a single night than either Sypha or Trevor would see years to follow.

At first they looked upon the display with fearful eyes. Justifiably so. Anyone should be once having their minds bent and nearly broken beyond comprehension-but such the humanity of hunger would entice even the most durable of beings. Sypha couldn't help but to recall a faithful tale told by the ages of Eve and the forbidden fruit. While Trevor remembered the teachings of his youth, bribery the killer of fools.

Still, she stuffed her cheeks full like a rodent. Thanking every silent servant that wordlessly cleared her plates or offered her new feedings. And he, had drunken himself into a spell of his own. One glass after another downing his hearty throat.

The Dauvilliers—your family watched with mixed expressions of amusement, disgust, and wonder. Looking upon the two humans gouging themselves as if the latest spectacle. The scene akin to how fae tempt the human mind with simple trickeries for entertainment until their untimely deaths. Alucard felt a feeling of shame wash over him like a cold water, knowing that he himself was at least partially susceptible to such humane behavior. But in the same breath he too felt anger, knowing this was the extent of humanly worth to man-feeders like you. He swallowed his accursed thoughts, they would do him no good here.

Louviers' laugh was effusive, wiping his lips of any excess food that might've escaped with a pearly white cloth. "I'd forgotten how delightful watching humans feast can be, what a splendid idea darling." He looked to his wife who'd just finished her 5th glass of blood wine and showed little sign of stopping. "Yes, it's truly a show indeed. How many ages has it been since we last partook in the practice?"

"Far too long I must say." Louviers glances to Trevor's empty bottle, commanding someone to "bring his friend another drink" as he'd articulated. Simultaneously his middle daughter humored Sypha in a similar fashion, admiring how she'd been essentially inhaling her meal.

"Are all humans this desperate for food...poor things." Alucard knew the question was lined with false worry-faux concern-but Sypha was none the wiser. He noticed the way Lyevre's eyes started to faintly glow, whispering sugar-coated nothings into the shell of her ear. You happily indulged in your sister's game, holding a slice of ripe, delectable pomegranate to her lips, coaxing her to unwilling taking another bite. "You are not yet full are you, Speaker? Go on eat just a little more." Lyevre's control left Sypha's mind after uttering those few but haunting syllables; now turned thoughts at the forefront of her mind.

Alucard could only hold his tongue. At the end of the day, it was your family's help he required, and if becoming party tricks for only a few hours would spare humanity from certain doom-so be it.

"Enough of this," Langrené finally took it upon herself to speak above your family's joyous cries after silently watching for nearly the entirety of dinner. There was not even a passing glance of amusement to be seen; instead evident irritation and displeasure. She rose from her place at the table, the palm of her cold hand slamming against the table and with it, plates of food and utensils begin to levitate from the table's surface. Her voice carried oh-so effortlessly across the room, causing a number of servants to stop in their tracks, fearing they've made a grave mistake.

"You know I tend to quickly tire of games, Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, so tell me of your being here-tell me now or leave with that of which you came."

Alucard knew his next few words could change the course of history itself, but he wondered not of what "that" Langrené spoke of meant, but he feared it all the same; perhaps his limbs? Or maybe she referred to the two humans he'd been traveling with for days on end; who were, as of now, incapable of forming a coherent sentence. At this moment (the wrong one), Alucard finds his humanity to be more dawning than ever. The weighted gazes of your family, combined with the various object spinning around overhead; Alucard attempts to straighten his posture, but even then he struggles to find the words.

"It is unfortunate that I am unable to access the mind of other's as can my mother and sister—if I could—this entire ordeal would have concluded the moment you graced the doorstep of this family. For dear Adrian, it does not take enchanted forces to know this is no mere reunion of old ties."Alucard remembers how he practiced throughout voyage here, he'd practice in perfect paragraphs how'd he would sway your family. His words buttered by reasoning, smooth with certainty. Curious is the mind.

"Mon petit amour, calm yourself. There exist not a soul who doesn't know our dear Adrian has been through a great deal." Jacquelin's fingers danced in the air, and soon everything returned to its rightful place among the table, including Langrené. Smiling she said, "Go ahead Adrian, you have the floor."

Alucard nodded in thanks, clearing his hoarse throat once his thoughts finally settled. "As you may have caught wind, no more than a year ago now-my mother was killed-falsely accused of witchcraft." There were no gasp of surprise, nor the fall of drinks, instead scarce pity. "My word, how truly regrettable it is to hear. That woman was remarkable for her kind." Louviers subtly shook his head, gaze casted downward onto his finished plate of food. Jacquelin hummed, taking another sip, "I'd heard rumors, but talk can be ever-so cheap."

"The news was rather unfathomable to me also, I mean the Count Dracula allowing his bride to murdered? Impossible!" Lyevre held a dramatic hand over her heart, breath appearing to leave her body as she spoke. "They say she was burned alive at the stake, is it true? I must declare, such punishments become more common with each passing day." The eldest sister grinned, Alucard could only ponder what seemed so tickling about his mother's death. He held his tongue once more.

"Hmph, such is the nature of humans. How does it feel to be controlled by fear, Adrian? Or do you prefer Alucard, now?" Your eyes-your words too, were filled to the brim with such contempt, such repulse, Alucard wondered who exactly he looked to in that moment. True bloods weren't notorious for their compassion towards humans, but you were a different entity entirely. "The same way you are controlled by hunger. (Name)." He was quick to shoot back, but careful in his tone. Your venomous glare sharpened, if not amidst a discussion, you'd pounce across the table and show him what. "I am...grateful...for your words, Dauvilliers. So you must know that following my mother's departure has been my father's wrath. Not only upon those responsible, but all of humanity."

"Goodness, how could we not? Just before your arrival we'd been deliberating our next plan of action, right Louviers..." she didn't give a chance to respond. "...but then I caught smell of a prophecy, that just might be our solution." Jacquelin's smile never faltered, instead growing as she rested her chin on the inside of her palm. "Feel absolute to correct me if I'm mistaken." She looked to Alucard, who sat as composed as one could. "Of course not Jacquelin, you never are."

Like a tale as old as old as the times; Alucard spoke of the story-fated heroes destined to rescue humanity's people. The soldier, the hunter, the scholar, and the true blood. Billions of lives rested in their balance, but only if they can acquire the final piece.

"Ah...allow me to clarify. You mean to recruit one of us, in hopes that we may kill your father? Alucard I must applaud you for your bravery, disguised as stupidity." Langrené stood from the table, beginning to walk away. "You are dismissed, I'm afraid you'll have to find some other willing vampire to do your biddings. Begone."

"My daughter, do not act out with such haste. Who are we to deny any prophecy if it means our safety?" Louviers' words halted his child in her tracks, "don't be ludicrous father, I won't allow anyone of this family to die for the sake of mortals. Mother, please reason with him!"

Jacquelin sat buried beneath contemplation. Though her oldest daughter has been arranged to inherit the family's title, the decision is still her's alone to make. "Your father is right, this is not our choice to make as forces beyond have already pronounced their judgment." Her expression shifted into that of rage, had she finally grown mad in her age, Langrené could not help but think. "Then who shall it be mother? Perhaps father who does not even carry the eyes, or I, the next to inherit this legacy? Maybe you are considering Lyevre who—may I remind you—is with child? No, I'm completely deluded. It is yourself, you wish to be a savior. Don't make me laugh."

She took a long pause before answering, the room falling silent. Aside from Langrené's heavy breathing, and Trevor's incessant mumbles. "Not at all Langrené, for it is your youngest sister; (Name), who shall fulfill this pending prophecy."

———

taglist: open

@foulbreadpeanut , @uhnanix

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violent138 · 1 year ago

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"I'm telling you," Tim said. "We don't take our secret identities seriously enough."

Dick inhaled deeply, clicking through evidence the Zodiac Master had left behind. "I'm technically on vacation in France." He reminded Tim. "A double of me is currently using the Wayne funds left and right so I can convince people that Dick Grayson and Nightwing aren't the same person."

"I was thinking more if we ever got de-masked."

Dick made a go on gesture.

Tim's eyes glinted brightly. "The CIA gives out poison pills--"

"You think if you're dead they'll somehow be unable to figure put who you are?" Dick asked sharply, not bothering to make the obvious emotional argument.

"No, but it would prevent the sharing of secrets. What my real suggestion is that we line our domino masks with small capsules of acid, so if anyone tries to forcibly take them off--"

"Or we get punched too hard, or accidentally get stranded without any way to safely melt the glue, we get Two Faced?" Dick scoffed and Tim shrugged, clearly considering that a minor loss.

"No dice, Timmy, and don't you dare even bring it up with B." Dick held up a finger. "He might even start looking into it, you know how impressed he was with Jason's helmet bomb."

"Dick--"

"Shut up and let me enjoy my vacation."

#mini something #I don't know what counts as a mini fic #tim drake #batbros #batman #dc comics #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batfamily #jason todd #batfam #eldest daughter dick grayson

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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months ago

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Antiusurpation and the road to disenshittification

THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

Nineties kids had a good reason to be excited about the internet's promise of disintermediation: the gatekeepers who controlled our access to culture, politics, and opportunity were crooked as hell, and besides, they sucked.

For a second there, we really did get a lot of disintermediation, which created a big, weird, diverse pluralistic space for all kinds of voices, ideas, identities, hobbies, businesses and movements. Lots of these were either deeply objectionable or really stupid, or both, but there was also so much cool stuff on the old, good internet.

Then, after about ten seconds of sheer joy, we got all-new gatekeepers, who were at least as bad, and even more powerful, than the old ones. The net became Tom Eastman's "Five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four." Culture, politics, finance, news, and especially power have been gathered into the hands of unaccountable, greedy, and often cruel intermediaries.

Oh, also, we had an election.

This isn't an election post. I have many thoughts about the election, but they're still these big, unformed blobs of anger, fear and sorrow. Experience teaches me that the only way to get past this is to just let all that bad stuff sit for a while and offgas its most noxious compounds, so that I can handle it safely and figure out what to do with it.

While I wait that out, I'm just getting the job done. Chop wood, carry water. I've got a book to write, Enshittification, for Farar, Straus, Giroux's MCD Books, and it's very nearly done:

https://twitter.com/search?q=from%3Adoctorow+%23dailywords&src=typed_query&f=live

Compartmentalizing my anxieties and plowing that energy into productive work isn't necessarily the healthiest coping strategy, but it's not the worst, either. It's how I wrote nine books during the covid lockdowns.

And sometimes, when you're not staring directly at something, you get past the tunnel vision that makes it impossible to see its edges, fracture lines, and weak points.

So I'm working on the book. It's a book about platforms, because enshittification is a phenomenon that is most visible and toxic on platforms. Platforms are intermediaries, who connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, workers and employers, politicians and voters, activists and crowds, as well as families, communities, and would-be romantic partners.

There's a reason we keep reinventing these intermediaries: they're useful. Like, it's technically possible for a writer to also be their own editor, printer, distributor, promoter and sales-force:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

But without middlemen, those are the only writers we'll get. The set of all writers who have something to say that I want to read is much larger than the set of all writers who are capable of running their own publishing operation.

The problem isn't middlemen: the problem is powerful middlemen. When an intermediary gets powerful enough to usurp the relationship between the parties on either side of the transaction, everything turns to shit:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

A dating service that faces pressure from competition, regulation, interoperability and a committed workforce will try as hard as it can to help you find Your Person. A dating service that buys up all its competitors, cows its workforce, captures its regulators and harnesses IP law to block interoperators will redesign its service so that you keep paying forever, and never find love:

https://www.npr.org/sections/money/2024/02/13/1228749143/the-dating-app-paradox-why-dating-apps-may-be-worse-than-ever

Multiply this a millionfold, in every sector of our complex, high-tech world where we necessarily rely on skilled intermediaries to handle technical aspects of our lives that we can't – or shouldn't – manage ourselves. That world is beholden to predators who screw us and screw us and screw us, jacking up our rents:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/yes-there-are-antitrust-voters-in

Cranking up the price of food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

And everything else:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

(Maybe this is a post about the election after all?)

The difference between a helpmeet and a parasite is power. If we want to enjoy the benefits of intermediaries without the risks, we need policies that keep middlemen weak. That's the opposite of the system we have now.

Take interoperability and IP law. Interoperability (basically, plugging new things into existing things) is a really powerful check against powerful middlemen. If you rely on an ad-exchange to fund your newsgathering and they start ripping you off, then an interoperable system that lets you use a different exchange will not only end the rip off – it'll make it less likely to happen in the first place because the ad-tech platform will be afraid of losing your business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Interoperability means that when a printer company gouges you on ink, you can buy cheap third party ink cartridges and escape their grasp forever:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Interoperability means that when Amazon rips off audiobook authors to the tune of $100m, those authors can pull their books from Amazon and sell them elsewhere and know that their listeners can move their libraries over to a different app:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/07/audible-exclusive/#audiblegate

But interoperability has been in retreat for 40 years, as IP law has expanded to criminalize otherwise normal activities, so that middlemen can use IP rights to protect themselves from their end-users and business customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

That's what I mean when I say that "IP" is "any law that lets a business reach beyond its own walls and control the actions of its customers, competitors and critics."

For example, there's a pernicious law 1998 US law that I write about all the time, Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, the "anticircumvention law." This is a law that felonizes tampering with copyright locks, even if you are the creator of the undelying work.

So Amazon – the owner of the monopoly audiobook platform Audible – puts a mandatory copyright lock around every audiobook they sell. I, as an author who writes, finances and narrates the audiobook, can't provide you, my customer, with a tool to remove that lock. If I do so, I face criminal sanctions: a five year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine for a first offense:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

In other words: if I let you take my own copyrighted work out of Amazon's app, I commit a felony, with penalties that are far stiffer than the penalties you would face if you were to simply pirate that audiobook. The penalties for you shoplifting the audiobook on CD at a truck-stop are lower than the penalties the author and publisher of the book would face if they simply gave you a tool to de-Amazon the file. Indeed, even if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CDs, you'd probably be looking at a shorter sentence.

This is a law that is purpose-built to encourage intermediaries to usurp the relationship between buyers and sellers, creators and audiences. It's a charter for parasitism and predation.

But as bad as that is, there's another aspect of DMCA 1201 that's even worse: the exemptions process.

You might have read recently about the Copyright Office "freeing the McFlurry" by granting a DMCA 1201 exemption for companies that want to reverse-engineer the error-codes from McDonald's finicky, unreliable frozen custard machines:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard

Under DMCA 1201, the Copyright Office hears petitions for these exemptions every three years. If they judge that anticircumvention law is interfering with some legitimate activity, the statute empowers them to grant an exemption.

When the DMCA passed in 1998 (and when the US Trade Rep pressured other world governments into passing nearly identical laws in the decades that followed), this exemptions process was billed as a "pressure valve" that would prevent abuses of anticircumvention law.

But this was a cynical trick. The way the law is structured, the Copyright Office can only grant "use" exemptions, but not "tools" exemptions. So if you are granted the right to move Audible audiobooks into a third-party app, you are personally required to figure out how to do that. You have to dump the machine code of the Audible app, decompile it, scan it for vulnerabilities, and bootstrap your own jailbreaking program to take Audible wrapper off the file.

No one is allowed to help you with this. You aren't allowed to discuss any of this publicly, or share a tool that you make with anyone else. Doing any of this is a potential felony.

In other words, DMCA 1201 gives intermediaries power over you, but bans you from asking an intermediary to help you escape another abusive middleman.

This is the exact opposite of how intermediary law should work. We should have rules that ban intermediaries from exercising undue power over the parties they serve, and we should have rules empowering intermediaries to erode the advantage of powerful intermediaries.

The fact that the Copyright Office grants you an exemption to anticircumvention law means nothing unless you can delegate that right to an intermediary who can exercise it on your behalf.

A world without publishing intermediaries is one in which the only writers who thrive are the ones capable of being publishers, too, and that's a tiny fraction of all the writers with something to say.

A world without interoperability intermediaries is one in which the only platform users who thrive are also skilled reverse-engineering ninja hackers – and that's an infinitesimal fraction of the platform users who would benefit from interoperabilty.

Let this be your north star in evaluating platform regulation proposals. Platform regulation should weaken intermediaries' powers over their users, and strengthen their power over other middlemen.

Put in this light, it's easy to see why the ill-informed calls to abolish Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (which makes platform users, not platforms, responsible for most unlawful speech) are so misguided:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

If we require platforms to surveil all user speech and block anything that might violate any law, we give the largest, most powerful platforms a permanent advantage over smaller, better platforms, run by co-ops, hobbyists, nonprofits local governments, and startups. The big platforms have the capital to rig up massive, automated surveillance and censorship systems, and the only alternatives that can spring up have to be just as big and powerful as the Big Tech platforms we're so desperate to escape:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

This is especially grave given the current political current, where fascist politicians are threatening platforms with brutal punishments for failing to censor disfavored political views.

Anyone who tells you that "it's only censorship when the government does it" is badly confused. It's only a First Amendment violation when the government does it, sure – but censorship has always relied on intermediaries. From the Inquisition to the Comics Code, government censors were only able to do their jobs because powerful middlemen, fearing state punishments, blocked anything that might cross the line, censoring far beyond the material actually prohibited by the law:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#hugos

We live in a world of powerful, corrupt middlemen. From payments to real-estate, from job-search to romance, there's a legion of parasites masquerading as helpmeets, burying their greedy mouthparts into our tender flesh:

https://www.capitalisnt.com/episodes/visas-hidden-tax-on-americans

But intermediaries aren't the problem. You shouldn't have to stand up your own payment processor, or learn the ins and outs of real-estate law, or start your own single's bar. The problem is power, not intermediation.

As we set out to build a new, good internet (with a lot less help from the US government than seemed likely as recently as last week), let's remember that lesson: the point isn't disintermediation, it's weak intermediation.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/07/usurpers-helpmeets/#disreintermediation

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en (Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

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benz12313 · 2 months ago

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🥺👉👈 ridoc who falls head over heels in love with violets twin who is autistic and he's an absolute sweetheart to her, and helps her when she needs something and protects her.

Also their dragons are mated and aotrom is very over protective of her.

I had so much fun writing this. I hope this was written well. As a parent of an autistic child (diagnosed) and as someone who suspects herself and her other child are AuDHD but in the process of getting diagnosed, I really tried to represent this well. I also think in the Fourth Wing universe, at least in Basgaith, many mental differences are shunned or looked down upon, so I went that angle with this fic. Please give me feedback on how I did with this request. I also have some ideas for a part two so let me know if you'd like that! Thank you for your request though! I had a lot of fun working on it. :)

Own Worst Enemy - Ridoc x Sorrengail!Reader

Warnings: violence, death, dragon mate possessive behaviour

Word Count: 4,274

I sat quietly next to Violet, as she interacted with her- our friends. As much as they assured me that I was just as included as her, I’d never really felt that way. I wasn’t like her. I didn’t know what to say, what to do? Always feeling a little bit lost when the group was together, like I was one step behind, too busy analyzing everyone to add my own input into conversations. Sometimes it felt like they only put up with me because I was Violet’s twin, and not nearly as breakable as her.

I was good with schoolwork and okay with challenges, at least good enough to hold my own and take minimal injuries; and my joints are stronger than hers, not popping and breaking under pressure. Perks of being a fraternal twin I guess. Our DNA isn’t identical. No, something else in me feels broken. Something deeper. More substantial. Something I never talked about with anyone, ever.

Violet has asked before, in my moments of weakness, when everything is too much and I can’t hide. But I always am able to reign it back in then, hide it all behind a smile and recite lines I know will appease her worry. After all, the mask I wear protects me, especially growing up in a family where weakness isn’t tolerated. Even Dad, who saw straight through me. He expected me to reign it in too. Taught me in his own ways how to know what to say, how to make people look away, how to breathe when it was too much. Yet he still expected me to conform, to act like everything was okay. Like I wasn’t broken and weak minded.

I was a good actress at least. Everyone just thought I was quiet and reserved. And they never looked too hard at me, letting me fall into the background. I preferred it that way, it was much easier.

Everyone, except Ridoc Gamlyn, of course. He was always right there. In my space, but somehow, I never minded it. Maybe because with Ridoc, it didn’t matter what I said, he just accepted it. When I missed an unwritten social rule, he just smiled and responded, somehow getting what I was trying to say instead of harping on how I said it. He was annoying at times, always a bit loud, but he could say or do whatever he felt like with no reservations, easily breaking through my walls like no other could. Not even my own sister. I was honestly a bit jealous.

Ridoc wouldn’t let me fade either, prodding me to talk with him while the others were occupied in their own conversations. His voice usually quieter in those moments when he was trying to get me to reconnect, asking the oddest questions about whatever I was working on. It worked though, making my mind settle as I answered whatever he’d asked me, the casual back and forth grounding me, easing my anxiety over messing up.

He could see me. Really see me, like nobody ever had. It didn’t take me long to understand though, as I quickly became interested in trying to figure him out. Nobody really saw him either. Seeing what he wanted them to see. The loud, boisterous, sexually overconfident man he let everyone see wasn’t all of him. He didn’t let them see his worry over schoolwork, or over whatever current obstacle we were being thrown as new riders (currently the gauntlet) or his disappointment when a night of fun never became anything more, even if his conquest came back, it was never more than for another round. It was such a carefully crafted act that nobody thought to ask questions, nobody seeing that there was even an act to catch.

Nobody could see. But I could. And he knew I could, giving me a knowing smile in his moments of weakness, but I never knew what to say to make it better. I don’t really think he wanted any sympathy, hence the mask that mirrored my own. He interested me though, so completely different than the others. Even though that’s what he wanted, I could never truly look away. Not when he’d become my biggest source of safety in this death college.

Always pushing me on the mat, giving me pointers on how to improve. Walking with me when I needed a moment, my body feeling restless. Talk about my books, even the smutty ones, maybe especially the smutty ones. He’d grin and let me talk for hours, sitting on his bed in the men’s dormitory as we talked quietly. He’d glare at any of the other men who looked at us too long, daring them to say something. To make one move towards me. None ever did. And he always listened, asking questions that actually made me think, or that would lead me to another tangent.

Ridoc Gamlyn was an enigma I could barely understand, so I too hung around. Maybe it was the same for him. Maybe we were both just trying to figure the other out, never quite getting there. Never quite understanding. But accepting. Always accepting.

“I think, maybe you could bounce back and forth up the chimney. Your joints aren’t as weak as Violet’s so if you get enough speed and momentum…” He trailed off, as he watched me nudge my sausage across my plate. “Y/N?”

I met his warm brown eyes for a moment before my eyes quickly returned to my plate, torturing my sausage again. “I get what you’re saying. It’s worth a try.” It was presentation day, and this was my last try after all. Violet had told me her plan, but it wouldn’t work for me. If both of us pushed the rules like that, then one of us would definitely be disqualified. It was her plan, so I told her I’d already found another way. Lied through my teeth, but she’d let it go so it must’ve been convincing enough.

“C’mon, you’ll make it.” He assured, like there was no possibility I wouldn’t. “After all, my best friend isn’t a weakling.”

The twisting in my gut wasn’t unfamiliar, it happened every time he mentioned us as being friends. Why? I wasn’t quite sure, and it was one of the few things I refused to ruminate on. I refused any negative emotion when it came to Ridoc, too afraid to let anything take hold and then let the emotions push away my only solace in this place.

“Yeah.” I sighed. Then forced a smile as I met his gaze again, holding it this time. “Just want it to be over with.”

He smiled, moving some hair out of my face, the annoying strand of hair that always refused to stay in my crown of braids. “I know you do. And you’re gonna kick ass, and then in two days, we’re gonna get dragons and be certified badasses.” He sent me a big grin and I sighed, looking away to hide the smile blooming on my lips. I speared the sausage on my fork and plopped it in my mouth, finishing my breakfast.

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t get rid of me that easy.” I joked and with a quick glance from the corner of my gaze I saw his smile widen.

“Exactly Sorrengail. You’re stuck with me. Forever.” I laughed, before standing, Ridoc quickly following me. “Besides, I haven’t heard about the end of that dark romance you’ve been reading. It’s just started getting good. And I won’t have the patience to read it myself if you go and die on me.”

“Glad to see I have some use.” I snorted at him, my body relaxing the moment we’d gotten to the hall. The noise of the cafeteria fading the further we got from it. Finally, I could actually hear myself think now.

“Oh don’t be like that! You’re smarter than Violet, and that’s saying something.” He said and I rolled my eyes.

“No, I just watch more than she does. It’s easier to put things together when I don’t have to worry about holding a conversation at the same time.” I countered and he chuckled, pinching my side and making me squirm away. I still giggled against my will though. “Plus the photographic memory helps.” I snorted out another laugh when he poked me again. “Stop that!”

“Okay. Okay.” He relented, giving me a goofy grin and shoving his hands in his pockets. I knew that was the only way he’d be able to not touch me as he tried to honor my wishes. Ridoc never really could seem to keep his hands to himself when he was near me. Especially when he was nervous. “Don’t discount yourself though. You’re brilliant. Own it.”

“Shut it Gamlyn. I’ve got enough to worry about.” I sighed, taking in his expression before bumping his shoulder with my own. “Don’t need to worry about me okay? I won’t die today.”

The anxiety in his eyes faded, replaced with all consuming warmth as I was stuck in his gaze. He opened the door ahead of us, not saying a thing.

Ridoc’s POV

I held the door for her, warmth pulling at me as her gaze never faltered. I believed her, after all, it wasn’t often that she lied to me. In fact, she was usually unabashedly honest with me. A fact I was grateful for. She hid herself from the rest of our friends, her sister, but couldn’t hide from me.

Her brilliant mind fascinated me, she was amazing in her own unique ways. How the others couldn’t see it was beyond me. She was definitely the strongest, and smartest of us. I just wish they could see that, that she could see that, just once. She finally rolled her eyes, moving through the door as her cheeks went pink and my chest swelled with pride.

She was beautiful, in every way, and I'd been hopelessly pining after her since that first night when we’d been assigned to the same squad. When she’d finally met my gaze with those pretty y/e/c eyes of hers, catching me in a trance as she looked through me. Past my confident facade, straight to my core, past all the bullshit I wore like armor. But then she didn’t call me out like most would have, just cocked an eyebrow at me, and looked away. Like it was some secret that she was electing to keep for me.

I’d been practically begging for her attention since, especially after I’d figured out that she was pretending too. That she hid herself, afraid of the inevitable rejection too. But she didn’t play pranks, pretend to be stupid and refuse any feelings too painful to address. No she refused everyone, never letting anybody too close to be able to hurt her. Only letting the rest of our friends close enough to see what she deemed the useful parts of herself, but never close enough for them to really see her. But she let me. And I knew it was because she saw our similarities.

I was broken from my thoughts when we made it to the gauntlet, and fear seized my heart. As quickly as it’d taken over, it was gone because Y/N shoved my shoulder with hers again, sending me a bright smile.

“We’ve got this Ridoc.” It was simple, yet wholly convincing.

“We’ve got this.” I repeated, squeezing my hands into fists in my pockets to keep them still. To keep them from pulling her into my arms, and never letting go.

Y/N’s POV

I made it. I fucking made it! Shock seized me as Ridoc’s bellows rang in my ears, not quite hearing it even though his words echoed through me. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, spinning me around as he held me in a bone crushing grip. He set me back on the ground but didn’t let go, burying his head in my shoulder.

“You made it.” He whispered, and I nodded, tears pricking in the corner of my eyes as emotion flooded through me. Everything was suddenly too much as I hid my face in his chest. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

“I made it.” I whispered back, squeezing him from where my arms were wrapped around his neck.

We made it through presentation as well. Though several of the less savory of our squad couldn’t say the same for themselves. None of the dragons really stood out to me, a hollow feeling in my chest as I walked off the flight field. I won’t be chosen. I knew none of those dragons would choose me, deep in my soul. I didn’t say anything though, not until I was sitting criss-cross with my back leaning on his pillows and headboard as I watched him sharpening his sword, talking about needing to be ready for threshing.

“Did you-“ I paused when he quieted and glanced up at me, “Did you feel any of their approval?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“The dragons?” He asked, putting down the stone in his hand and setting the sword to the side. Damn him, he must’ve noticed my shift in mood, deciding to focus on me completely now. I nodded. He thought a moment, his face shifting into contemplation, a look I couldn’t help but find so handsome. “Not really. There was those greens that crowded your sister. But I was terrified of them. Maybe that brown one, towards the end, that was annoying the others? Rolling all around them. He was funny. But I don’t know, none of them really jumped out at me.”

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off that brown. I remember following behind him, watching him as he had softly chuckled at the dragons antics. For him to have brought it up again…maybe he was just lying to me, or himself, but he’d definitely had a connection to that dragon. My heart dropped.

He must’ve seen it too because he sighed, before crawling over and wrapping his arms around me as he pulled me into his side, and I leaned my head on his chest. “You are gonna get a dragon tomorrow. I just know it. Maybe your dragon just isn’t sure about you yet.”

“Comforting.” I snorted, voice devoid of emotion.

“Look, I know I haven’t convinced you, and you’ll be thinking some awful things about yourself now.” He paused, sighing and looking unsure of himself as he tried to find the right words to soothe me. Failing, but he’s cute, trying like that. “Just trust that I know, more than I’ve known anything that you will get a dragon tomorrow. If any of us deserves one, it’s you.”

The raw honesty in his voice made my heart race, and despite myself, his words gave me an inkling of hope. Hope that he was right. That there really was a dragon out there who could accept me, despite my shortcomings. Hope that a dragon would find me worthy.

“Thanks Ridoc.” I mumbled, and hoped that he’d hold me just a little longer as I worked to pull myself back together.

He did.

Ridoc’s POV

I wandered the woods, my mind occupied with Y/N and her show of weakness last night. She never let the facade fall that completely before, she was scared. More scared than she’d been for the gauntlet. Afraid a dragon wouldn’t want her. I frowned as I hid behind a tree as a red passed by. I knew that one wasn’t mine, but luckily it either hadn’t noticed me or decided to spare me instead.

I’d felt a tug all afternoon as I wandered the forest, coaxing me further and further inwards, where I knew that brown was waiting. I’d meant what I said last night, it’d only been once I’d left my friends that I felt the tug. But Y/N had caught what I hadn’t last night, in that way that only she does, already knowing the brown had intended on choosing me.

I finally started moving again, lost thinking about Y/N. Too lost to notice the forest shifting in front of me, until a deep male voice rang through my head, ‘Oh come on! You didn’t even notice me!”

I jumped back two feet, suddenly seeing two large golden eyes staring at me from a large brown swordtail that was hanging from a particularly large tree. A tree that still looked like it was about to buckle under the weight of him.

“S-sorry.” I stuttered out.

The brown jumped from the tree, landing on the ground and sending me staggering from the shockwaves. ‘I suppose I’ll forgive you. Only cause you’re so worried about her. Call me Aotrom, I’ll give you my full name later. You’re mine now.’ He sniffed at me as he circled me, before settling in front of me again, looking proud of himself.

“You mean Sorrengail? Y/N?” I specified, remembering Violet was out here too.

The dragon made a sound, that sounded suspiciously like a snort. ‘Who else? Your mate of course.’

My body froze as my mouth fell open in shock. “She’s not! We’re not-“ I shook my head. “She’s my friend.”

He tilted his head, looking confused. ‘Oh? I thought…’ He sounded confused too, thinking, before his face lit up again, tail wagging back and forth. ‘I see! Eve did say she thought you two hadn’t acted on it yet when I shared my memories with her. I guess she’s right!’

My mind was swimming. This-my dragon, Aotrom, was unlike any other dragon we’d learned about. That was for sure. And he thought me and Y/N were mates??? “Who’s Eve?” I finally let the words out and the dragon puffed his chest out as he straightened with obvious pride.

‘My mate of course.’

Y/N POV

I kept a hand over my mouth as an orange slinked by, sniffing the air. I willed my traitorous heart to slow, afraid that the nasty looking dragon would hear my heartbeats and try to eat me. Eventually he slinked out of view, and I let out a small breath as I continued on my way.

I still felt that hollowness. No pull anywhere as I wandered around aimlessly. I’d run into a dozen different dragons now, and felt nothing from any of them.

I silently wondered if Ridoc had found that brown swordtail. I wondered if Rhi and Violet had found theirs too. If Sawyer would finally get his own. If I would be forced to repeat the year as well, and start over next year.

I paused when I heard a rustling in the bushes, but before I could hide, one of the other cadets strode out. It was one that hung by Barlow, not in his inner circle but itching to move his way in and appease the cruel man. He was tall and fit, definitely a foot taller than me. I palmed my daggers as he stared at me, cruel grin forming as he looked me up and down.

“The quiet Sorrengail twin.” He hissed and I glared.

“Won’t earn you any points with Barlow killing me.” By sheer will my voice was strong.

“Oh, but it will weaken her, and Barlow will approve of that if he hasn’t killed her by the end of the day.” My heart raced at his words as I steeled myself for the fight ahead of me. He wasn’t backing down now.

He ran four steps raising his sword and was about to swing when air rushed around me, and then suddenly he was lifted off the ground, a giant scorpion tail sticking out his back and through his chest. With a flick of the tail his body flew behind me.

But I was frozen in fear. Standing in front of me was a dragon, with navy blue scales and bright green eyes narrowed on me, assessing. Waiting for what my response would be. It’s tail moved slowly now, curling around its body, which gave me some hope that this dragon didn’t plan on killing me. Yet at least.

“Thank you.” I whispered, lowering my gaze as my thoughts went wild. There weren’t supposed to be any blues out here today.

‘I came because my mate wished to take a rider, that’s all.’ Her voice was majestic, beautiful and commanding, filling my head and making my eyes snap back to hers. She was talking to me…but that meant… ‘Yes, Strategist, I agree with my mate’s assessment. You are worthy of being mine, despite your worries. He may have been selfish, having chosen his own already, but he had assured me that you would do me proud young warrior. Now, climb on, before I change my mind.’

She chuffed out a puff of air in my face and I chose not to argue and climb atop the small blue dragon. She wasn’t the smallest of the ones we’d seen during presentation, but she definitely wasn’t the largest, I noted as I climbed on top of her.

She grumbled. ‘I am only 21!’ She hissed out the words irritated with my…thoughts. Great she can read my mind. ‘I will grow with time! I’ll be bigger than Aunt Sgaeyl even! Just you watch!’

So don’t mention her size. Noted. Wait, Sgaeyl? Riorson’s dragon???

‘My name is Eventhasil, but you may refer to me as Eve.” Then she was launching into the air not a second after I had thoroughly settled into the seat, ignoring my mental question of her lineage. I gripped her tightly with my thighs, hanging on for dear life. Once she leveled out, not jostling me at all anymore, I was able to actually enjoy the wind flowing through my hair. Joy flooded me and tears welled up again. I was actually chosen.

‘That is a habit we will have to kill with prejudice. Your doubt in yourself is sickening.’ Though her words were harsh, I think that was supposed to be encouraging.

‘What about your mate?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘What’s he like? Who has he chosen?’ It would be nice to know exactly which cadet I’m now tied to for the rest of my life.

‘He approaches.’ She says simply, her voice going quiet as she speeds up, forcing me to hold tighter as a brown tried to catch up. Were they…racing? ‘Yes, and if Aotrom wins he’ll be insufferable. Hold tight.’ Determination laced her tone as she tightened her movements racing towards the flight field at top speed, easily outflying the brown as she flung her wings out at the last minute, landing quickly. I was nearly flung from my seat with the maneuver, but with luck and my muscles locking, I was able to hold on. The brown landed thirty seconds later, towering over Eve as he snapped at her face playfully. She snapped back at him, narrowly missing his neck as her tail swung behind us.

But then another dragon landed on her other side and the brown lurched forward, growling low in his throat as he eyed the other male, his swordtail curling around Eve protectively.

She, however, sat calmly amidst his display of possessiveness. Almost…bored?

‘Overpossessive male.’ She explained, irritation lacing her tone. ‘Male dragons are known to be volatile towards any potential threats in the first few years of establishing a mate bond. And Aotrom is very…determined to keep me as his.’ An obvious affection was laced in her last words. The other male backed away, submitting to Aotrom’s dominance and claim, eyes and head down as he moved out of range. Only when the male had moved a sufficient distance away and Aotrom relaxed, turning to his mate again did I see his rider. Ridoc. Holy shit! Ridoc!

Happiness bubbled within me. There was no one better to be tied to! Holy shit. And he looked unharmed, thank the gods.

‘Go speak with him.’ Eve somehow sounded…teasing? ‘He’s relieved that Aotrom had told the truth when he told him that you were safe. As if I’d ever let harm come to what’s mine.’ She snorted at the last sentence and I laughed.

‘I’m glad he’s okay too.’ I sent her way as I climbed down.

The moment my feet hit the ground they lifted again, as Ridoc’s arms wrapped around me and swung me around. “We both got dragons! We’re both riders!” His voice was full of joy as he put me on my feet again. “We made it Y/N! We made it!” His hands moved to my cheeks, and I was frozen as euphoria took over his gaze, and then in a split second, his mouth was on mine.

Moving, kissing, me. I slowly moved back holding onto the moment as my heart burst. My crush was kissing me. Tongue slipping into my mouth as he pulled me to him, pine and male and Ridoc taking over my senses completely as I lost myself in him.

This moment was perfection.

And then it was ruined, by Sawyer calling our names, obviously not able to really see us yet. Ridoc jumped back, looking panicked and my heart lurched. Did he not mean to do that? His eyes scanned mine as he backed up.

“Talk later?” He asked, and I froze. He froze too, hands hovering over my waist. “Y/N? Talk later yeah?”

I nodded, words catching in my throat as Eve growled in my mind. But she said nothing.

“Yeah.” I whispered, putting on a smile as our friend greeted us.

~ I'm taking requests as well, just submit them to my inbox and I'll get to them when I have time.

~ Want to be added to the tag list? Just comment or message me! :)

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @uneducatedraccoon @nicksolemnlyswears @binksbrewcrew

#fanfic #ridoc x reader #fourth wing #ridoc gamlyn #iron flame #onyx storm #ridoc fourth wing #ridoc and aotrom #ridoc #aotrom #ridoc gamlyn x reader #sorrengail reader

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xoxoemynn · 1 month ago

Text

I've been trying very hard not to talk about PCCP publicly, because frankly, I think there's very little new to be said and certainly not by me.

However, I have picked up on a rather gross way that some people have been discussing the situation and I'd like it to stop.

To be clear, I am not talking about POC in this fandom who are rightfully upset by how much harder PCCP's actions are going to make it to simply exist in this space. I'm not talking about his close friends who are wrestling with that utter mindfuck of discovering the person you loved didn't actually exist. I'm also not talking about people who've discovered that similarities between their works and PCCP's weren't just coincidence and were actually plagiarism. All these people have been directly impacted by PCCP's unconscionable behavior and are going to need time to process and should be afforded the space to do so.

What I am talking about are people who were not directly involved in any of this, but seem to be descending upon any new scrap of info, any new revelation, any new insight, with the same kind of morbid glee as a TMZ reporter who got a hot tip about a shocking celebrity death.

(This is getting long, so going to put the rest below a cut.)

I was part of the group that first discovered PCCP's lies. The initial discovery was entirely by chance, but then we dug deeper because, and I cannot emphasize this enough, we wanted to be wrong. We did more digging because we wanted to be wrong. And it felt gross, to be looking this closely at someone's real life identity and match it up to details they shared on tumblr/bsky. We hated it. It felt like a violation. But it was such a huge accusation to make against somebody, so we had to be 100000% certain we were right before we breathed a word to anybody else.

For more than a week we agonized about how to handle the situation in a way that would do the least amount of harm to everybody involved and to the fandom at large. There were a lot of tears and sleepless nights. There was a lot of rage that we were even in this position in the first place. And also there was the eternal mindfuck of watching PCCP continue to post about things that we now knew to be lies, while the rest of the fandom continue supporting him as normal.

My point is... none of this was fun. We didn't take any joy or pleasure in uncovering a popular figure in this fandom was a racist fraud. It wasn't some cute detective game. It was hard and it was awful and it was deeply stressful.

So to see some people talk about this like it's entertainment, or fodder for r/HobbyDrama, talk about digging up screenshots and connecting the dots or continuing to theorize... stop. It's done. We did those things because we were hoping to find proof our initial findings were wrong. They weren't. PCCP was racefaking, and it was a deliberate choice he made to mislead and manipulate the fandom for years. He has been exposed and at least somewhat confessed. We know he was a racist and a liar and a plagiarist, and he did irreparable harm to many people in this fandom. That's it. That's the story, and it's done. There are no more dots to connect. There's nothing left to uncover. And while we always knew bringing this forward would result in smug gloating from people who hate the show/the fandom and were happy to have yet another excuse to bash it, it is upsetting and unsettling to see the almost voyeuristic fun some people who do love the show seem to be having with this.

Real people have been hurt, and real people are struggling. We don't need a grand fandom exposé, we don't need to continue digging up the dreck, and we certainly don't need to put anybody in more danger of doxxing. What we need to do is support the people who've been hurt and/or traumatized by PCCP's actions, do some self-reflection on why we allowed him to become so popular in the first place despite so many people now coming out of the woodwork saying they felt "icky" about things he wrote, and move forward.

That said, I do like to focus on positive outcomes, so I'll also say how genuinely lovely it's been to see people supporting each other throughout all this. I've been enjoying the influx of @ofmdlovelyletters on my dash, sharing so much love for others in the fandom. I've been thrilled at all the old gifs and arts and meta posts being shared once more from people who seem to have organically gotten the message of "oh yeah, we're here because we love the show, let's get back to that." Personally, I've been DMing a lot more people just to chat, and it's been really nice turning some fandom acquaintances into fandom friends. And I'm excited about all the efforts of the people working on @inv-2025-pccp to make sure writers who had their works plagiarized receive proper acknowledgement. That's a great, tangible way to turn some poison into positivity, and if you're feeling like "oh I just wish there were something I could do," I'd encourage you to reach out to get involved.

I've said this multiple times in private conversations, but I think it bears repeating here: no matter how much he may have tried, PCCP did not define the OFMD fandom before, and he certainly doesn't get to now. My hope is that as devastating as this event was, we use it as an impetus to move forward and do better, to strengthen relationships and be there for the people who've been hurt the most.

#emynn.op #and after this I'm going back to talking about this as little as possible publicly #because quite simply: he is not worth it #my focus right now is working to make this fandom a safer place for POC #and supporting those who are hurt/grieving because of PCCP's actions #as far as I'm concerned anything else is simply not productive and can only do more harm than good #anyway #I love you #take care of yourselves

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freckliedan · 5 months ago

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i'm sorry but if you've only been a phannie since the reniassance you really have no right to be criticizing dan gender posters.

i don't think anyone who got here post revival understands the distinction between "fans crossing the line" vs "fans listening to what dan and phil tell us even before announcing things explicitly and celebrating that". and the way people act like they need to defend dan from people who think he could be trans makes that abundantly clear.

dan especially has been so open about how this community's support is what made it possible for him to accept himself and come out, and that wasn't support that magically appeared the second BIG dropped. it didn't exist only after we got told officially.

the community support of dan and phil's queerness was the way people noticed and celebrated and understood the way they increasingly chose to be vulnerable with us over the years, and the way we shared how they made us feel safe in our identities.

they came out a million little ways before they said the words, but dan did especially: wearing nail polish, going curly, an earring in the gay ear, liking tweets that said he was gay, making increasing gay jokes. the winter before they both came out they tweeted about the bbc calling them a couple and didn't correct it. dan TOLD us in march of 2018 that he had a video planned for june that was relevant to the month but not because of his birthday.

they do the telling us with their actions before announcing it in so many other contexts too: moving, announcing tours, etc.

if you trust in and pay attention to their consistant patterns of behavior it's hard to be surprised by dan and phil.

so why is it that this one fucking thing—dan's gender—is not allowed to be posted about in the same way as everything else? those of us who do take so much care in what we say, too, if we ever do anything other than post jokingly. both for dan's sake (nobody forgets this is a public forum) and because the transphobic backlash is constant.

dan has been saying he sometimes wishes he was a girl since manchester. talking about gender since 2009. the gender conversation has been constant as long as dan's been online and we know it's been a constant since early childhood too.

dan said after BIG dropped in 2019 that he considered coming out in 2014 but then started thinking about gender and needed more time to figure it out. and you know how that ended? he did NOT say "i came out because i figured it out". it ended with dan saying that thinking about gender culminated in realizing it's okay to come out and change your mind. that you can be a formless blob. (quote)

and then sister daniel happened, and dan has been increasingly openly talking about questioning gender ever since. and hey: dan and phil commented on the possibility of a gender video from dan during dan's bday livestream. doesn't that sound familiar.

this isn't different from when dan and phil claimed heterosexuality and then were openly not in the lead up to coming out. this pattern of behavior is the same, and the way people are posting is the same, and i've never fucking once seen a dan gender poster cross the line the way people used to.

it's just a different subject.

would the people who get pissed at dan gender posters have been doing the same thing to people who thought dnp were queer before they came out? did you not realize what an rpf community is like because you got here after the fact, or are you being transphobic hypocrites?

why is the possibility of transness something dan needs to be defended from, anyways? it's a compliment and we know dan takes it that way.

figure your shit out. i'm sick of it, especially coming from other trans people. i've had so fucking many trans mutuals bullied off this website and out of this space for openly talking about the possibility that dan might not be cis over the years, and when the same transphobic talking points come from a trans sibling's mouth? it disgusts me.

you don't have to like it or agree with it or engage with it. but can you PLEASE stop acting like you have a moral high ground and are doing something beneficial to dan that he'd thank you for? just fucking block and blacklist and move on.

and know that if dan someday turns out not to be cis, you're gonna have to live with the knowledge that you made things harder for him.

us dan gender posters? we all know we might be wrong and we've had to think about whether we're happy with our actions if that's the case. and i know damn well we'll all be celebrating dan's gender nonconformity just as much for the rest of time if dan remains cis.

we're under constant scruitiny so we've had to self reflect. but i really don't think any of you have. think about your underlying biases. consider the impact a vehement defense of cisness would have on dan if he isn't. and please, for the love of god, let that impact your actions.

#jam posts #g?#dan howell gender truthing #im fucking sick of it i'm sorry. i usually don't see the people being weird about it but a friend mentioned someone that was on their dash #and i had to block 2 people.#one of whom has been vaguing me all year with absolutely no factual basis when i have 15 years of reciepts

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chlosallow · 3 months ago

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┃only fans!reader finally shows fan!chris her "dollface"

┃after begs and pleads from chris, doll finally caves into showing her face

⋆.˚ ★— made by @chlotapcs

a/n ; GUYS. y’all are literally the best. the amount of love i’ve gotten with this pair is unbelievable. UNBELIEVABLE..!! I LOVE YALLL

"please doll.. i'll do anything." chris whines over the phone, propping his phone up on his desk as he sits on his seat.

chris and doll had just finished their daily “phone sex” and were cleaning themselves up. chris had just put on a shirt that he could take off when he was done, which he just did. doll was cleaning herself up with an old towel she had, wiping herself up, twitching every so often, still sensitive.

"i can't and you know it." doll shakes her head, leaning it back against her seat. she throws her towel away towards her hamper, shifting in her seat, making sure her face is hidden.

"why though?? it's just us." chris tries to reason with her, pouting and looking into the camera with puppy eyes.

chris knew doll was conscious about her face, not wanting anyone to figure out who she was. but that didn’t stop him from begging.

“chris.” doll murmurs, looking at chris and his fake pout.

“please. i swear i won’t do anything. i won’t show anyone. it’s our little secret.” chris explains, trying to reason with doll.

doll let’s out a sigh, rubbing her face with her hand as she leans her head back. she didn’t want to. she promised herself when she started only fans that she wouldn’t. how was she actually considering all for some random guy she started talking to.

‘maybe it won’t be that bad. i mean what could possibly happen? chris is a sweetheart. i know he won’t reveal my identity..’ doll thinks to herself, but she’s taken out of her thoughts when she hears a loud alarm coming from the direction of chris.

“oh fuck.” chris mumbles, pushing himself up and grabbing his phone, quickly walking to his closet. doll furrows her brows, tilting her head as she watches chris as he holds the phone in front of him as he walks. “i have to film with my brothers..”

“awe man..” doll whispers, slightly relieved, knowing she wouldn’t have reveal her face in the next few hours to him.

“don’t worry dollface, i’ll text you the second i’m done.” chris smiles and nods into the camera, grabbing a random hoodie and some pajama pants.

“i don’t doubt it chris.” doll mutters as she stays in his position, watching chris with her face hidden above the camera. chris walks back into his room and props his phone back on his desk. he quickly gets dressed, fixing his hair with the little time he had.

“bye dollface.”

“bye chris.”

and with chris giving his camera a kiss, “kissing doll”, the call ends.

the rest of the day, all doll could think about was chris begging her to do a face reveal. she was nervous, not even considering sending him a picture but remembering his pleads, god it was hard not to give into him.

doll was currently sitting in front of her mirror, her orange and black lingerie on, her hair in two messy buns. chris’s favorite hair style on her. she had her phone in her hand, posing on her knees as she takes different photos, changing her led light colors, making sure her face is visible in the photos.

after multiple photos, different posses for every other one, doll let’s out a breath. she goes to her photos app as she tosses on an oversized t-shirt. she walks to her bed, flopping on it as she scrolls through the different photos she took.

if she would send chris any photos, it would be some with her face most hidden but still visible. she chewed on her lip as she begins to delete the photos she would never send to anyone. finally she found her best three.

her back facing the mirror, her ass the main attraction in the photo, her face in the bottom corner, looking up at the camera with a small smile that was half hidden. her on her knees, bending over slightly so one hand is on the ground. her other hand holding her phone, half of her phone covering her face. the last one, her bending over her bed, her ass on full display as her face hides in the corner again.

photo inspirations below ↴

with a big sigh, doll’s finger hovers over chris’s messages. was she really about to send these photos to a random guy she met on onlyfans??

yeah.. yeah she was.

she clicks on chris’s message and chooses her three photos. with one last deep breath, she clicks send.

chris was sitting in the passenger seat of his brother’s van, talking to the camera and filming his video. he wasn’t paying too much attention, his mind focused on his last conversation with doll. begging her to see her face. he knew she was caving in, she could see it in her body language. but at the same time, he didn’t want to force her to do something she wasn’t comfortable with.

suddenly, he hears his phone ding. his ears perk up as he lifts his hips up, grabbing his phone from his pocket. he opens his phone, seeing the notification from.. doll?

dollface <3 3 attachments

chris immediately forgets that he is filming a youtube video with his brothers. his thumb hovers her notification, swallowing hard as he shifts in his seat. he glances at his brothers quickly before clicking the notification, subconsciously moving his phone to the side so his brothers wouldn’t see.

chris almost chokes. she was even prettier and he imagined. such a dollface. he clears his throat as he hearts each image, his thumbs moving to type her a quick message.

chris <3 holy. actual. fuck. your fucking gorgeous.

“yo? you there chris?” matt interrupts his thoughts and chris’s eyes immediately snap up, closing his phone and pushing it down on his lap.

“uh yeah m’good..” chris mumbles, shaking his head as he looks down for a hot second. fuck. he could see his pants outlining a boner he was slowly getting. he quickly takes off his hoodie, laying it on his lap and letting out a breath.

“let’s just finish this video. im getting tired.” chris says to his brothers, needing to call doll immediately.

@mattspolitank @h3arts4harry @sophand4n4 @riversandwinds @sturnl0ve @marrykisskilled

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#⋆⭒˚.⋆ chloe's blog #𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ chloe's works #𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ chlotapcs #✧₊⁺ fan!chris #✧₊⁺ onlyfans!reader #sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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genderkoolaid · 8 months ago

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I feel like you would get this, seeing this comment section kinda hurt. The OP they are responding to is a non-binary trans man who was talking about feeling uncomfortable because they still feel attraction to lesbians and have felt very excluded. He’s wary around certain lesbians because they center their ideology around hating men regardless of gender identity and has faced a lot of anti-transmasculinity and transmisogyny. While most lesbians are wonderful amazing people there’s no denying that some do hold an innate hatred for men, not saying they need to like men. I fully understand lesbians and predatory cis men but there’s definitely lesbians who would date trans men. It can be scary for a trans man to come out or start transitioning because at what point do they become too masculine or too much of a man for their friends. There were even people in the comments saying the same anti-man statements who identify as a he/him nonbinary lesbian. This topic is very hard to hear for me as a closeted genderfluid person because my best friend is a man hating lesbian and I dread the day I can actually begin transitioning and she turns her back on me like these people. Queer spaces in general can be hard to occupy as a multi gendered person because of those people as well as mlm/nblm spaces that say ‘fem aligned dni’. In general I don’t think we should police labels and everyone has their own interpretation and I think labels are just a suggestion anyway but I suppose that makes sense for a genderfluid bisexual person.

These people just straight up do not understand the gender diversity that has always existed in lesbian spaces (by which I mean spaces built & catering to queer women & those seen as women).

There have always been trans men in lesbian spaces. You aren't obligated to fuck them, but they have always been there. There are pages and pages of writing out there not only by trans male dykes, but by the lesbian cis women who love them and still identify as lesbians while in relationships with them. There are trans guys at dyke bars right now as we speak having a great time.

Its not surprising to me that there are he/him NB lesbians supporting this. There are a lot of people out there who, because they don't identify As Men, mentally distance themselves from those who do despite any similarities. It's okay for THEM to be lesbians, and it's transphobic to erase THEIR lesbianism because they are Non-Men™! but once you cross that line you become the enemy. It's very "no you gyns I'm TOTALLY different than those gross tbros i promise im not a man at all and i will never want to be one so im allowed in the club!" The same people also throw multigender people under the bus. Trying to figure out your nonbinary in this environment is hellish (I speak from experience) because people pretend like they are super accepting of nonbinary people, until you realize that if you ever think of yourself as even slightly male people will start seeing you as a predatory invader trying to Force Lesbians To Date Men! Very "complex gender for me but not for thee"

Anyways. Twitter is not a good place. Anon, I hope you find better friends. Not every queer space is this hostile to us, I promise. There are people out there who genuinely work to make our community better and I hope you find them.

#m.#examples of transandrophobia

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shaylogic · 2 years ago

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Queer Experience Watching Barbie - AFAB Masculinity

I started to go into this in tags on another post but I wanted to type this up separately and try to develop my thoughts a little more. . .

Ryan!Ken’s arc in Barbie (2023) has been buzzing in my head for days.

I got fixated on it for a couple of major reasons:

1) We rarely have seen a feminist movie take time to address men with compassion in how patriarchy harms them too.

2) As a trans masc person, I think it hits a specific part of my identity that I don’t consciously let myself think about for too long. Something about being raised in a female world with sisterhood and community. Then being isolated in adult manhood without the tools to prepare you for that. Conscientious of respecting women and being unbothered by feminimity around you, but not knowing your place in the world.

How do I put it?

I know it’s not the direct intention of the film itself, but I’ve seen other trans folks (especially transmasc), reacting similarly to the feeling we get from it.

Ken’s arc feels pretty reminicent of the struggle afab lgbt folks go through when considering masculinity in their identity (butch lesbians, afab nbs, trans men, etc.)

How to make peace with masculine aspects of yourself without losing the women in your life? (One can argue Kate McKinnon’s Weird Barbie has aspects of this as well.)

Of course, then Ken goes off on the adopting patriarchy ride, which IS the point of the movie, and may skew a bit from the transmasc read on it--though I have known a trans guy here and there who avoids being misgendered so hard that they can become somewhat sexist. To which I say: “You don’t need to have a dick to be a man, and you don’t need to BE a dick to be a man.” But I digress.

Something about Ken being comfortable in a woman’s world but not understanding why he’s being shut out from socially bonding with them (in any sense! Romantic, Familial, Platonic Friendship. . .)

The overall theme of the movie for both Barbie and Ken--in an allegory of heavy gender roles harming all--leading them each to have to figure out who they are in themselves, regardless of others. . .

Trans masc folx can relate to both Barbie and Ken’s arcs.

I don’t want to detract from Barbie’s arc being the main point of the movie.

I think the reason why we get hung up on Ryan!Ken’s character is because. . . we’ve related to the Barbie plot in other movies and shows before, thinking back to our “girlhoods” as children.

I have never seen the arc Ken has in this in any other story!!!!

There are some Man Movies that have attempted to discuss the struggle of Being a Man--but they often come off as too dismissive of feminine experiences, and are therefore as offputting to transmasc people as women.

Because of the nature of the two worlds exhibited in this movie, and Ken’s backround in his setting, personality, and purpose in relation to the Barbies, he’s a Man living with Female Socialization, in a Woman’s World; he’s a male character that inherently admires and respects women in his nature (until the real world influence distorts it).

This isn’t a perfect example of a transmasc experience either, but it’s a lot closer than most of us generally get to see! That’s why so many of us are getting caught up in this.

Please, other trans folx (transfems, too!), I really need us to have a discussion about this. What were your experiences and thoughts around this movie?

P.S. Yeah, we kinda get that nonbinary allegory from Allan (not a Ken, not a Barbie, siding with Feminism in the Gender War), but he wasn’t in significant focus of the plot the way Ryan!Ken was. If I try to read into Allan, I don’t have much to work with.

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omnium-gatherums · 1 year ago

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Finding Your Identities: Figuring Out Your Alters When Your Alters Aren't "Distinct" "People"

I have been wanting to make this post for a very long time now.

I have talked countless times on this blog about how a lot of the "how to figure out your alters" lists do not and cannot apply to me, or systems who may be like me, for a variety of reasons.

We do not have distinct senses of selves, we don't feel like our own distinct individuals, in any way whatsoever. There is no specific, unique, distinct "cue" or feeling or anything that tells me I've switched, or tells me that a specific, distinct alter is fronting who is different from any other alters. There is no specific, distinct THING that tells me "okay yeah that was very obviously and specifically and undeniably a different alter."

It's easy to deny you have alters when your alters are not distinct individuals who know they are their own unique, separate selves. It's easy to deny you have alters when it always feels like "you."

If you don't experience your alters as distinct 'entities' where you can obviously and distinctly refer to them as "that is (that specific alter) and that is not (these other alters)", it can be nearly impossible to figure out your alters at all.

This has been a horrible aspect of my denial since essentially the beginning. I mean, when everything online tells you that DID involves a distinct sense of "not me" to it, how can you know if you have it if it doesn't feel that way to you?

Now obviously I DO have that feeling of "not me"... It's just not described using those specific words. I was taking it all way too literally (thanks, autism NFKDSFDKJ).

It's more like "I don't really feel that way anymore" or "yeah I felt that way, but not anymore."

Or "I don't really relate to that anymore" or "I don't really like this as my identity anymore" or "I don't like this name anymore."

Or "this feels like someone else's life" (but more of a feeling, it's not like I just suddenly don't know anything in my life anymore. I know my girlfriend and love her still and I know I live in this house, etc.)

I'll feel like I am attending therapy because I have to, or I'll feel like I'm relaying information that I know factually, as if I was told a story of things that happened and I have to relay that information to someone else.

Or just generally a weird feeling that something is off.

And that's the thing - dissociation (for me personally) is less like "things aren't real" and "I'm not real" and more like just a vague feeling that something is OFF, and you don't know what, and you can't explain it.

I remember as a kid feeling like I'm the "only conscious being" or "feeling like I'm in an anime" or "acting out a dramatic scene in a movie." Now all three of those descriptions still fall under "feeling like things aren't real/etc." but I never interpreted it that way, because of how literally I take things, I didn't make the connection, because I never used the SPECIFIC wording of "feeling like I'm not real/feeling like the world isn't real/etc."

I straight-up told one of the first therapists I saw for a DID diagnosis that I "don't really dissociate at all" because I don't really experience the "nothing is real/I'm not real/etc."

This, too, brought me a lot of denial, because people only describe dissociation as "things don't feel real", "you don't feel real", "you feel like you're floating", "you're watching yourself", "you're watching the world through fog/glass", etc. And because I never really used those specific words to explain my feelings and experiences, I figured I wasn't really experiencing any dissociation, or at least just very rarely and mildly so.

That's a key thing here - the WORD CHOICES being used to describe alters, systems, CDD experiences, etc. don't really match up with my experiences at all. I take things extremely, extremely literally, and when everybody describes their alters and refers to them as distinct, different people, it's hard to feel like your experiences are the more common experience, especially when people around you might continue to reinforce that denial, by assuming you must not have alters, or you have a different disorder, etc., because you are "always awake and present no matter what alter is fronting", etc.

Your personal interpretation of your experiences matters a LOT when it comes to CDDs, figuring out if you have a CDD, and it also plays a large role into how your system might present/feel/look/what alters you have/etc.

For example, many people interpreted their alter experiences and switches as creating characters. That, then, might become a huge aspect of figuring out your alters - you might realize that many of the characters you've made (or all of them) through the years were actually alters. With that lens, you might, then, be able to have a lot of knowledge about your alters based off of that alone - those "characters" might have specific characteristics, lore, designs, etc. that you then realize were all a part of that alter.

You might also, then, find that each time you find yourself making a "new" "character", it's actually just a new alter forming/splitting (or perhaps them just finding out their own identity).

The way you personally interpret your experiences, your feelings, your life, memories, etc. all impact your alters and your system - the way your alters identify, the way it FEELS when alters front, the way your system presents, etc.

I grew up believing I was making things up and lying for seemingly no reason, for attention, because I liked being cool and special. Or that I was purposely acting out a fake, dramatic movie, just to add more drama.

In reality, I was experiencing alter switches and dissociation, but because I interpreted it in those ways, we now have a very difficult time trying to accept and believe that these are real feelings, real experiences, outside of my control, instead of me just saying things for attention and acting dramatic just because.

I also very much grew up feeling like "nothing ever sticks, so why bother taking anything seriously." Now, pretty much all of us still have this attitude, this feeling of "why bother coming up with a name, why bother taking (my feelings, etc.) seriously when it's just gonna go away and not come back."

I would feel confident in a decision or an identity or a name change and so on, only for me to change it the next day, or the next week, and so on.

This made things like questioning my gender identity and wanting to change my name extremely difficult and impossible because I could never be sure if it was going to actually STICK or just be a temporary, fleeting "phase." I became upset (and still become upset and distressed) every time everything turned out to just be a "phase" instead of a real, actual thing. I still have trouble with this. If I want to cut my hair or dye my hair or get new clothes, I will never be able to know for sure if I'll still like it in a different state. If I want a name change, I don't know if it'll be long-term or if I will change my mind the next day.

DID is more like this, and less like "I'm a totally different person with a distinctly different personality and a different name and I am not ("host")."

And if this is relatable to you, this post may very much help you figure out who your alters are.

A lot of things online that try to give suggestions and ideas for figuring out your alters in a way of "ask (your alters) these questions."

For me, I can't really do that, for a variety of different reasons - our dissociative barriers are too high, there's no inner world, and there's no kind of "distinct voices" that I "hear" speaking to me that are coming from a distinctly different "person." And since we as alters do not experience ourselves as distinct individuals where we just know who we are and know we are our own distinct individuals, it's less like asking my alters these questions, and more like asking MYSELF these questions. I want you keep that in mind going into this post.

When it comes to figuring out alters, what helps me is trying to keep track of patterns of changes in my behaviors, likes, dislikes, hobbies/interests, and more.

The following is a TEMPLATE of things you can ask yourself at different times, during different moods, modes, self-states - whatever you wanna call it.

I tried to make them as general as possible in order to hopefully make the questions apply to a general audience/a wide variety of people, instead of being too specific where they might not apply to most people.

You do not have to ask yourself all of these questions! If you don't know the answer to a question, and/or you don't want to answer a question, it can be important to write that down too! You can skip any questions or change them in any way you like.

If a question feels unhelpful to you, feel free to change it into something that might feel more helpful to you personally, and/or just remove it altogether.

Feel free to expand upon these questions! For example, if a question seems helpful to you, you might have further ideas to expand upon that question into further, more specific questions. I actually totally encourage other people to expand upon these questions and come up with more questions that could help others! Definitely share your thoughts in reblogs if you want.

I want to make it clear, first, that this post is NOT trying to make people OBSESS over this!!!! These questions are meant to help figure out alters, but don't obsess over it!

The purpose of these questions is to simply try and keep track of possible patterns of behaviors, etc., not to obsess over figuring out your alters, not to obsess over figuring out what alter you are, not to obsess over making sure your alters are "consistent all the time" or something. It doesn't matter about knowing "who" you are so much as it matters to let yourself exist as you are, at any given moment. It's to allow yourself to exist and see if there is a pattern of emotions, opinions, preferences, likes, dislikes, interests/hobbies, behaviors, and more that crop of every so often - this is what alters are for a lot of people. Like I said, it's less like "distinct, separate person" and more like a recurring pattern of the same/similar emotions/behaviors/traits/etc. that crop up every so often, oftentimes in response to things, such as topics that you may find triggering (for example: feeling like an angry wolf every time the topic of physical abuse comes up, or feeling like a scared child when you feel like someone said something upsetting), or even positive topics, such as feeling like you become a girl whenever the topic of fashion gets brought up, or feeling like you're 13 when the topic of a childhood beloved TV show comes up.

While "feeling like (xyz) in response to (xyz)" does not necessarily mean you have a CDD, this post is specifically about those experiences under the context of having a CDD. If you relate to anything I wrote in this post, it does not necessarily mean you have a CDD! Similarly, if you DON'T relate to anything in this post, it also doesn't mean you DON'T have a CDD! I am sharing this post with the assumption that the people reading it already know they have a CDD, and/or strongly suspect it.

Questions to ask myself for figuring out alters:

Month day, year. Time (or whatever way you want to write down the month/day/year/time).

What name(s) do I like?:

This doesn't have to be names of specific alters (by that I mean, you don't have to go through your list of alters with specific names to figure out if you like one of them). You can write a vague idea of what name/names you might like (such as "a name related to plants" or "a name that reminds me of the ocean"). You can write down multiple names. You can write down no name. You can write down that you're indifferent. Anything!

What pronouns do I like?:

Again, you can write down anything. If multiple sets of pronouns vibe, write that down! If nothing vibes, write it down! If you don't have any strong feelings/if you're indifferent, write that down too! If you don't know, write that down!

Are there any particular labels I feel drawn to/feel I identify with?:

It can be an LGBTQ+ label (bisexual, demiboy, aromantic, lesbian, etc.), or a label related to something else

What kind of color(s) am I drawn to?:

Darker colors? Pastel colors? Neon colors? Light colors? Etc.

What do I want to do? What would I do if I had the resources (time, money, 'skill', motivation, energy, etc.) (for example, maybe you wish you could play guitar, but you can’t play guitar, don’t have a guitar, etc.)?:

Similarly, is there anything that I might normally be interested in that I find myself no longer wanting to do?:

-- Listening to music: What songs? Am I singing along? What are the songs about? How do I feel about the music? Are there any songs I dislike? Any particular common genre/theme with the music I find myself liking right now?

-- Art: - What kind of art (Digital art? Doing makeup? Sculpting? Knitting? Painting? Woodworking? Photography? Any art counts.) - What is my art style like/what tools am I using? (If digital art, what program am I using? What brushes am I using? Etc. (Different alters might prefer to use different art programs and different art brushes!)) - What does the artwork depict? (Vent art? Are there themes of trauma? Dissociation? Fanart? Something else?)

-- Playing a game: - What game? - What am I doing in the game? Are there different game modes? If so, what mode am I playing? Is my character customizable, and if so, how does my character look? (Some alters might prefer to change the way the character looks to match how they might feel inside!) - Are there any games I don't currently care for?

-- Watching YouTube: - What is the topic of the video? (Is it about a hobby I like? A TV series? A video essay? Something else?)

-- Playing an instrument: - What instrument? - Am I trying to learn a specific song/songs? - Am I making my own music? Are there lyrics to go along with it? - If it’s a specific song (either writing your own, or trying to learn how to play a certain song on an instrument), what is it about? Any specific themes that stick out?

-- Writing: Poetry? Working on a book/short story? What is it about? What genre? (Romance? Non-fiction? Etc.) Is it fanfiction?

-- Reading: What am I reading? What is it about? What genre? (Romance? Non-fiction? Etc.) Is it fanfiction?

-- Something else…

What am I thinking about?

What am I talking about?

How am I feeling?

Did something trigger me to feel this certain way?

If something triggered me to feel a certain way, do I know the reason(s) why? (For example, if you encountered something that brings up trauma-related feelings, etc.)

You might describe your feelings in ways other than a simple “sad”, “mad”, or “happy.” You might be more specific, such as “I feel like white noise” or “I feel like a dog” or “I feel like an ocean.” This is completely valid and an important thing to keep note of as well. You can even write down that you feel tall, or you feel a different age, or you feel like a certain character.

There are many more questions that you could ask 'yourself' to get to know 'yourselves.' This list is not exhaustive, and like I said, you can simply you this template to bounce off ideas of what questions you, personally, would find most helpful!

I'd love to hear anybody's input, and I hope this post helps anyone. :] If not, feel free to share around anyway, if you want!

#my posts #actuallyDID #actuallyosdd #osdd system #did system

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