#I have a lot of thoughts about nonhumanity that I don’t know how to share | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elysiadjarin · 3 years

Text

Sword and Shield 10

Tags: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Part 9: Shatter

Warnings: very much 18+, minors DNI you have been warned, TW for trauma and PTSD, PIV unprotected sex (irl please be safe and use protection), everything is consensual, overstimulation, oral, cockwarming, dom/sub interactions, choking, subspace mentions, poly relationship. Also I swear Wrecker will get a chapter too, don’t come at me!!

I know it’s been a while but I hope this long chapter makes up for it!

10: Recover, Relive

Two more smaller missions later, the Bad Batch had been given a break. You’d pushed through the healing and the expected night of nightmares just fine thanks to being able to curl up to the warmth of Tech and Wrecker. The entire team had been pretty careful with you for the past couple of days, letting you have your space to recover while you continued to work alongside them for missions.

Crosshair hadn’t said anything, really, but his willingness to just let you quietly sit in his presence or in the back of his mind and polish your Rifle form was his way of showing support that you appreciated.

You'd been relieved for the break, knowing that you needed a moment to reset and devote everything to recovering. While you'd started to get over the worst nightmares and the last of your injuries had completely healed, you were still struggling with flashbacks and keeping your focus.

Sitting curled up on Hunter's bunk, you leaned your chin against your knees pulled up to your chest and sighed. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see Skarla's maniacal eyes and bloodstained grin as she reached into your body and reveled in your pain. You could still hear your own screams echoing through your memories. You'd buried them so deep, the inhibitor chips having contributed to the suppression, and now... well, it was coming back and demanding to be dealt with.

The 501st had already helped you deal with so much of your past. But not everything. And this... these memories had been ones that you’d barely disclosed to even them.

“Shiv.”

You looked up to see Hunter standing in front of the bunk, carefully sitting down on the edge. “Oh... hi.” You smiled faintly.

He observed you carefully. “Are you doing okay?”

For a moment, the temptation to just say “I’m fine” hovered on your lips. But you remembered how disappointed all your Vod’ika had been when they discovered you’d been suffering and hadn’t told them. And the Bad Batch... the ones you loved, deserved better. You knew that.

So you looked down at your knees, then back up at him. “A memory for a memory?” you offered.

Surprise flickered through his eyes, then he scooted backward and leaned against the wall. “I guess that’s fair,” he admitted. Eyebrows furrowing, he thought for a minute before finally answering. “There was one mission,” he said slowly. “It was pretty early on. Everything... almost went wrong to the point of failure. In the end, it was my fault that I didn’t listen and got Tech nearly killed.” His chest heaved with a sigh, his head shaking. “It taught me a valuable lesson, and made me a better leader. Tech forgave me. But sometimes... I still hate myself for it.” Bitterness laced his tone. “I can still hear him screaming in pain, and remember how I felt when I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forget how my own stupidity and pride allowed me to fail the team. In some ways... what happened to you on our first mission reminded me of that.”

You sat in silence for a minute, mulling over his story. In retrospect, it would make sense why Hunter had seemed to loathe himself overmuch and take too much blame for your injury on that mission. Still, you knew that most of it had been your own fault for getting distracted and allowing yourself to get sidetracked from the mission.

“Skarla,” you said abruptly. You felt his surprise over the Bond before it faded away. “She...” Your lips twisted. “She is who she is for a reason. But she’s also... extremely cruel. I... I can survive and heal from wounds that most can’t, because of what I am,” you said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “So my wounds sometimes— they seem a lot worse to others than to me because my scale of survival is different. Skarla has... well,” you said, shifting, “she’s well aware of that fact. Every time I would fail to defeat the Guardian, she would be allowed to punish me for fifteen minutes in whatever way she pleased.”

Fifteen minutes of Nine Corellian Hells. Fifteen minutes of begging for death.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve been torn open, ribs cracked, my guts rearranged,” you said, exhaustion lining your voice. “Honestly, I’ve forgotten a lot of it. My brain... couldn’t handle keeping the memories and still staying sane, I was told. I guess it’s better I don’t. What I do still remember... it haunts me. Just the memory of the pain, wishing for death. Staring up at the ceiling of the chamber and hearing my own blood splatter against the walls, hearing myself scream like a stranger. They’re some of my worst memories. Being back there... it was hard but...” You looked down thoughtfully at your hands.

“As hard as it was... it wasn’t unbearable. Not anymore. Knowing that- that all of you were there, and that— that you believed in me, trusted me... Even Tech: he trusted me. It gave me a strength to face not just my past but my nightmares and memories now because... because I have all of you.” You gave Hunter a small but genuine smile. “Being able to feel that strength... it helped me to defeat my past.”

Hunter met your gaze with a softness in his eyes that warmed you. He held out his hand, and you took it gratefully. “We’re here for you, Shiv. In whatever way you need.”

You nodded, then scooted closer to him and leaned into his side. “I’m here, too. I want... I want to return the strength you’ve given me.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “You do already. In more ways than you know.”

Despite yourself, you had to duck your head as heat rose to your face. Your mind wouldn’t stop supplying you with memories of Hunter thrusting into you, his hands gripped around your waist and siding down your back, pulling you into his hips. His face buried between your legs, fingers sliding into you— Crosshair’s lithe fingers wrapping around your throat as Hunter came inside you, moaning—

Hunter let out a quiet chuckle. “Oh, did you remember something else in particular, Shiv?”

Thoroughly embarrassed, you buried your face in your hands with a whimper, knowing he could feel the heat coming from you and probably even smell you at this point. But for some reason... the memories wouldn’t stop. You.... wanted it. Wanted him.

Hunter’s mouth brushed against your throat, even as he pulled you back and into his chest. “If you want to make new memories, I’d be glad to help with that.”

You whined, biting your lips. “I...”

He kissed your neck, sliding up to your jaw. His hand reached up and gently tilted your chin to his face. “Is this what you want, Shiv?” he asked it in a low, husky tone, his dark eyes darting down to your mouth with a flare of desire.

You swallowed, then nodded. Yes. You wanted Hunter.

He bent and kissed you. His kiss this time was a bit different. Maybe because this time you were alone, you didn’t know, but... there was something about his kiss that was more tender, more... slow, as though he were savoring you, memorizing the feel of your lips against his.

“Come here,” Hunter rasped, turning you towards himself. Reaching up, he pulled his shirt off and dragged you close again, his hands sliding down your back as he kissed you. His mouth was hungry, his hands taking yours and placing them against his chest. His fingers gently slid under your top, and he pulled back for a moment.

“Can I?”

You nodded shyly, letting him slide your shirt and bra off. His hands slid up, cupping your breasts in his hands and admiring them for a moment.

“Can’t blame Tech for being obsessed,” Hunter admitted after a moment, teasing your nipples with his fingers.

You whimpered, shivering under the touch as you bit your lip. His calloused hands were warm and firm, and the deft confidence in the way he touched you brought back memories of his hands effortlessly wielding you as a blaster. Hunter’s touch was one of a leader, confident and respectful of the power he held, knowing its limits and its capacities and treating it accordingly.

“So you feel that, too,” Hunter murmured, making you realize that his Bond with you was alight with shared sensation.

His hand moved down, splaying over your bared stomach. He paused, his eyes curious as he simply gazed at his fingers, his palm covering your navel. Your chest heaved with breath as you wondered what he was thinking. A little embarrassed at the intensity that had crept into his gaze, your fingers twitched on the waist of his trousers.

Hunter bent forward, then, and caught your mouth in a long, languid kiss that brimmed with appreciation. His hands swept down to your waist, settling on your hips. “You’re beautiful, Shiv,” he murmured against your mouth.

A little surprised, you pulled back to blink up at him. Hunter had never really struck you as one to pay attention to that sort of thing, so his soft, earnest comment surprised you.

He reached up, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know all of us love all of you, and admittedly some of us might be especially appreciative of specific things. But whenever I see you, all I think of is... you,” he said slowly, eyes trailing over your face. “Watching you interact with the team, seeing you get excited when you’re successful in Transference, or even just... sitting on a bunk somewhere. I think just your astral form is enough for me to know it’s you, mesh’la.” He leaned his forehead against yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to smile and close your eyes. The warmth curled in you, and you let your happiness spill over the Bond.

“Mm. Although I do think that you’re a different kind of pretty when you’re clearly enjoying getting fucked,” Hunter chuckled, his voice deepening as he leaned closer to your ear.

The filthy words accompanied by the way Hunter’s hands sensually trailed up your front made you bite your lip and flush, looking down. Despite yourself, a thought popped into your head and you suddenly giggled, reaching up to press your fingers against your lips.

“Something funny?” Hunter asked, amusement lacing his own voice.

“My Vod’ika,” you giggled. “They’d all be losing their minds if they knew that I—“ you burst into a fresh wave of laughter, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Maker, Kix is protective enough, he’d want to kill all of you- and Fives, oh, Fives—“ Tears of laughter welled in your eyes as you thought about it. Fives wouldn’t know whether to tease you or want to fight the Bad Batch. Hawk and Dogma would be in shock that you were with four people.

Hunter laughed with you, shaking his head. “Not sure if I should laugh or be offended that you’re thinking of other men while I’m touching you,” he teased.

You suppressed your laughter, grinning up at him. “Sorry, Hunter,” you managed. “I promise I’m paying attention to you.” You lifted his hand to your face, leaning your cheek into his palm with a smile.

His eyes darkened, and he tipped you back. Catching you gently, he lowered you onto the bunk and pulled the pillow under your head. Shifting himself above you, he bent to kiss you and pull your body against his. His fingers played against your shorts, and you had to squirm a little at the way your body sparked at the friction. Letting out a little noise into his mouth, you canted your hips up as he ground against you.

Hunter let out a quiet grunt into your mouth, nipping at your lips. “You want these off, mesh’la?” His hands tugged at your shorts.

You lifted your hips, letting him slide them off. To your vague surprise, he left your underwear on. He started to kiss down your neck and chest. His fingers slid around the thin underwear, and he grunted as he felt how slick you’d already gotten. His fingers found barely any friction as they slid into your core.

You gasped, back arching as he pressed his fingers up into you. He worked you in a way that had you whining, entirely at his mercy as he proved how diligent he’d been in exploring your body and leaning your curves and edges. He traveled down your body, kissing your thigh as he continued to work his fingers and stretch you. The way he stared at your drooling core sent a flush of heat through you.

Then his thumb pushed aside more of the underwear, and his face lowered.

You let out a strangled gasp, back arching as your hands flew down and found purchase in his hair. His breath was hot against your core, his tongue dizzyingly familiar with your body. He grunted as your fingers tightened and twisted in his hair, his fingers finding that spot that had you arching into his mouth with a moan.

“Hunter,” you moaned, trembling against him as you felt that coil tighten in your abdomen.

After one last, long lick, Hunter lifted his mouth and licked you off of his lips with a satisfied look. Shifting himself back up your body, he slid his fingers out of you and instead brought them to your mouth.

You let him slide his fingers between your lips, the flavor bursting in your mouth. His fingers pushed against your tongue, and he surveyed you with dark eyes and a lazy smile. After a moment, he pulled his hand away and slid his trousers off, bending to kiss you again. He settled himself between your legs, his cock resting heavily against your core and up your lower belly. Something slick dripped onto your skin, warm and thick.

“Is this okay, Shiv?” Hunter asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, reaching up to slide your hands up his shoulders. Over the Bond, you could feel the way his utter desperation to be inside you heightened. His mind, as he lost control of the Bond, kept focusing on the way your body melted into his hands, the way his body burned as he pressed against you, the way he gravitated towards you. He let out a quiet gasp as his cock slipped against you, his eyes squeezing shut above you.

He slowly, ever so slowly, eased into you. Every inch earned you another low groan, and you had to stare up at his face in awe. Hunter’s face twisted in pleasure, his jaw clenched and his eyelashes fluttering.

“Maker, mesh’la,” he choked, shuddering above you as he completely bottomed out, buried deep inside you. “I can’t— you’re so kriffing tight.” His eyes, when he opened them to stare down at you, looked practically drugged.

You abruptly remembered Hunter’s enhanced senses, especially as a wave came over his side of the Bond of his overwhelmed pleasure. Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands, trying to make sure he wouldn’t overdo himself.

“Just relax,” you whispered, feeling the way he trembled against you. You knew that the moment he started moving you’d be dangerously close to the edge thanks to his own pleasure he was sharing across the Bond. Not to mention the way Hunter was practically collapsed on top of you, his body pressed against yours, his low groans spilling into your ear as his mouth pressed against your skin. His arms braced himself on either side of you, your legs propped up against his hips.

“Gonna— gonna move,” he hissed, slowly pulling back out so only his tip stayed in you. “Kriff,” he mumbled under his breath.

You were already making sloppy sounds, and you whimpered as he pushed back into you. The way his movements were so precise and sure, the way his mouth pressed against yours with a burning need made that tightness in you start to snap. You whined, already so close to coming.

“You gonna cum, Shiv?” Hunter chuckled, his voice raspy. “You’re so kriffing wet around me.”

You moaned, eyes fluttering as he started to thrust, pitching into you smoothly. His hand reached down between you, and his thumb found your clit.

“You feel so good, so hot and wet and tight,” he murmured, beginning to praise you even as his hips started to stutter. “Kriff, mesh’la, you take me so well. So pretty, under me like this.”

You whimpered, reveling in the soft praises and touches that he showered on you. You could feel him starting to get close himself, his movements a little more erratic as he lost control.

“So lucky to have you, that you love us,” Hunter rasped against your neck, his kiss almost reverent. “Gonna— gonna cum, mesh’la—“

His finger twitched against your clit and you were arching, crying out his name as the heat washed through you, white hot. Pleasure burst behind your eyelids as you came, just as he slammed into you and ground, groaning your name. He spilled into you, filling you up, then shuddered and collapsed against you. His body leaned against yours, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder.

The heat that pooled in your belly as Hunter kept you plugged made your eyelashes flutter. Letting out a soft sigh of contentment, you reached up and gently drew your fingers through his hair.

His chest heaved for breath, and his hands ran down your sides appreciatively. “I love you, so much,” he whispered, his voice getting heavy.

You reached up and pressed a shy kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you too, Hunter. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He fell asleep rather quickly, though you guessed it was in part due to the overstimulation. You waited until he was asleep before carefully sliding out from underneath him. You quickly adjusted your underwear to catch Hunter’s cum starting to run down your leg. You needed to make it to the fresher, but had to lean against the wall halfway there as your knees almost gave out.

You finally managed to go get yourself cleaned up, and went to go change underwear and fetch your bra. You made rounds to collect laundry, putting in a load and blowing out a breath. Pushing hair away from your face, you went to the common area to go find a T-shirt you knew you’d left in there.

Looking around, you finally caught sight of the large shirt and perked up, going to go grab it and slide it over yourself. Tech was the only other one in the common room, and you made a quick decision as you walked over to him.

“Tech?” you asked softly.

He looked up at you, blinking owlishly as he registered your presence. “Ah, Shiv.” He readjusted his goggles. “Can I assist you with something?”

You tilted your head, clasping the edge of the shirt in your fingers. “If... if you’re not busy, can I— can I talk with you?” you asked, suddenly a bit nervous.

He turned fully toward you. “Sure, Shiv. I was just working on a few odds and ends anyway.”

You glanced down at his legs. “Um, can I— can I sit?”

Some confusion flickered across his face. “Of course-“

You got closer to him and slid into his lap, facing him with your legs on either side of him and your hands twisted in the hem of your shirt. He let out a small noise of surprise, his hands coming up to your hips to steady you.

“I wanted to thank you,” you said softly, still not looking up at his face.

“Thank me? For what, Shiv?” Tech asked curiously. His hands tugged at you, bringing you a little closer to him.

“I know I said it before, but— but I really wanted to thank you properly,” you said, scrambling for words. “For how you trusted me, back during the... the ritual.” You made a little, nervous gesture. “I mean— it means more to me than I think you realize. It’s— the ritual is one that’s... that’s fueled by blood, whether yourself or your Champion. Skarla— she’s always been very powerful and- and she... she was very cruel to me, a long time ago. Going back there was...” your face twisted in misery as you looked down. “It was really difficult, and I— it brought back a lot of fear.”

Taking a breath, you made yourself look up at him. “But you trusted me, believed in me. You didn’t even question me when I led you towards dangerous places, and did everything I asked without hesitating. You trusted me to the point that when faced with something unusual... you readily gave your blood for me.” Your heart was in your throat even as you said it. “It— it meant so much to me, Tech,” your voice wavered, your eyes welling with tears. “The only reason I actually won that match... is because of you.” You met his eyes, trying to convey how much it truly meant.

Tech’s eyes widened as he gazed at you with surprise, his fingers tightening around your waist.

“You gave me the strength I needed to push through, and the way you believed in me...” You reached up and wiped away the grateful tears that had sprang to your eyes. “I fought a battle against my fear and the memories of my failure, too,” you whispered. “But your faith in me was what really gave me the power to win. And I wanted— I needed to thank you. So you know... know what it means to me.”

Tech leaned forward. Your eyes widened as he kissed you, taken a bit aback by the suddenness. But it felt so good, the way his mouth pressed against yours and the way his emotions started to spill over the Bond to you. Tech was... his kiss always made you lean into him, eyes fluttering closed as you melted into the gentle, desperate affection. His precise, clinical nature softened whenever he kissed and touched you.

“I am glad that you are all right,” Tech said, his voice quiet and earnest. “It was... frightening, to see you fight alone. I am pleased to know that I could give you strength in any way I could.”

You leaned forwards and hugged him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You’re welcome, cyar’ika,” he murmured back. He let out a sigh as you shifted, his hands gripping around your hips. “Shiv— could I ask a favor?”

You blinked, pulling back to look up at him.

He glanced down at the hem of your shirt, and an image flashed across the Bond. You, leaning against Wrecker’s chest, fast asleep, Wrecker’s thick cock buried inside you as your chest rose and fell with breath and your face flushed with the arousal. Color crept up Tech’s neck.

“I— um—“

You looked up at him with a shy smile, a bit embarrassed but also flattered that he seemed to be so enamored with your body as well. Leaning down, you grasped his hand and brought it up to the hem of your shirt, pushing his fingers up under it.

Tech swallowed, his hand trailing upward, sliding to the edge of your bra. He glanced at you for permission, and you answered by reaching down and unzipping his trousers. His breath hitched as you began to slowly pump him, your fingers playing a little with his tip. His hand slid under your bra, brushing over your nipple as you bit your lips at the stimulation. Your body was still a little sensitive after Hunter, and you were starting to feel the tiredness pluck at your eyelids.

Tech slid his fingers around your underwear, only to feel you dripping wet and still leaking a bit of Hunter. He brought his fingers up and didn’t seem to be surprised at the white, simply sticking it in his mouth.

“Shiv,” Tech murmured, bending to press a kiss to your throat.

You scooted forwards, letting him guide himself into you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you had to let out a soft moan as he sank fully into you, stuffing you so perfectly. Tech really was the perfect girth for this, you thought dizzily. He just hit every spot inside you as he stuffed you full and kept you sitting still on his cock. It almost made you feel torn between wanting to move and wanting it to stay there, resting perfectly inside you, lighting you up in the best way possible.

He let out a groan against your ear, his hands keeping your hips pressed against his, keeping you completely pressed into his chest, every curve of your body melting against his. Letting out a shuddering breath, he shifted and scooted forwards, beginning to resume his work.

Despite yourself, you had to open your mouth against the crook of his neck and shoulder, biting down gently and beginning to absently suckle. His skin had a hint of salt, but just the warmth of his skin comforted you, your eyes fluttering closed as you suckled a mark into his neck.

Eventually you fell asleep, happily cradled against him and stuffed completely full.

“Oh, hey, there’s Shiv! I was wondering where she was.”

Stirring, you started to wake up. Reaching up, you rubbed at your eye and felt the yawn build in your mouth.

“You woke her up, Wrecker,” Tech sounded a bit morose.

“Huh? Oh— sorry, Shiv.” Wrecker’s voice sounded closer.

You sat up a little, arms still flung across Tech’s shoulders. Stretching, you let the yawn stretch your mouth and your eyes flutter open. Sleep still sticking in your eyes, you blinked up at Wrecker, lips parted.

Wrecker grinned. “Did you have a good nap?”

You nodded belatedly, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. For a moment, you just blankly stared at Tech’s collar as you woke up more fully. Then shaking your head, you looked up at his face. He gazed back down at you, his hand lightly resting on your thigh. He brushed his thumb across your skin, and you suddenly realized why your lower body felt warm with a pulsing heat. He was still buried hilt deep inside you, his cock thick and hard as it pressed up inside you.

“You’ve been asleep for a chron,” Tech said, his voice surprisingly even.

Your mind fizzled for a moment. He hadn’t moved for a whole chron? He hadn’t cum, obviously, so... Then your lips parted, and you tilted your head at him. But your breath caught in your throat, and you instead shivered and looked down, your face blooming with warmth. Reaching up, you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth to suppress your whimper.

“Ah— th-thank you, I— I think I needed that nap,” you admitted, trying to scrape yourself together. “Um-“ You glanced up to see Tech’s knowing, little smile that he gave you. His hand slid down to your inner thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin. His eyes glittered with the knowledge that at the moment, the T-shirt was the only thing hiding the way your body was clenching around him, making a wet spot against his trousers, drooling all over him, coating your thighs in slick. Every time he pulsed, you felt his cock press up against your g-spot.

“Wrecker, can you hand Shiv her datapad? I think it’s still on the table,” Tech said, his voice still frustratingly calm considering how clearly desperate his body was.

You glanced up at him in a bit of despair, wondering if he was really going to still not move. Though it didn’t surprise you that Tech’s patience and endurance were so high, still. This was on the verge of being cruel. Your body clearly had been frustrated this whole time you’d been asleep, denied movement and friction.

Wrecker handed you the datapad, and you took it with a weak smile. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Tech’s hand squeezed a handful of your thigh. Stay still for me, cyar’ika. And because it was Tech, somehow the order was still coated with that enamored desperation that made you want to obey, just to give him whatever he wanted.

Leaning forward again, you rested your chin against Tech’s shoulder and propped your arms over his shoulders, opening up the datapad. You also realized that Tech had taken off your bra, though you wondered where he’d put it. Not that you cared, particularly. He leaned forward a little as well, reaching for a tool, and pressed your breasts against his chest.

You whined across the Bond, pouting at how mean he was.

He just chuckled, the loving affection pouring across the Bond a satisfactory compensation.

Wrecker sat across from you, beginning to chatter about how he’d been training. You listened, humming and nodding as you pulled up the schematics that Tech had uploaded to your datapad for Wrecker’s combat gloves. You’d been studying and modifying them so that hopefully Wrecker would be able to have them by the next mission.

Just then, Crosshair strolled in. “Hunter says there’s a bit of turbulence ahead,” he drawled, just as the ship jolted.

You let out a choked gasp as it made you rise a little and slam back down on Tech’s cock. Eyes widening, you tried to keep your composure as you gripped onto your datapad. Tech’s grunt had been lost, but the way he throbbedinside you was a sweet sort of revenge.

“Whoa.” Wrecker grabbed onto his seat. “What is it?”

“Asteroid belt,” Cross said, grabbing onto the nearest steady surface. “We have to manually fly through some of it.”

Your mind was already short circuiting. Tech had somehow gotten bigger inside of you, and you were almost on the verge of tears thanks to the way he was pressing into all your sensitive spots. At this point, you were just desperately trying to hold still while your body clamped down on his cock and inched so much closer to the edge. Tech’s hand on your lower back still somehow kept you grounded, reminding you not to move. You didn’t want to disobey. You wanted to make Tech happy.

“Hey Shiv, what’re you working on?” Wrecker asked, turning to you. The ship still dipped and swerved once in a while.

You fumbled with your datapad, connecting it to the holoscreen and transferring the data. “Your- your gloves,” you managed, trying to keep yourself at least coherent. But it was so hard when Tech’s warmth was engulfing you, his hand sweeping down your back, across your thigh, pressing your chest into his.

“I’m trying to modify them before our next mission,” you continued, highlighting the list of mods you’d created off to the side of the schematic. “These are the ones that have already been done, and these are the ones that I’d like to try to do-“

The ship jolted, taking a sharp turn up before coming straight back down and banking. This time, you barely managed to keep yourself from letting out a filthy, desperate moan. Tech had slid his hand down as though to brace you, but his thumb slid under the hem of the shirt and instead slicked up your clit.

You’re doing very well, Shiv, Tech’s voice puddled in your mind. You already came twice while you were asleep. You were so good for Hunter, do you think you could be good for me just a little longer?

So you bit back your sob and instead sank your teeth into your lip so hard you swore you’d leave a mark. You weren’t surprised that Tech knew about you and Hunter’s earlier session: Hunter always projected unconsciously once he was on sensory overload.

“That looks super cool, Shiv! I can’t wait to test it out.” Wrecker was grinning.

“Ah— sorry, Shiv. I need to grab this for a moment,” Tech said, just before moving forward and pressing his hand against your lower back. He grabbed something, then leaned back again and trailed his hand up your back.

Crosshair met your gaze across the room, his lips tilting up in a knowing smirk. His eyes swept over you, a hint of appreciation buried in his dark eyes. He said nothing, but you knew that he’d figured out exactly what was happening. You were past the point of embarrassment. Not only because your body was desperate, but also because the boys all quite clearly appreciated the projections over the Bonds and the sight of you being made a mess over and over.

The final jolt back into hyperspace proved to be too much for you. The way it pressed you wholly into Tech’s front and caused your clit to grind against his hip. The way your body clenched even wrenched a grunt from him.

The datapad fell from your weak fingers, clattering to the floor. Your head dropped down, your breaths quick and shallow as your entire face flushed, eyes fluttering closed. Lips parted, you peeled open drugged and teary eyes.

“Shiv? You okay?” Wrecker asked, looking at you in some surprise.

“Cruel, Tech,” Hunter’s amused voice came from the doorway. He jerked his head. “I’m going to go get some more shut-eye. Take care of her.” He disappeared down the hall.

“Huh?” Wrecker looked thoroughly confused.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Wrecker, she’s been sitting there for over a chron.”

Tech turned the chair to give Wrecker the full view. His hand slid up your thigh, bringing the edge of the shirt up as his hand traveled further up your hip and waist. “She’s been cockwarming me,” Tech said almost casually. “I wanted to see how sensitive she could get. A... pleasant experiment, if you will.”

You were shivering at that point, your mouth watering as tears slipped down your cheeks. The overstimulation was a pleasure you simultaneously wished would end and yet never stop. Your entire body felt like you were trying to completely melt into Tech, legs trembling.

Wrecker laughed, eyes lighting up. “Whoa Tech, I guess you really must have wanted it. A whole chron?” He shook his head, but his eyes trailed over you. “I mean, Shiv does look really pretty like that, though,” he admitted.

Crosshair approached, bending to tilt your chin up to his face with his finger. “Well, it looks like our little kitten is rather happy about your experiment. But also getting... desperate.” A smirk curled the corner of his lips as he stared at you through half-lidded eyes. “How... appealing.” He brushed a tear off of your chin, then straightened and walked back toward the door. “Take care of her, Tech. I’ll be back to talk to her once she’s... available.”

“Good luck, Shiv. I’m gonna go get a snack,” Wrecker said cheerfully, following Cross out the door with a wave.

“It seems as though we all liked the results of this experiment,” Tech remarked, sounding satisfied.

Your fingers curled in his shirt, nails scraping across his back. Lips parting, you breathed his name in a soft, half-drunk voice that dripped with pleasure. You wanted to cum, yes, but more than that, you wanted the satisfaction of hearing Tech praise you for not moving, for being good. Just his hand on your back and the steady affection that poured over the Bond was enough to make you seek more, whatever the means.

Tech shivered under you at the sound of his name spilling from your lips, and his fingers tightened on your waist. “You’ve done so well, cyar’ika,” he murmured, kissing your ear. “Thank you for being patient. Can I make it up to you, now?”

Your mouth watered at the idea, and you pulled back a little to be able to look up at his face. You knew you were a wreck, lips trembling and tear streaks down your face, but you wanted it. Wanted to ask.

“Can I-“ You swallowed thickly, feeling your face flush. “Can you...” You licked your lips. “In my mouth?”

Surprise flickered in his eyes for a moment, then he reached forward and cupped your face in his hands. His thumbs brushed away the tear-tracks, and his eyes softened. “If that’s what you want, of course. But I’d like to make you feel good, first.”

Your mind fuzzed with confusion. Make you feel good? But that’s literally all you’d been feeling the whole time, wasn’t it? He was the one that hadn’t cum yet.

All remaining coherent thought flew out of your head the moment Tech’s fingers found your clit. He leaned forward, drawing you into a tender kiss that sharply contrasted the way he dragged his fingers against you. His hips snapped up into you once, and you broke.

You wailed.

The pent-up release that had been building as he edged you over and over had you seeing stars, fireworks, whole galaxies. It burst inside you with a heat that washed over you and stole your breath, searing into your bones and wrenching a shattered sob from your mouth. You hardly registered that Tech’s name was spilling from your lips in a litany of prayer, too wrecked to even remember your own name.

You slowly wound down from the devastating high, trembling, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your body sparked and shuddered, humming in the aftermath in a way that left a glowing ember of satisfied warmth deep inside you. Coming undone had never so intensely walked the line of pleasure just this side of pain.

Tech’s arms were wrapping around your waist, one hand coming up to cup your face as he pulled you to lean against him. You started to register his steady stream of praise as he kissed your cheek and trailed his lips down your neck and shoulder.

“You did so well, cyar’ika. You deserve to feel good. So pretty, cumming for me.”

Your eyelashes fluttered as you slowly recovered, your body all but boneless against his chest. Snuggling into him, you tucked your face into his neck and sighed softly. You just... wanted a moment. To just press against Tech and feel his presence, his hands gently skimming over you, soothing you.

“Are you okay?” Tech checked, his voice low and inquisitive.

You hummed and nodded against his shoulder, basking in the glow of the high. “Thank you, Tech,” you murmured shyly.

He coaxed your head back so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “For what? You’re the one who had to put up with my experiment.” The words were half-teasing, but his thumb stroked over your cheek with a tenderness that showed his mild concern.

You shook your head, reaching up to delicately brush your fingers across his face, peering up from under your lashes. “You take really good care of me, even though you’re feeling it a lot too...”

He had to be almost on the verge of pain. The way he was still buried inside you at the moment gave you an acute knowledge of how much his cock was throbbing, straining inside you.

His breath came out a bit shaky. “You come first, cyar’ika.”

Reaching up, you pulled him into a grateful kiss. Before the 501st, and even then rarely, no one had ever put you first in anything. The way the Bad Batch had taken care of you even in the middle of war had been a first in so many ways. And even now, Tech had put your wellbeing and comfort first, before his own. You wanted to return the favor.

Tech leaned into the kiss, clearly growing desperate for relief. Still, the kiss was tender for all its hunger, and his hands smoothed over your waist gently.

Pulling back, you slid out of his lap and all but puddled to the floor, your knees completely weak after the force of your orgasm. Still, that’s all you needed. Scooting forward a little, you reached out and brushed your fingers against the swollen, almost purpled head of his weeping cock. He was straining, and he let out a hiss as your fingers dragged across him. A thought struck you, and you tilted your head.

“What do you want, Tech?” you asked, your fingers smearing with your own slick coating his cock. You looked up at him, wanting to please him in the way he wanted.

He lurched forward a little, then looked down at you and panted. “I— wh-what... I...”

You paused in your stroking, your thumb rubbing on the underside. “I want you to feel good, too.”

Before he could quite help himself or stop it, a thought rocketed across the Bond. Color burst in his neck, creeping up to the tips of his ears. Despite yourself, you had to stifle a giggle and instead smile a little, wholly unsurprised even if his reaction did amuse you.

Shuffling forward, you pulled your shirt up and over your head. You had to think about it for a moment, but you decided to just give it your best shot regardless of the potential awkwardness. For Tech... you’d try your best. You pushed yourself closer to his lap, letting his straining cock fall between your breasts. Reaching up, you pushed your chest together and felt the slick slide against your skin.

Tech let out a low, tortured groan that made your already-battered body pulse with appreciation. He shuddered, eyes squeezing shut as pure pleasure flashed across his face. His eyes peeled open in time to see you kitten lick the tip of his cock just peeking from between your breasts.

Readjusting yourself, you found a position that let you move a little bit while still having access for your mouth. Sliding lower, you took the whole head into your mouth. It had swollen to the point that it was almost a struggle to get it in your mouth. The moment the heat of your mouth hit his cock, he let out a strangled moan and lurched, shuddering.

“I’m not— not going to last, Shiv,” he gasped, his whole body starting to tremble.

You lifted your mouth. “S’okay, Tech,” you said shyly. “You can use me.”

You knew that he was close, but you really had underestimated the effect the visual was having on him. You’d just stretched your mouth open around him again when he let out a half-choked cry. It took you by surprise, not expecting it that quickly.

Taken off guard, the first burst into your mouth made you squeak. Every spurt of his cum kept gathering in your mouth faster than you could swallow, and soon your mouth was completely full. It started to trickle out of the corners of your mouth, while you braced yourself for balance by splaying your palm against Tech’s stomach. His hand reached down and tangled in your hair, twitching weakly as he groaned.

He was gasping for breath by the time he rode out his high. His fingers loosened, and your mouth popped off of his cock as you fell back onto the floor. Mouth still full, you whined in protest as it started to drip out of your mouth. Some splashed onto your chest, and you lifted your fingers to your lips as you swallowed. You still hadn’t swallowed all of it by the time you opened your mouth for breath, so more of it ended up on your chest.

You pouted a little, wishing you hadn’t wasted so much. Tech’s cum, for some reason, was just enough of that tangy-sweet flavor with a hint of salt to make you not hate it. Besides, now you’d have to clean yourself off more than you’d normally have to otherwise. Looking down, you smeared a bit over your chest with your slick fingers, sticking them in your mouth.

Tech had slumped over in his chair, getting his breath back.

You crawled up closer to him again, getting his attention. “Are you okay, Tech?” you asked, a little concerned.

Tech looked at you, and his eyes riveted on your mouth, trailing down to your chest. Swallowing thickly, he nodded. “Maker, yes,” he murmured, dragging a hand through his hair.

You smiled up at him. “I’m glad.” Looking back down at yourself, you hummed. “I should go clean up again...”

“Sorry,” Tech blurted.

You looked up, surprised. “F-for what?”

“I— I made a mess...” He glanced down at you. “Didn’t get to warn you.”

You giggled. “It’s okay, Tech. I don’t mind.” You gave him a smile, standing slowly to make sure your knees would get you to the fresher. Scooping up the T-shirt, you headed for the door. “I’ll be back.”

You cleaned up, pulling the T-shirt back over yourself before heading back to the common area. Finding your poor datapad, you picked it up from where you’d dropped it. Tech came up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you, Shiv. I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

You nodded back, giving him a smile. Turning back to your datapad, you decided to resume a bit of work you’d been doing. Taking a break from Wrecker’s gloves, you pulled up a series of footage you’d meant to assess from a recent mission. Hooking up the datapad to the holoscreen, you started to scrutinize the footage.

You’d wanted to see if you could better understand Crosshair’s personal preferences as far as vantage point and strengths went in order to better accommodate for him. Though you did know a few of his tells as a sniper, you still felt a little in the dark when it came to any patterns he had. You wanted to try to see if you could learn anything more, also wanting to see how he handled you as a weapon from an outsider’s perspective. Sometimes, it helped you adjust better.

As usual, you lost yourself in the familiar work and completely lost track of your surroundings. Hands wrapped around your waist, settling on your hips and bringing you out of your focused haze.

“Well, it looks like I found our little kitten doing something interesting,” a voice hummed into your ear, low and smooth.

Color leaped into your face as you gasped, pulled back into his chest. “O-oh, Crosshair...”

One hand anchoring your hip to him, his other hand started to trail up your front. “And what exactly were you doing, Shiv?” he drawled, lazy but not displeased.

You swallowed. “I— I was trying to analyze footage a little more,” you answered, voice pitching a little higher. “I just— I feel like I don’t know your preferences enough, and- and I wanted to see if I could do— do better for you—“

Crosshair’s fingers came up to your neck, tracing the side of your throat down to your shoulder. “Is that right? Don’t you think we should be the ones analyzing you a little more?”

The comment had something.... else to it. An edge that made you pause, tilting your head to look up into his face. Was he upset about something?

A soft sigh blew over your skin, the only way you even knew he’d done it at all. “We stood by and watched as you fought the Guardian and weren’t able to do anything. Didn’t even know you could fight like that. What’s the point in having you be our weapon if we don’t even know anything about you?”

You closed your eyes. “It’s not your fault if I didn’t tell you,” you pointed out quietly. “And I... I should have, I know. That’s on me, not you.”

Cross grunted. “You blame yourself too much,” he grumbled.

You gasped as his teeth sank into the crook of your neck, not hard enough to bruise but definitely enough for you to feel it. Your back arched automatically, though his fingers tightened around your throat and held your head back and neck accessible.

Your eyes squeezed shut as your fingers grappled against his trousers for some sort of stability. Everything seemed to be spinning, Crosshair’s mouth hot against your skin. His hand on your hip pulled you into him, and he ground against your ass in a way that left you squirming on the verge of embarrassment. He chuckled.

“Is my little kitten going to be good for me?” A hint of stubble rasped against your neck, leaving you shuddering.

“Yes,” you whimpered, already trembling. Cross may not have been physically as large or intimidating as Wrecker, but the lithe strength in his arms and the deft confidence of his thin, calloused fingers did something to you that left you utterly weak.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured, voice slick. His hand slid under the oversized T-shirt, trailing up your hip. His fingers hooked on your underwear, playing with the fabric. His mouth moved lazily over the back of your neck as he tilted your head forward a little for access.

“Next time we make a stop, I think we’re going to have go get you some... things, hmm?” he remarked casually, just as his hand twisted.

The underwear snapped, slipping off of your hips and leaving you feeling oddly... vulnerable. You trusted Crosshair with your life, of course. But somehow... you felt so much more self-conscious around him than the others. Maybe it was the way you couldn’t read him as easily as the others? Or just the way he tended to not be as expressive as the others toward you? What was it that made you cherish his affection in such a different way compared to the others?

Crosshair nudged you forward, letting your hands land against the holotable for support. His other hand let go of your hip, only to slide your shirt up over your back before reaching back to unzip his trousers.

“You seemed to enjoy Tech’s experiments,” he noted, fingers sliding around your hip. His fingers spread you open, revealing how slick you were already. “And do you think you can take me too?”

You nodded faintly, then gasped as his cock slid against you. “I don’t think I heard you, kitten,” he drawled.

“Y-yes, I-I can,” you stammered, already shivering. Your body felt hypersensitive, both from your previous session with Tech as well as the way Cross somehow knew exactly how to touch you in every sensitive spot. Had he really observed you that much-?

He slid two fingers into your mouth, letting you suck on them as he kept a vise-like grip on your jaw. The movement was simple, but the way it made you feel so completely controlled, trapped between him and the table, made you go pliant. He handled your body as confidently as he did your Rifle form, tracing over you with a sort of muted reverence that you began to recognize as your memory drew parallels. The confidence was reassuring, as though he were subconsciously saying that you could trust him, that he knew how to handle you expertly, that you could leave it in his capable hands.

You whimpered around his fingers as your mind fully leaned into the reassurance, leaving you open and pliant to him.

“That’s right, Shiv.” Crosshair’s voice slid around you, through you. “Bend over.”

You obeyed almost without thinking, sliding down onto your elbows and then completely collapsing against the table. The cool metal pressed against your cheek, and your eyes fluttered closed as your breath shallowed. Your lips parted in a soft moan as you felt Cross start to slide into you.

For a moment, he only kept the tip in you, letting you flutter around him and adjust. Then he reached down and pulled both of your legs up, pushing them up on the table so you looked like you were in a sitting position, your legs both on one side and pulled against his hip. His fingers wrapped around your ankle like a vise, just as he thrust up into you.

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table as you choked.

It was the first time Cross had actually penetrated you, and it was already about to drive you over the edge. His cock was long, and while not as thick as Tech, it definitely stretched you in different ways. He pressed up inside you in depths you didn’t know were possible. You swore you could taste him in your throat, he was so far inside you.

Bending over you, Cross started to mercilessly fuck up into you, barely giving you a moment to breathe. The way he had your legs together and bent up put a pressure on your clit that spiked every time he bottomed out; and at the pace he’d set, you could feel yourself careening closer to the edge. He grunted, his iron grasp on your hips definitely about to leave bruises littered over your skin.

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling so he could lower his mouth back onto your throat. Every other thrust was punctuated with a sloppy kiss to your neck, a contrast that only made you moan louder. Your body rocked with the brutal pace, and you could swear that Cross was molding you around his cock.

Somewhere in the jumble of your mind, his name managed to slur off of your tongue. You weren’t sure how or why, but your mind was starting to blur and fuzz, focusing solely on the way Crosshair’s body was hunched over yours, his hands controlling you so deftly, taking control over your body, your pleasure. Everything else faded into the background, until all you knew was him, and the way his fingers wrapped around your throat as he fucked you into the table.

You weren’t sure how long you drifted in the haze, but when you managed to focus, you found yourself gazing up into Crosshair’s dark eyes. His thin lips tilted in a smug smile as he noticed.

“Looks like someone’s back.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well then. How about you cum for me, hmm?” a hint of amused indulgence laced his tone. “You want it Shiv, don’t you? To cum all over me like the cock-dumb kitten you are?”

You whined, the pressure around your throat grounding you just enough to keep you present. The pleasure kept flowing through your body like a steady, unrelenting stream, smothering you. You did want it. Wanted to please him.

He leaned closer, not letting up his pace as his hips continued to snap up into you. “Such a good kitten,” he murmured, “with my fingers wrapped around your pretty little throat. Cum for me, Shiv. Show me how good I make you feel.”

It drove you off the cliff. Your orgasm seemed to burst from inside you, rippling up through your veins, your limbs, arching your body. It sent a wave of white heat washing through you, leaving you weak and completely lax in its wake. A sob spilled weakly from your lips as you opened tear-filled eyes to focus on him through the pleasure.

Crosshair let go of your throat, his jaw clenching as he stared down at your face. His hips started to stutter, his chest heaving with breath.

Swallowing thickly, you reached up and traced the tattoo that ringed his eye and trailed down his cheek. ��Please, Cross,” you murmured dreamily. “Please, cum inside me.”

His shoulders locked as he snapped his hips into you one last time. A low groan hissed between his gritted teeth as he came, still buried deep inside you.

The liquid heat pooled inside you, and your eyelashes fluttered with contentment.

Crosshair's breath washed over your ear. "You're ours, Shiv," he murmured, voice husky with the high.

"Yours," you repeated obediently, your fingers tangling in the front of his shirt. Sleepiness plucked heavily at your eyes, the aftermath of three sessions tugging insistently at your consciousness.

"Mmm, fresher first, kitten," Cross chided. His arms slid around you, lifting you up as he slid out of you.

You whined in protest, leaning against his shoulder, even though you knew he was right. Everything was too comfortable, the sleepiness heavy and warm.

"I'll take you to Wrecker's bunk once you're done. Clean up." Cross stayed unmovable, his voice dry as he set you down on your feet in front of the fresher.

But you still clung to his shirt for another moment, looking up at his angled face and dark eyes. A wistfulness flitted through you as you wished that you could stay with him for a little while longer. But you didn't want to ask, didn't want to bother him.

He raised an eyebrow, his hand on your waist steadying your weak legs. "Unless you want to start dripping everywhere, Shiv," he glanced pointedly down at you, "though I wouldn't complain." He smirked.

You swallowed, then looked down. "O-okay," you mumbled, shuffling into the fresher. Even as you sluggishly cleaned yourself though, you had to swallow back a few tears. You weren't entirely sure why, but something in you so desperately craved to be near Cross, to just receive some form of quiet reassurance from him through just a touch or word that he... he cared.

Shaking your head and smearing away the tears, you sucked in a steadying breath and walked back out of the fresher. You'd slowly lost some article of clothing to each of them along the way, so now all you had was the oversized T-shirt. Wobbling back out, you found yourself a bit startled to see Cross still standing there by the doorway, a toothpick clenched between his teeth.

He jacked himself off of the wall and approached you. Bending a little, he picked you up effortlessly and began walking down the hallway of the ship. Ducking into a room, he walked over to the bed.

Wrecker looked up in surprise. "Oh, Cross, Shiv." He grinned. His head tilted as he observed you. "You alright, Shiv?"

You nodded faintly, not trusting your voice not to break. Cross set you down on the bed, while Wrecker shifted over to make room. Then Cross rolled his eyes.

"Move, Wrecker."

"Alright, alright, I'm moving," Wrecker whined, shuffling to the back of his bunk. Lying down next to you, he reached out and gently pulled your back to his chest, wrapping his large arm around your waist. His warmth pressed up behind you, easing some of the pain that curled in your chest.

Then, to your surprise, Crosshair slid into the bunk in front of you. Wordlessly, eyes half-lidded, he scooted closer and ran his hand down your side.

Hesitantly, you squirmed closer, tangling your fingers in the chest of his shirt again. You could feel the warmth of his body under your fingertips, and you bit your lip and glanced up at him tentatively.

Something flickered through his eyes as he gazed down at you, his hand gripping your thigh. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

Your eyes widened, and you immediately shook your head adamantly. "No!" you blurted, your face crumpling despite yourself. "No-" your voice cracked.

Cross sighed, his thumb stroking over your bare skin. "You seem hesitant around me."

Tears welled in your eyes. "No— I-I'm just never sure if... if I'm bothering you, and-" You sniffled, the ache in your chest deepening. "I—I look up to you so much, Cross," you confessed. "Every time you let me Transfer with you and- and I can be near you or with you, I... it makes me feel so safe. I just-" your shoulders hitched, "I want to make you happy, but I feel like... like I never know if it's okay to get close to you. I don't want to bother you..."

Crosshair pulled you closer, tucking your leg up over his hip so you fit against him like a puzzle piece. "You don't bother me, Shiv," he said, voice low. "We've all been... worried about you."

You nodded, pushing your face into his chest. You decided to take the risk and reached out over the Bond, asking for attention. The Bond lit with acknowledgement, more subdued than the others' but still undeniably there. Crosshair's attention was quietly intense, making up for its more subtle nature.

Shyly, you pushed across your feelings. The way you felt safe around him, the way you looked up to his stern concentration of his craft, his diligence in working, his attention to keeping his teammates safe. The way whenever his lithe fingers handled you, whether weapon or body, it soothed and comforted you regardless of what was happening. The way you wanted his approval, his attention.

Cheeks flushing, you peeked up at him from where you'd buried your face into his chest. A hint of a smile crossed his thin lips, and his dark eyes softened as they observed you.

Reaching up, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. "Good girl, cod'ika," he murmured.

Relief burst through you as he accepted your feelings. Even though all you felt over the Bond was a soft pulse of acknowledgement and a hint of pleased affection, it was more than enough. Cross didn't need to say much to make his point, and you realized better than before that every word he spoke to you was deliberate, honest. None of his words even in the heat of pleasure were idle or empty. You clung to the knowledge, soothed with the reassurance that Cross did care, in his own unique way.

"Thank you," you whispered shyly, knowing that he didn't have to reassure you. But he cared enough about you to listen, to answer.

Wrecker grumbled behind you, scooting forward so he pressed more tightly against your back. "Share a little, Cross," he groaned, "Shiv is soft and warm and I wanna feel."

Cross rolled his eyes, the moment broken. "Selfish."

"Hey!" Wrecker protested, leaning his chin against the top of your head. "You're the selfish one here-"

You giggled, tugging at Wrecker's hand to drape over both you and Crosshair. "Let me take a nap, Wrecker, and then I'll let you cuddle more," you promised. Letting out a wide yawn, you snuggled into both of them. "Love you," you murmured sleepily.

"Love you too, Shiv!" Wrecker squeezed you.

"Kar'taylir darasuum, cod'ika," Crosshair murmured in your ear.

You fell asleep to warmth, content.

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fcrmula · 2 years

Note

What do you think about how fandom treats N in general? Is there something about your own portrayal that you're particularly proud of? How are you feeling today?

i forgot to put the prompt link in

i'm putting the answer to the first question under a read more because i have........ opinions.

UMMMM UMMMMMMMM .... i dunno. i think i have a good grasp on how he speaks? he's very easy for me to write in general really... ermm and i have put a lot of thought into him in general. and i do my best to make him feel like a... human? like okay i do have him be a little puppy-like in child verse for shitposts but i do my best to make sure that the fact that n is, no matter what, a human. him being human is an inevitability he can't escape, but also like... i let him be petty and i let him have no qualms getting all covered in dirt and i let him get a little silly sometimes. not just stock infallible prettyboy who is never genuinely awkward or never has Moments Of Stupid. i think i do... an at least Okay job of getting across that he is Only Human After All

unfortunately a little sleepy and brainless </3 been feeling like that a lot lately actually and it's putting... a big damper on not only my writing ability but my ability for one-on-one conversation (harder for me than talking to a general audience like the dash/in a server, for. for some reason) waiting for a package right now so maybe that will heal me when it finally gets here

now we get into. my. opinions................

okay this is about to get extremely salty and you migjt already have guessed what this is about (or possibly already know because you looked at the tags) but: the n is a zoroark theory fucking sucks and i hate it. he is literally so much more interesting as a human who cannot be anything BUT human no matter how hard he tries. fuck your "evidence" here's MY evidence

it makes no logical sense for him to be a zoroark in general because. um. why would he be convinced he's a human. why would he have been disguised as a human while in the woods with no humans around and ANOTHER ZORUA BY HIS SIDE. WHY WOULD ANTHEA AND CONCORDIA TALK ABOUT 5HE REASON FOR HIS ABANDONMENT BEING "HE DISTURBED PEOPLE WITH BEHAVIOR SUGGESTING HE COULD TALK TO POKEMON" WHY WOULD HE CLEARLY STRUGGLE WITH BEING BETWEEN POKEMON AND HUMAN IF HE WAS A POKEMON. HE SPEAKS ABOUT HIMSELF IN A WAY THAT IS DISTANT FROM BOTH POKEMON AND HUMANS BECAUSE HE’S A HUMAN WHO DOESN’T FEEL LIKE A HUMAN. IF HE WAS A POKEMON THERE WOULD BE LITERALLY ZERO CONFLICT...? WHY WOULD GHETSIS NEED TO ADOPT A SPECIFIC ZORUA AND RAISE IT TO ADULTHOOD THEN TELL IT HE'S ASHAMED TO SHARE A SURNAME WITH IT AND WHY IN GOD’S NAME WOULD HE BOTHER MANIPULATING A POKEMON FOR YEARS WHEN HE’S CLEARLY NOT ABOVE FORCING POKEMON TO DO WHAT HE WANTS. WHY WOULD HE EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE N ENOUGH TO CALL HIM A FREAK WITHOUT A HUMAN HEART AND NOT JUST BE LIKE “YOU’RE LITERALLY A POKEMON SHUT UP” IF A TALKING DOG MADE YOU MAD WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD THINK TO CALL IT A FREAK WITHOUT A HUMAN HEART. THE POINT OF THE INSULT IS “YOUR BODY IS HUMAN BUT YOUR HEART ISN’T”. WHY WOULD HE EVEN BOTHER TELLING THE POKEMON HE'S ITS DAD IT WOULD CLEARLY FUCKING KNOW THAT ISN'T TRUE. IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SEEEEENSE

HE IS LITERALLY JUST AUTISTIC. THAT'S IT. HE IS AUTISTIC. DON'T MAKE HIM A NONHUMAN????

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HE IS JUST PLAIN AND SIMPLE SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING AS A HUMAN CHARACTER IN EVERY WAY DOES ANYONE WHO ACTUALLY LIKES AND THINKS A LOT ABOUT N EVEN BELIEVE THSI THEORY BECAUSE I CANNOT FATHOM IT IT GOES AGAINST EVERYTHING INTERESTING ABOUT HIM

............ i have a lot of feelings about that "theory" and all of them are negative. i don't mind aus where he's a pokemon but if you suggest that it's canon i'll go nuts. and don’t come at me with “it’s just a thought/idea” because if you call it a theory then you think it has footing in canon, whether originally intended or not. call it your damn headcanon if you don’t think it’s real but you just like the concept. and sorry if you like that theory but like.... reconsider, maybe? especially because he is so very autismpilled and basically saying "he acts weird because he's secretly NOT A HUMAN" is fucked up. it gets me so viscerally upset i had to skip the entire portion of izzzyzzz's pokemon iceberg video that talked about it ..... other than that i do not touch the fandom at large i don't trust fandoms in general and i especially do not trust them with n my darling n. outside of people i personally know i only trust a select few fanartists/adjacents who Get him. ALSO if anyone especially some rando tries to respond here to talk about that theory and explain why it's Good Actually....... i will simply block them on sight. it’s not a matter of if you believe in it/don’t mind it i just don’t want you trying to convince me it’s real or fine or good i DON’T CARE i don’t want to hear it! and i don’t care if it’s prefaced with “but I’M autistic” well autistic people can have bad taste and you’re one of them get out of my house

#﹙ooc.﹚#﹙asks.﹚#iget seriously unhinged under the readmore like full on angry ranting and i might have gotten a little too mean. just a warning #if you like/genuinely believe the theory that n is a zoroark then. well don't read it if you don't want to possibly have your feelings hurt

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who-is-page · 3 years

Note

We sort of started this discussion at Chimeras' Othercon panel, but I wanted to keep it going so I figured I would send an ask. What do you think it would mean for our community to drop the focus on voluntary and involuntary identities? I agree that we fundamentally should, but a bunch of things immediately jump to mind.

Our community has spent years leaning heavily into the lines between voluntary and involuntary identities and taken special care to make massive distinctions between them, leaving little to no room for grey area. It's no bit surprise that alterhuman spaces have had actual, legitimate, longstanding issues of grilling and gatekeeping. Nonhumans with nuanced and complicated identities are forced to shove themselves into a box to fit into the community, and the ideas we have about certain identities needing to be involuntary are absolutely baked into many aspects of our community and its history.

At the same time, we have used this unjustified gatekeeping in part to protect the community from genuine threats and appropriation of our terminology. The way we have limited our concepts of who is allowed to identify in what ways is generally wrong and has no doubt harmed a subset of kin, but at the same time is understandable in the sense that it has a cause. Yes, this was an issue even before KFF, but KFF certainly don't make it easy to create space for genuine voluntary kin and other voluntary alterhumans.

How do we create the space for nuance and fluidity and complexity in these terms and identities after we have spent so long defensively creating rigid boundaries and restrictions regarding the ways people are allowed to identify? How do we address community gatekeeping while also protecting our community from the people who use our identities and terminology in bad faith?

I have a lot of ideas, but this is obviously a very complex topic that we can't just solve in a day. I was just curious to hear your thoughts, if you had any. Hopefully once our personal website is up one of our first essays will be about this issue. (Also, how is Page? /hj)

So I know we’ve been sitting on this ask for... -checks watch- ...almost two weeks now, but it’s genuinely because I just wasn’t sure how to answer it for a good long while, and I didn’t just want to throw out some haphazard, half-hearted answer to such important questions. So here’s our thoughts on the debacle.

Voluntary and involuntary is a focus I doubt we’ll ever see any of the alterhuman communities permanently drop, for several reasons.

The first and foremost being that, by the definition of the term “alterhuman,” defined here as “a subjective identity which is beyond the scope of what is traditionally considered ‘being human’,” both experiences at their most extremes technically fall underneath the label, rendering the distinction (to some) vitally important to helping understand and define their identity/identity labels. The difference between KFF as an alterhuman identity and forms of otherkinity as an alterhuman identity, for instance, as you mention.

And then there’s the societal factors to consider. People like nice, neat little boxes: people like to be able to compartmentalize their communities, with no overlap, with no spillage, with no complications or grey areas or nuance. It’s a fact of life that people often instinctively want to water down labels and identities into more easily digestible formations, though there are arguments around why people precisely do it. And, as you point out, that often means alterhumans and nonhumans with more complex or nuanced identities typically get shoved into one box or another that they may not perfectly fit into.

When we zero in on specifically the otherkin community, this becomes even more complicated given the community’s rife history: abusive p-shifter groups, the appropriation of language by roleplayers and fiction writers, zoophiles attempting to forcibly associate otherkinity with pro-bestiality movements, and the blatant general misinformation spread by laymen and academics alike, just to name a few relevant problems the community has faced and continues to face. The community is stubborn to a fault, largely because it’s had to be in order to survive. It holds to its preconceived notions and rigid boundaries like a dog with toy aggression to their favorite plush stegosaurus. Fittingly so, really.

So how do we take that stubbornness and change it to be more inclusive to our own? How could we, while still surviving all that onslaught and more? That’s the big question.

In regards to the larger alterhuman community, we’re blessed in the fact that it’s still such a young concept: it hasn’t quite yet had to face the “pathological anger” Religious Studies professor Joseph Laycock has described otherkin as bearing the brunt of. It’s still a community figuring itself out, with much of the anger you find related to it aimed at specific subsets of community within it, rather than at alterhumanity as a whole. And I think the fact that the alterhuman community is still metaphorically air-drying on a table means we have the opportunity to prevent anti-nuance and anti-complexity attitudes from taking hold in it. How we do that is another battle in itself-- I feel like the encouragement of inclusive dialogue, of open discussion intermingled with considerate or civil attitudes, within alterhuman-marketed spaces is a good starting point. I also think that the encouragement and legitimization of “alterhuman” as its own standalone term would be a positive force, where it functions as a broad, diverse identity label in addition to being an overarching, joining umbrella label. A label where someone doesn’t have to give details away of their identity if they don’t feel comfortable doing so, or shove themself into a box they may or may not actually feel they fit into. Something functionally similar to how many people use “queer,” if you will.

But that still leaves aside the issue of identity and terminological misuse, I am aware. And that is...an abstract thing to ward against, at absolute best. I think that the defining of our own spaces not only through our words but also through our actions would perhaps be the best thing we could do, realistically. The cultivation of websites, of group projects--books, zines, comics, pictures, forums, anything!--, of community-led conventions and meet-ups and howls and gatherings. Things which foster and build a community identity of sorts is the best defense against those who would try and distort that which makes us, us.

Zooming back in on the otherkin community, these answers change slightly, because--going back to the clay metaphor--the otherkin community has already metaphorically been glazed and baked (in the fires of hell). That history is cemented, the ways people have wronged it and continue to try and wrong it is cemented, the assumptions and attitudes are cemented.

With the otherkin community, I think that the burden of changing minds and pervasive attitudes falls a bit more onto the shoulders of “community leadership,” because of how the community functions and values both community experience and articulation. There’s a reason we don’t have a term comparable to “greymuzzle” in any of the other alterhuman communities, after all-- it’s a well-known and often aggravating quirk of the otherkin community, to hold certain individuals in such high esteem and put them on a pedestal because of their longevity and the things they’ve done and said. I hate to say that they have to set an example, but in the otherkin community that really is one of the best ways to advocate for change, or to push against those gatekeeping and grilling attitudes--by those who are largely well-respected putting forward ideas that have previously been mocked or disavowed, pushing debates on their legitimacy into community consciousness until it eventually trickles into community normalcy and foundation.

(This is, as you can imagine, a double-edged sword depending on how it’s used. But that’s a discussion for another day.)

That’s not to say that the ideas of creation and creativity with the goal of cultivating an inclusive community identity, like I suggested for the alterhuman community, is inapplicable to the otherkin community: but the otherkin community already has a long-term community identity, so it’d moreso be creation and creativity for the sake of formative inclusion. “History is always written by the winners” is a very, very literal phrase in its application to the otherkin community. Our community memory, for lack of a better way to put it, sucks from individual-to-individual. The future of the otherkin community, its eventual-history, is determined by its historians and creators of today: day-to-day arguments and discussions, unless deemed historically relevant by one archivist or another, disappear to the sands of time, and much more long-term recordings such as essays, websites, comics, etc., often go far beyond just its creators hands and get passed around and down for years, potentially. If you want a more nuanced and inclusive community, you have to dig up the clay for it, shovel by shovel, and bake it yourself, brick by brick, and eventually, with luck, or enough backing prestige, or just because those bricks are so astoundingly solid people can’t resist taking some to build their own foundations to nonhumanity, things will change. It will take time above all else, but once it’s there it will be impossible to remove, because people will just assume those bricks have always been there given enough years.

But those are just some of my thoughts and opinions on it. It’s an issue with so many layers of complexity to it, that there’s really no perfect answer out there that I can offer, and I know even what I’ve shared here has its flaws and drawbacks. I’m sure plenty of my followers also have additional thoughts on the subject, and I’d love to hear from other people what they think in the replies and reblogs.

(Also, Page is a very tired boi.)

#long post #otherkin #alterhuman

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peachy-rambles · 3 years

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more pregnant phil and techno ideas?? its so good

I gotcha ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

But it's really the total opposite of what people assume. A pregnant Phil is a very happy Phil.

---

Most people would expect pregnancy to affect Phil negatively. He's an explorer, an adventurer and warrior. He's chaotic and independent by nature, so it's hard to imagine him settling down for several months and carry a child to term without him complaining or being constantly grumpy/annoyed by it all. Also there's the fact that he's a man, so no one would expect/assume he could even get pregnant. But he very much can. Even so, people would assume he isn't ok with it because he's a man and why would a man ever be comfortable getting pregnant?

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he's been pregnant before, so he knows the ins and outs at this point, or maybe because he's not doing it all alone and has Techno with him, but he's happy. (There was the initial panic he had when he realized he was pregnant, but after talking it out with Techno and deciding what they were going to do, that quickly went away.)

His chaotic energy goes way down when he's pregnant and he becomes fairly docile and soft (some would say...maternal). He's incredibly affectionate, a lot more than he usually is, and he can often be found resting/nesting (there's a good chance he's dragged Techno into his nest for cuddles as well). He does get mood swings, but at most he's upset about something and spends his time sulking in his nest or crying in Techno's arms.

He also gets really horny but we're not gonna get into that one.

Techno loves seeing this side of Phil, especially knowing Phil is content and happy because he's pregnant, and it's with Techno's child. Techno did also kinda panic when Phil told him he was pregnant because Techno didn't think it was possible for them to have a child (which is why they never used protection or contraceptives like idiots) and they hadn't planned for it at all. But one in depth discussion later and a good amount of reassurance from Phil (and Phil taking Techno's hand to place it on his still fairly flat stomach), Techno's panic is replaced with excitement.

Techno is so grateful to Phil, loves him so much and is very attentive of his mates needs/wants. Techno immediately researched about pregnancy and Avians, and Avian pregnancy (Phil is the best source for that of course, but it doesn't hurt to research).

Techno is there for Phil the entire pregnancy and is always willing to cuddle or go get him food (even going out of his way to hunt for food because Techno's instincts have gone into overdrive and told him to do that) or share whatever new books Techno has found on Avian/nonhuman pregnancies (Phil finds this one amusing since they don't really need the books, Phil knows enough by now, but he appreciates Techno's effort and won't stop him).

Now, Techno isn't the best builder (that would be Phil), but he's good at crafting things, so while planning and preparing things for their child, Techno decides he's going to make a crib from scratch.

There are a few failed attempts but finally Techno makes a crib to his standards and more importantly: won't break. He presents it to Phil and he absolutely loves it, tracing the symbol of a blade surrounded by wings on the top of it.

Phil also prepares a lot too and when he isn't sleeping, he's usually seen knitting or sewing and if he has the energy, he'll go out for a walk around their cabin or to the nearby village. Sometimes he'll bring Techno along, sometimes not (Techno was wary to let Phil wander off on his own, but he trusts him enough to let him). He's always careful and never goes far, plus his birds are always around and constantly checking in on him, bugging him when they think he should turn back until he does.

Phil's scent begins to change the further into the pregnancy he's in, becomes more warm and soft, and Techno loves it. Phil himself can't sense it, but Techno can and loves cuddling with Phil in their nest, combining his and Phil's scents, cradling Phil's bump in his hand and purring the entire time.

Techno also might've gotten a little emotional when he felt their baby kick for the first time. He and Phil were in their nest as usual, Phil fast asleep, when Techno felt it and immediately woke up Phil to tell him. And Phil won't admit it but he might've gotten emotional too.

At a certain point, Phil tells Techno their baby can hear them and Techno knows exactly what to do upon receiving that information. He's always enjoyed reading out loud to Phil, but now he gets to read aloud to Phil and their child. It's mostly mythology and fables he tends to read, but sometimes he'll just...talk. Recount some of the adventures he and Phil have gone on, or the times Phil did something stupid (he only tells these stories when Phil is asleep), or when Techno was off on his own and going on adventures. He'll talk about the different worlds he and Phil have seen, the people they've met and the things they've gone through together. And he'll tell their child that he hopes they'll have great adventures too one day, with people who love and appreciate them and treat them like a person.

Techno always ends a story or tale by telling their child how much he already loves them and he can't wait to meet them, and see what kind of person they become.

Late into Phil's pregnancy, Techno does have a moment where he has doubts and wonder if he's worthy enough to be a father or if he'll be a good one, that maybe Phil should've gotten someone else to have a child with. But Phil is quick to chase away those thoughts, pulling Techno into their nest and kissing him, reassuring him that Techno is more than worthy and he doesn't want to have a child with anyone else, he wants to have and raise on with Techno. He wants to have a family with Techno. And possibly, in the future..have even more children. But for now, they'll focus on Phil's current pregnancy and be the best parents they can be for their child.

(Unbeknownst to them, their plan to have more children in the future is already in motion because...Phil is pregnant with twins.)

#techza #technophil #mpreg #trans phil #it isn't stated and tbh he could be trans or intersex or even cis #your choice lmao #but in my head he's trans so i'll tag it as such #asks and replies #peachy said a thing #peachy wrote a thing #kinda

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darksou07 · 3 years

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Otherlink vs Otherkin

I know what it looks like, but that's not what this post is about. I actually want to try to start to stablish the differences between otherkin and otherlink with focus on the origins instead of what can or can't be done. Meaning, this will be a post about whether your nonhumanity/fictional identity is voluntary or involuntary.

While I do not consider myself to be an expert on otherkinity and my own experiences with otherlinking might be or not be the norm, I still believe I could be able to help with some of my observations within the alterhuman community. The thing is, otherlinkers don't truly have a specific narrative and while this could be problematic if it results in elitism, it also means that nobody knows how a typical otherlinking experience is. Thanks to that, it is normal for many inside and outside this group to not know how it is "supposed to be like".

However, this isn't what this post is about. Instead, I will discuss about what it means to have a voluntary and an involuntary alterhuman identity.

Before I go for the actual topic, I will talk about another part of the alterhuman community that I used to be part of: plurals. The reason why I'm doing this is because plurals have those that were born or had traumatic experiences that resulted in them becoming more than one person inside their body whether they liked it or not. This can and usually does cause many issues for these types of systems, but with a lot of work they can become more functional and able to have a good relationship between them. These are usually called endogenic and traumagenic systems.

Then, we have those who cause their own plurality usually by roleplaying, creating stories, acting and sometimes because they truly wanted to have another person sharing their brain for whatever reason. While it is very possible for them to acquire toxic relationships inside them, this is far more uncommon because they tend to be prepared for their new headmate and actually want them to be there with them. They're called the parogenic systems.

As you can see, having the presence of voluntary/involuntary alterhuman experiences is nothing new and it doesn't make any of these experiences invalid. The headmates within traumagenic systems are as real as the ones in endogenic systems and also as much of living beings as the people living in the parogenic systems. All of them are alive and must be respected as people with thoughts, feelings, dreams, history... No matter how or why they came to exist.

Similarly, otherlinkers and otherkin/fictionkin must acknowledge who they are as real. How they came to be is irrelevant in this aspect, except for the kinds of help their communities will be able to provide.

While we don't have a clear understanding of what otherlinkers need, we know that this division is very useful for plurals. Traumagenic systems need a lot of help to deal with triggers, life stressors and their own headmates along with many other things I don't even know about. Endogenics might need some of these, but mostly to be acknowledged for who each one of them are. Parogenics actually need help on how to become plurals (which isn't something that traumagenics/endogenics have to do to become plural, they just are) and how to make sure their relationship isn't causing harm for themselves and the new person/people they are creating.

As you can see, even if all of them are composed of headmates that must be respected as real people, their needs are very different. Some of them want help to adjust to their current state of being while others want to experience the change of being singlet to being plural and to do so in a healthy way. They have the expectation that this will be a positive experience for their lives, so it is no wonder some traumagenic systems do get upset over their existence. How could plurality, a source of pain and problems, become something good for someone else?

This issue usually happens because an individual thinks that plurality = DID/OSDD and actively ignore other ways to exist as more than one person in the body which isn't always classifiable as a disorder. Similarly, we see a lot of discussion on otherkinity and about whether one can become nonhuman. The issue I see here is that many alterhumans have the misconception that one can only be nonhuman if they are otherkin. I'm here to say that this isn't true. One can become nonhuman if they are otherlinkers.

Yes, I said it. A person can become nonhuman. That's what it means to be an otherlinker. You become nonhuman.

Now, how do I know if I was always nonhuman or if I decided to become nonhuman? (Also applies to fictional identities.) This one isn't easy to determine and it might not even be too useful for you. I'd recommend going for otherkin communities if your goal is to get to know yourself as nonhuman and to otherlink communities (that actually needs more members) if your plan is to learn how to experience nonhumanity or if you want to become nonhuman.

However, if that still doesn't satisfy you, I will give a few tips on how to determine if you're experiencing something voluntary or involuntary. You are more than welcome to disagree and to give your own advice on the matter.

1. I used to experience lots of shifts in my life, had past life memories that couldn't be fully explained with my lived experiences, I have body dysphoria related to my identity and/or don't identify as human. However, I chose to call myself [insert identity here]. Am I an otherlinker because I could have chosen not to pay attention to all of that?

Alright, so you're telling me that you had been experiencing nonhumanity since way before you started to identify as an otherlinker and you didn't have much of an choice on that matter? I'd suggest spending some time with otherkin and sharing with them your experiences. Whether it is something voluntary or not, I cannot tell you. You're the one experiencing that, but what you described is a very common thing for otherkin and I believe it would be worth checking this out.

2. I used my fond memories of the past and/or induced shifts to deal with my life circumstances. Does that mean I'm a copinglinker?

Maybe. Did you always had these memories and shifts before you needed to cope with that? If you can tell for sure that you did not, there is the possibility that you are otherkin and using a pleasant part of yourself in order to deal with life. However, if you can't, you could very well be a copinglinker. Don't worry, otherlinkers also can experience memories and shifts.

3. I identify as an OC I created. Am I an otherlinker?

It's kind of a chicken or egg situation here. Did you start to identify as this OC after you created them? If so, was it something you decided to do or was it something that happened naturally? Also, what was your inspiration to create this OC? Were you experiencing very vivid images that seemed to belong to a past far away? Have you been feeling disconnected from your body and this OC's appears to match better as to how you were supposed to look? Were you inspired by something external or internal?

Anyway, these examples I stated were some that I have observed and that appeared to be more involuntary than voluntary in my point of view. While I cannot say for sure if they are otherlinkers or not, I can definitely say that they could benefit from otherkin knowledge. This isn't to say otherlinking wouldn't be useful for them, it's just that there are some signs of involuntarity that I believe to be worth checking.

If there are other examples you can think of and your fingers are itching to type about how it isn't that easy to determine if an identity is voluntary or not, then I probably reached where I wanted to go. It isn't easy to figure out if your identity is voluntary or not and it can be useless to do so. Because of that, it is my belief that it would be more useful if you tried to figure out why you want to be part of one or the other community. What are you looking for?

You see, even the parogenic systems have stories about accidental headmate creation and they're still fit for their label because they did become plural due to their own decisions. Why wouldn't there be cases of otherlinkers accidentally creating their own identities? Or why wouldn't some otherkin experience some degree of a choice in how they deal with their own nonhumanity?

It isn't my intention to blur the lines of what it means to be otherkin and otherlinker. I just wanted to let you know of two things: (1) otherkin and otherlinkers are nonhuman. (2) Figuring out what you want to do with your identity is more useful than trying to fit on either community.

I decided to create this post mostly due to some discussion I've seen on whether being otherkin can come from a choice and... Well, this is my opinion. You can be nonhuman and not call yourself otherkin. Simple as that.

#copinglink #copinglinker #c'link #coping link #othervague #otherlinker #otherlink #otherkin #fictionkin

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dragonheart-swtor · 3 years

Text

Sith Inquisitor Storyline: Drunk History Version

Y’all, and by y’all I mean one person (@sith-shenanigans thank you very much), asked for it, and I live to repeat this over and over for others’ amusement, so here it is. Have my summary of the pinball machine that is the Sith Inquisitor storyline, from memory, originally drafted a while back in DMs with a friend who’s never played SWTOR. Spoilers for the Sith Inquisitor storyline, obviously.

Without further ado: Let us begin.

- So your story begins as a recently sort-of-freed slave walking off a ship and onto Hell: The Planet. (The nonhuman Inquisitor immediately experiences 2483947 microaggressions.)

- You have to compete with a bunch of other people! Only one of you is not going to die and the overseer has already picked his favorite, seemingly purely because he happens to have red skin. They will both (the overseer and Teacher’s Pet) proceed to be as annoying as possible for the rest of the Korriban story.

- multiple people try to kill you, but you’re the protagonist, so fuck them

- “Teacher’s Pet, you go to the library and translate these texts. Protagonist, you go to this ancient tomb and figure out how to retrieve an artifact from a lock that no one has been able to open in ten thousand years.” “Libraries are boring anyway. Yawn.”

- You finally get to smackdown with Teacher’s Pet, which is satisfying as hell. Unfortunately the overseer gets pissy about it. Fortunately, the Sith you’ve been competing to be the apprentice of decided she liked you early on and has also been playing favorites, so you don’t die immediately.

- your master is great! much more into positive reinforcement than most Sith.

- at some point you semi-accidentally steal someone else's cult on Nar Shaddaa and now they worship you as a nigh-on god. whoops. you just kind of... leave and let them run their own business. you pay them visits later in the storyline.

- you also become part bug so you can go skinny dipping in radioactive waste. it’s fine, we promise.

- your master is trying to steal your body because turns out she's actually really old and kind of dying so she plans on kicking you out of your body, transplanting her own soul in your place, killing her old body, and assuming your identity after "you" "killed" "your master"! that's not great, better not let her do that.

- you successfully didn't let her do that! wait, now she's sharing a body with one of your companions, an ancient monster who you kind of forced into submission and who serves you rather unwillingly now. there is apparently nothing that can be done about this so sometimes your eight-foot-tall monster not-friend talks in a high, unnervingly smooth feminine voice and tries to convince you she's on your side now that she's forced by this new body to not harm you. this is also not great but what are you gonna do. he is also Not Pleased about this by the way, and really who can blame him.

- some darth on the dark council named Thanaton decides to get pissy with you for reasons I don't remember and now he's trying to kill you. what the fuck.

- he actually almost does kill you but your old master's other apprentices, who are now your apprentices, save you from the brink of death.

- (the apprentices, by the way, are very sweet and I love them. they’re murdered by thanaton almost immediately.)

- your solution to "I need more power, fast", for some godforsaken reason, is "I'm going to learn to walk the line between life and death and EAT GHOSTS" and I wish I were exaggerating this

- you go out and eat a bunch of ghosts of old Sith on various planets

- subpoint to this: on one of these planets, you accomplish this by coercing the ghost's descendant, a Jedi padawan named Ashara, to get the ghost to appear so you can eat him. You end up murdering her masters in the process because one way or another they find out about your plan. She is understandably horrified by this turn of events and, feeling she has no chance of returning to the Jedi, reluctantly joins your crew and either (Light Side Quizzy) learns to balance light and dark sides of the Force and becomes ultimately stronger for it, or (Dark Side Quizzy) lives in abject terror of you for the rest of the storyline. I love her dearly as well. fortunately she is not murdered by thanaton.

- congrats! you ate enough ghosts to have enough power to beat thanaton up!

- unfortunately, you have Ate Too Many Ghosts Disease now and need immediate medical attention.

- your mind kind of just Shatters and you may or may not have hallucinations for a while iirc. either way you need help or you're just gonna disintegrate slowly until the ghosts overwhelm you and take over. you go to Voss and participate in some wild Force ritual they've got to take care of that. it's a fun time

- your body is also having a bad time and that also needs fixing; I don't remember where you go for this (Belsavis, I think?) but you end up checking out a machine made by a long-dead alien civilization and the machine turns out to a) be sentient and b) be responsible for CREATING A GOOD PORTION OF THE GALAXY'S NEAR-HUMAN SPECIES, IF NOT ALL OF THEM, AND DISSEMINATING THEM TO THE GALAXY AS PART OF THE RAKATA'S EXPERIMENTS ON CREATING FORCE-SENSITIVE LIFEFORMS IN HOPES OF KEEPING THEIR OWN SPECIES FROM DYING OUT BECAUSE THEY WERE SUPER RACIST AND EVENTUALLY THAT RACISM KICKED THEM IN THE ASS IN THE FORM OF A MASS REVOLUTION THAT WIPED THEM OUT COMPLETELY BUT THE MACHINE IS STILL HERE

- all right I’m calm sorry I derailed for a moment

- I have a lot of thoughts about things

- anyway the machine bUILDS YOU A NEW FUCKING BODY and you're good to go now

- (by the way, depending what species you're playing, it's entirely possible you learn at this point that your entire species only exists because of this machine!)

- (anyway.)

- okay, mind fixed, body fixed, ghosts consumed, we're good to go! time to murder a dark councilor!

- "we do that"

- except you don't because you're on corellia and this dipshit challenges you to a kaggath without really ever explaining in detail what a kaggath is or what the rules (if any) are, we just know it seems to be the ancient and very formal Sith way of saying "meet me in the denny's parking lot at 3am if you want an ass-kicking", and then hE RUNS OFF TO DROMUND KAAS WHICH DEPENDING ON WHAT GALAXY MAP YOU BELIEVE IS UP TO FIVE DAYS' TRAVEL AWAY

- YOU'RE CANONICALLY JUST CHASING THIS LITTLE BITCH THROUGH SPACE FOR FIVE DAYS AFTER HE CHALLENGED YOU

- he then goes to the Dark Council to try to convince them to help him kill you and you literally have to just go to the Dark Council chambers too and kick in the door and go "HEARD YOU WERE TALKIN SHIT" in front of everyone

- (which to be fair is basically Sith philosophy in a nutshell)

- Ravage and Marr spend this entire council meeting just exchanging tired glances and going "no, fuck you, why can't you kill them, they're your problem. fight for our entertainment now. fuck you"

- (Darth Baras did this exact same shit earlier the same day, by the way, with the Sith Warrior. and by “earlier the same day” I mean “like fifteen minutes prior to this.”)

- you fight Thanaton. to no one's surprise, because you're the protagonist and because he's being a little bitch about it, you kick his ass and slaughter him in front of everyone

- half the Council stands up and you just kind of go "oh shit I'm gonna die"

- but no

- you're being promoted

- congration you done it you're a dark councilor now

- someone complains because wait, they're not even a darth, you can't be a dark councilor if you're not even a darth

- first person responds with "well fuck you then, we'll make them a darth. hey you. your name is Darth Nox (dark side)/Imperius (light side)/Occulus (neutral) now. take a seat"

- "but - what?"

- "take a fuckin seat, babe"

- "o- okay"

- "you run the entire Ancient Knowledge sector now, by the way, despite the fact that you may or may not be illiterate due to having been raised a slave, because that was what Thanaton ran and we only have the one job opening since the Warrior just killed Baras"

- (the Warrior, freshly coined the Emperor's Wrath officially, waves from their corner where they're cleaning Baras's blood off their boots)

- "I - okay, I guess"

and that’s the Sith Inquisitor storyline. That’s a wrap, folks, roll credits. if this gets enough notes and/or if literally anyone says they’d like to see it I may also post the Imperial Agent and/or do other class stories, I enjoy these way too much

#i should put this through a star wars scrolling text maker #do they have those? i can't imagine there's not one out there #swtor #sith inquisitor #drunk history swtor

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a-dragons-journal · 3 years

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i dont "kin for fun" but through tiktok i found out about the whole kin for fun vs actual otherkin... situation ig? im having a really hard time taking it seriously... maybe im just burnt out and bitter from dealing with the worlds current events, and maybe its because on tiktok the only people i saw mad about it were white people, but you're the most reasonable person ive seen talking about it (a lot of other posts have this odd tone that 12 year olds on tiktok saying kin is the worlds greatest opression and it weirds me out) so ig my question is just... why exactly does this matter? why does it matter enough to post about and care about and not just ignore? /gen

Hey! I don’t blame you for being a bit weirded out by it, we’re a weird subculture and we’re well aware of it! xD I appreciate you taking the time to actually look into it past your first knee-jerk reaction, especially considering burnout and the state of things.

I’m not totally sure if you’re asking why otherkinity matters or why the “kin for fun” being wrong matters, so I’ll answer both - they’re pretty well tied together anyway.

The short version:

Otherkinity is an identity. It’s who we are, we can’t choose to pick it up or put it down, and it comes with struggles - though no, ‘kin are not systematically oppressed (though we are pretty badly bullied and, at this point, pushed out of our own words and spaces).

What people calling roleplay/relating to/projecting onto characters “kinning for fun” does is steal our words, make them meaningless, and in doing so, make it difficult or impossible for us to find each other. If someone says “I kin [x],” I no longer know whether they mean “I am [x] on an intrinsic level” or “haha I relate to this character a lot”. I no longer know whether they actually share my experiences or if they’re going to turn on me and call me “crazy” as soon as they realize I’m not exaggerating or joking or roleplaying. It’s done massive harm to the community as a whole because it’s become difficult to tell whether someone is actually ‘kin or if they’ve misunderstood the whole thing - and because antikin rhetoric, which I’m seeing more and more in KFF spaces, hurts far more when it’s coming from inside what you thought was a community space than when it’s coming from self-labeled “antikin.”

There are other words for roleplaying and relating to and projecting onto characters. Hell, there are words for strongly identifying with-but-not-as characters/things, though usually KFF people don’t even seem serious enough for those to fit in my experience. I’m really not sure why these people are so determined to steal and misuse our words, words that were specifically created to mean something else, when they already have their own and are just refusing to use them. (Or, hell, if you don’t feel like those fit, make your own. We did. It’s your turn to put in the work. (General you, not you-the-anon, of course.))

An analogy, if that still doesn’t quite land for you:

Consider, for a moment, the transgender community. I am aware this is a dangerous thing to say, but bear with me. Obvious CW for hypothetical transphobia up ahead is obvious.

Consider if you were part of the trans community (I don’t know if you are or not), having finally found a word to explain why you feel the way you do about yourself, why your experiences don’t seem to match up with those of everyone else around you. Having found a community, a home, full of other people like you, people you never would have met if not for words like “transgender” and “gender dysphoria/euphoria” that were created specifically to describe your experiences.

Now consider if people suddenly stumbled across your community for the first time who were not trans themselves. They see community jokes and lighthearted posts out of context, because Tumblr and Twitter aren’t exactly conducive to making sure people find the Transgender 101 information posts first. They don’t bother to do further research, assuming they understand: ah, these people like to crossdress! They like to pretend they’re a different gender! This seems like a fun hobby, I want in!

They begin to post things like this. They post photos of them crossdressing and caption them “hi, I’m [name], and I trans men!” and things of the like. Suddenly the concept of “transing for fun” seems to be everywhere - and it’s not at all what being trans actually is, but these people either don’t know or don’t care. When actual trans people try to politely correct them, they’re accused of “gatekeeping” - and to be clear, this is not “nonbinary people aren’t real,” it’s “transgender means you identify as a gender other than the one you were assigned at birth, and you’re self-identifying as the gender you were assigned at birth 100% and telling us this is just a fun hobby for you, therefore you’re not trans, you’re crossdressing or doing drag or being GNC. That’s fine, but it’s not being trans - you have other words to describe that, use those.”

(Yes, I am aware these things have a history with the trans community - please just ignore that for the sake of the analogy and bear with me on the slightly simplified version of this. “Kinning for fun” does not have that same history with the otherkin community.)

...And then the response to those attempted corrections, in some corners, turns into “wait, you ACTUALLY think you’re another gender? idk that sounds pretty unhealthy, maybe you should see a psychologist or something :\” and “you’re taking this too seriously.”

I imagine, in this hypothetical scenario, you’d also be pretty fuckin peeved.

(Obviously, in this hypothetical scenario, systematic transphobia would be an issue as well, which isn’t the case for otherkin - again, you’re gonna have to bear with me on the simplification for sake of analogy there.)

(EDIT: this is not an anti-MOGAI/exclusionist argument, this is “you’re literally telling me you don’t fit the definition,” explanation on that here)

The long version, which is probably still worth reading if you have the time and energy:

Otherkinity is... pretty core to who I am, who we as a group of individuals are. We live with being otherkin on a daily basis. Many of us spent a long time feeling different and disconnected and not understanding why until we found the otherkin community. Even people like me, who don’t share that experience and still had social connection - I’ve still had to live with weird differences that I had to learn to mask when necessary; instincts that don’t line up with human society well, feeling body parts that weren’t there and that no one else ever seemed to have, things that other kids grew out of because it was just make-believe for them and I... didn’t, because it was never make-believe for me to begin with. Oh, sure, I played make-believe too - I played warrior cats and house and all those things with the other kids, but there were things that weren’t play-pretend for me too. I didn’t have an explanation for it for a long time - it was just how I was, I was weird, and fortunately for me personally I was okay with that (many of those with species dysphoria or more trouble connecting with humans have more problems from that than I did).

And then I found the word “otherkin.” And suddenly everything fell into place, and I had an explanation for the things I’d been experiencing, and there were other people like me. Something I’d assumed didn’t exist. I found others who shared my unique experiences, who were talking about how to cope with the instinct to growl or snap jaws at people instead of expressing annoyance in a human way instead of just saying “that’s weird, don’t do that”, who were talking about dealing with phantom wings and tails, who understood me. I wasn’t weird, I wasn’t broken, I was exactly what one would expect from a dragon living in human skin. I found an explanation for myself. I found a home.

That is why otherkinity matters - it is who we are, it’s not something we can walk away from (certainly not most of us, anyway), and it’s something many of us need the support of the community to help deal with on a daily basis. Being a nonhuman in human society isn’t always easy, but it’s not something we can just magically stop being - it’s core to who we are, we (generally) didn’t choose to be this way, and we (generally) can’t choose to stop. Which is fine - the vast majority of us can cope with it just fine, with a little advice and help and space to be our authentic selves in. We found each other, we built this community from the ground up to make a space and words to make finding each other easier - or possible at all.

Thus we come to the second half of our story.

It was only a couple of years ago that the “kin for fun” trend started getting big. It had existed before that, of course, but it only started going mainstream two, maybe three years ago, from what I can tell. Suddenly people were treating “kin” like it meant relating to, projecting onto, roleplaying as, or just really really liking a character or thing - not being that thing, which is what it actually means. Not long after that, it became hard to tell whether someone saying “I kin this” meant they were that thing, that they were actually part of our community - or that they really really liked that thing and either didn’t know or couldn’t be bothered to learn that that wasn’t the case for us.

Not long after that, it became relatively commonplace to hear phrases like “otherkin are ruining kinning!!” and “you’re taking this too seriously” and “idk, if it’s that serious for you that sounds unhealthy. maybe you should get some help :\” (all directly quoted, or as exactly quoted as I can remember, from things KFF people have said to me or people I know).

It is a special kind of hell, I think, to be told “you’re taking this too seriously, that’s unhealthy” by people who are taking words created to describe your experiences, not theirs, and misusing them to mean something that you do for fun on a weekend instead of something that’s intrinsic to your being.

Perhaps more importantly, like I’ve said, it’s making it almost impossible to know whether someone who says “I kin [x]” is actually ‘kin or if they’re misusing our words to mean something else entirely. The entire point of words is to communicate ideas, and once you start misusing words to mean something totally different than what they actually mean, that communication falls apart and suddenly we might as well not have those words at all. Especially when the community is small enough and obscure enough that we’re starting to be outnumbered by the misinformation. We’re being run out of our own words, words we created to describe our experiences specifically - because we’re a small community that the wider internet can easily drown out by sheer numbers of people who either don’t know any better or don’t care to learn.

That’s the harm it does - the harm it is doing, right now. That’s why it’s important enough to post about. That’s why it matters - because we’re fighting desperately to hang onto our own words so that others like us can actually find us. Because we’re seeing young nonhumans go “this isn’t a kin, I actually am this” and screaming “No, I’m so sorry that this is what the misinformation has done to you, that’s exactly what otherkin means, you have a place here, please don’t let these non-’kin misusing our words drive you away from the very community you’re looking for and that you belong in.” Because we can’t even communicate effectively about our own experiences anymore except in semi-closed spaces like Discord servers and forums (and the number of Discord servers overrun with KFF people is absurd).

......This got very long. Hopefully it at least explained why it matters so much to me and others a bit better ^^; Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you again for looking into this beyond your initial knee-jerk reaction - I really do appreciate it.

(For further reading, if that text wall didn’t blow you out of the water completely, I recommend my “kin for fun” tag, which has more posts like this in both short and long form.)

#probably should've put this under a cut but oh well #otherkin #kin for fun #kinnie #kinning #rani talks #asked and answered #anonymous #rani talks A LOT apparently sbfldkngjlksdf #i have a lot of feelings on this #long post

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deactivated-20220808 · 3 years

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The Community Doesn’t Treat Introjects Like People, And As An Introject, I’m Tired Of It.

Hello all.

Technically not Remy here, but on some level, still Remy, and oh boy do I have a scalding hot take.

Almost /nobody/ in the community online treats fictives with any sort of humanity, dignity or respect.

One of THE biggest issues in the online system and plural communities is the fetishization of introjects, i.e. fictives/factives/etc, but particularly fictives and factives. This is something that happens on ALL sides of the community, it happens with pro-endos, anti-endos, DIDOSDD1 systems, parogenics, endogenics, all of us alike. Origin is irrelevant when fictives and introjects are involved.

In the community, there is a huge expectation for how fictives and factives are supposed to operate:

Introjects are always fictives or factives of comfort media/characters/creators/etc, and never of people you know IRL and especially never the collective’s abusers

You must have a deep connection to your source

You must have “source memories”/pseudomemories (the medical term)

You must always have “source trauma”/“exotrauma” related to your source

You must generally follow headcannons involved in the fandom or headcannons that your collective holds

You must actively seek out source content that suits you/your canon

You must miss your sourcemates and make “canon calls”/“source calls”

Being separated from your source always causes severe distress and discomfort

You must always split with no knowledge of the system or where you are now

Every time you watch a new media, you must split new introjects from it

You must always be fully 3D alters and never fragments

You must never grow past your source or become your own person, and must always be treated like your source

There are more, but these are the big expectations and stereotypes that I can think of off the top of my head.

Now, disclaimer here, I am not the Remy that generally posts on this blog, I am the co-host of the system. You should still call me/us Remy, I’m just specifying, because the Remy that generally posts here is not an introject, whereas I am and thus I feel more qualified to talk about my experiences being an introject that doesn’t fit any community expectations, standards and stereotypes, and how that alienates me from other introjects/fictives/factives/etc. I’m also going to be speaking mainly from the perspective of an alter in a DID system, and mainly talking about DID systems and introjects/fictives/factives/etc in DID systems, since I don’t feel comfortable speaking on the experiences of plurals that are non-traumagenic and non-dissociative.

I am an introject of multiple sources, 2 specific ones in fact: A fictional character, and our abusive stepfather.

I don’t have pseudomemories/“source memories” from either ‘source’. I don’t have memories of ‘being’ the fictional character I’m introjected from, and I don’t have memories of abusing my family. I just hold the appearance and some traits of said fictional character, in combination with traits and behaviors related to our stepfather. I didn’t start off as an introject of the fictional character, either. I started off as a fragment from childhood that held memories, emotions and traits related to our stepfather, and only recently, as of this year, did I actually become aware of myself during a traumatic event that I now hold the memories of. Because of that traumatic event, I started becoming more “3D” as it were, and part of that was latching onto the identity and appearance of a fictional character that displays prevalent anger issues and has frequent angry outbursts, something that is related to the traumatic event that caused me to become aware, as well as something that is related to our stepfather’s behavior. This character was also abused very similarly to how we were abused, making the connection and reasons for latching onto this identity stronger and more obvious, but in spite of this, I don’t have memories of being abused by ‘my’ parents in my source.

I only know that I’m an introject of that fictional character because of my appearance, and I know that I’m an introject of our stepfather because I share many, many traits with him, but I don’t have “source memories”/“pseudomemories” or any real deep attachment to my “sources”. In that same vein, I also don’t have “source trauma”. I don’t follow headcannons that people/Remy (host) has for the character I’m based off of. I don’t seek out source content very much because I don’t have a connection to my sources. I engage with it casually as in drawing fanart for the characters, but that is mostly to spread our artwork and to get commissions as my fictional source is a popular show. I don’t miss ‘sourcemates’, I don’t have any. I came into awareness knowing about the system, knowing who I was, knowing where I was, and knowing our general life situation, I didn’t come from nothing, (no alters come from nothing, they come from your subconscious, so they’re more likely to know what’s going on than they are to not).

I don’t share many traits with many of the other introjects in the communities because of this. I hate being treated like or compared to my source(s), so I don’t generally tell people I’m an introject at all. I changed my name, my appearance (relatively) and did as much detachment from my source as possible because trying to stay connected to it was exhausting. I constantly struggle with lines of thought like “[source character] wouldn’t act like this, you’re fake”. I actively tried to come up with ‘source memories’ so I could fit in with the other introjects, and it never worked or felt right because I wasn’t supposed to have any because I didn’t need any, even if the character I’m based on experienced a very similar abuse to what we experienced bodily.

Because of this, I feel extremely alienated from the system/plural communities online, because I don’t see many other introjects like me at all. I just see the community expectations of introjects, and I’m half inclined to believe that some introjects are exaggerating certain things about themselves to fit in, much like I tried to. What really doesn’t help is the fact that people treat introjects like a commodity, like something cool to have when we’re not. We’re just alters based heavily and obviously off of outside sources. That’s it. Introjects are always expected to tell people they’re introjects, we’re expected to flaunt our introject status as if it were an alter’s role within the system, which doesn’t make sense, because “introject” is not a role, its a type of alter, such as a ‘nonhuman alter’ or a ‘child alter’/‘little’. These aren’t roles, they’re alter types and there’s a huge difference. My role is not ‘introject’, it’s ‘co-host’ and ‘alter that keeps everyone’s shit together by keeping us on track’, and yet, here we are, parading around acting like ‘introject’, ‘fictive’, ‘factive’, ‘fuzztive’, etc, are all alter roles and not descriptors.

I don’t understand people’s apparent need to let everyone know that a certain alter is an introject, or how attached to ‘source’ they are, or the need to tell people you’re ‘introject heavy’, considering the fact that not only is this all personal information, it very obviously affects how people view and treat your system. People don’t treat introjects normally, they always come up to us, whether they’re singlets or systems or plural or whatever, and say shit like “you’re problematic for being an introject of x character/person/etc”, or “i love your source!” or “your source is triggering to me, don’t front around me”, or “why did you do x thing in your source?”, as if we’re expected to know what to say to that, or like we’re supposed to go “oh yes i know, i’m sorry for existing”, or “thanks for liking my source I guess??”, or “yeah sorry you obviously have the right to control who does and doesn’t front within our system and have the right to take away an alter’s autonomy just for us to exist around you collectively” or forcing us to explain why our source characters have done certain things, whether we have source memories surrounding those events or not.

The facts are: No one outside your collective is entitled to know you’re an introject. No one outside your collective is entitled to say who is and isn’t allowed to front. No one outside your collective is entitled to speak about your source with you. No one outside your collective is entitled to ask you invasive questions about your source and things “you” did in source, whether you remember them or not.

Another thing, people always talk about an introject’s source character/person/etc as if that introject is literally that character, and people don’t see how incredibly harmful this is? You don’t see how incredibly damaging it can be to tell an introject that they are literally that character, and reinforce dissociation between your alters by implying that everything they did and went through is real, by referring to them as that fictional character they’re based on? Because while it may hurt some alters to hear this, no, what you went through is not real or something that actually happened, that’s why the clinical term for ‘source memories’ is ‘pseudomemories’. Your source memories are based off of a combination of a very dissociated consciousness’s way of trying to conceptualize trauma, trying to make sense of everything by ‘filling in the gaps’, and a fictional piece of media/events that you did not go through bodily. It is not a ‘reality check’ to say this for several reasons, mainly because that is a term relating to psychosis/delusions.

It sucks for some alters to hear this at first, but your source memories did not literally happen, and the sooner we let go of this expectation of having detailed ‘source memories’ and ‘source trauma’, and the idea that we constantly have to reaffirm that these memories are ‘real’, the sooner and easier it will be to let go of a lot of these memories and trauma, and to start connecting/integrating* with your system.

(Note: I am not using “integrate” (lowering of dissociative barriers between alters, increasing communication, etc), to mean “fuse” (the merging of two or more alters into one), the two are very different and have very different meanings. Integration is required for healing in DIDOSDD1, but fusion is not.)

I’m not saying source memories or your feelings surrounding these memories (if you have them) aren’t valid, ‘source memories’ are normal to have in both introjects and non-introjects. I’m saying that these events did not literally happen to the body or to you. Most often, source memories are a way of processing and conceptualizing trauma that the body experienced in a way where the brain can think about it, but not have to attribute the trauma to something that happened to them, (ie it’s the brain saying ‘this trauma happened to this fictional character, not to me!’). Introjects are alters heavily and obviously /based off of/ an outside source, they are not, nor were they ever, the characters they are built around. They are and have always been, (in DID), dissociated aspects of a heavily traumatized and hypercompartmentilized consciousness. The implication that introjects were, at some point, the fictional characters they were based on, but /now/ they’re alters in a system, is extremely unhealthy and reinforces substitute beliefs that keep a system from functioning and integrating healthily.

I almost feel bad for other introjects in other systems/collectives, because even their own systems/collectives will treat them this way, and it only does damage in the long run. Most, if not all, introjects are at some point going to have to come to the conclusion that they aren’t and were never literally their sources, that the things they remember happening, while valid experiences, did not literally happen, and that they are allowed to grow past their sources and become their own people, that they don’t constantly have to perform as the characters/people/things that they are based off of. You don’t eventually /have/ to be 100% detached from your source like I am to be valid or whatever, I’m saying that if your existence as an introject is distressing to you, you are allowed to forfeit that identity and build yourself a new one. If it’s hurting you, you don’t have to go by your source name or dress like your source or act like your source or use images from/related to your source for your profile pictures or even tell people that you’re an introject/what your source is. You literally do not have to. I know the community encourages people to tell everyone everything about their system, specifically as a validity thing as well as pressure to be like other systems since everyone else is doing it, but you don’t have to do that at all. It is no one’s business if you don’t want it to be.

To everyone that has introjects or interacts with them:

Stop pushing these expectations onto introjects. Stop expecting introjects to have source memories. Stop expecting introjects to fit your headcannons every single time you split a new one. Stop suggesting that they were at some point literally that character/person/etc that they are based on. Stop parading around the fact that your introjects are introjects without their permission. Stop telling other people private things about your alters without their permission, actually, this just happens to be an issue that is especially prevalent with introjects. Stop forcing the idea that introjects are always heavily connected to their sources. Stop forcing your introjects into the box of “introject” and let us become our own people outside of what we’re based on if we want to be.

You may not realize this, but in DIDOSDD1, everything that happens in your system is based on your subconscious thoughts/views whether you are aware of these thoughts/views or not. Everything about your subconscious affects your entire system because you are all in the same brain and are all part of the same subconscious, whether you want to believe it or not. The way you view your introjects subconsciously is going to affect how your introjects split and how they behave, because everything down to what introjects you split, how they behave and how they interact with the rest of the system are determined by your subconscious thoughts/views of that source character/person they’re based on, the trauma/stress you experienced when they split, and your subconscious views of introjects, alters and your system as a whole. The less you view your introjects as people/individuals with their own thoughts/feelings/autonomy, the more that is going to affect how they behave, how they view themselves, (and it’s usually going to to be dehumanizing themselves because of this treatment), as well as how they integrate with the rest of the system, (ie usually by preventing or slowing down healing and integration).

This community needs to learn how to treat introjects with basic humanity and respect. We are just as deserving of respect and dignity as any other system member. I’m not the character/person I was based off of. I’m just me. The same goes for every other introject out there. I’m sorry if this is hard to hear or too ‘hot’ of a take, but I am so tired of (my alter type) being dehumanized by a community that is supposed to uplift, respect and care for us.

This needs to change.

Sincerely,

Remy

(PS: If any introjects want to add onto this post with their own negative experiences within the community, feel free. Or alternatively, you can come into our inbox about it, on or off anon, and talk about your experiences, and we can link it to a more concise post talking about the negative experiences of introjects within the community.)

#txt #syscourse #long post #actuallyplural #actuallytraumagenic #actuallydid #actuallymultiple #endogenic #pluralgang #anti endo #pro endo #introject #fictive #factive #pluralmeta #sysmeta #didmeta #pluralitycritique

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