#Did I use 'being raised by pirates' as a metaphor for being autistic?

[shining-scion]

Your heart always remembered this, but your mind is just starting to. 

Of course, you were too young to really remember anything at all, but you know.

You were too small to see past the walls of the deck, so it was all sky, all colors— pinks and blues and purples and stars. Oh, the stars, how you loved them, glimmering with mana you’d never harness for yourself, falling and trailing light and dust, marking the path to a place you’d never go.

If you couldn’t see past the deck walls, you surely couldn’t see their faces, but you knew who they were. She was a long coattail and a decorated sword at her belt, a wide brimmed hat that shrouded her face in shadow when she knelt down to speak to you face to face. She was a sharp confident voice that commanded and a cheerful song that celebrated. She was recklessness and passion and chance.

He was her mirror, a short shining pistol that covered her flank and a quiet smooth voice that spoke with purpose. He was tall boots and rough gloves, a worn map aged yellow clasped in his hand. You can’t remember his face either, but he was logic and reason and observation.

And you were with them always, from the moment you knew you were yourself. They would put you on their shoulders and you’d see the world from the eyes of indomitable giants, aboard a little world all its own as you strode through a much bigger one. You’d reach up and touch worn cloth, pull on rough rope, and sometimes you’d fly just close enough to a cloud that you could almost graze your fingers against it if you were quick enough.

There were others too. You know there was a shorter man who spent quite a lot of time playing with you when they were too busy to. You called him uncle, which they approved of, and found rather charming. You know who he is now, and the name you called him back in that dream of a memory was incorrect, said by a voice too young to know such a thing.

Both of you were in the room below the surface when it happened. The night was warm and seeping through the boards of the ship, creaking of wood replacing cricket song, and you had no idea where you were sailing to, or if you were going anywhere at all, or even where in the great sky you were. You were only in the sky, surrounded by faceless giants that laughed and split shiny things amongst themselves, and that was all you cared to know.

You were speaking to your uncle excitedly when he came in, ruffling your hair first before speaking with soft urgency.

Ship. Looks strange. Not one I recognize.

And then a reply.

War. Machines. Men.

A word you were told not to repeat.

He leaves, quicker than he came in. Your uncle tries to return back to the fun you were having a moment ago, but now you’re curious. You ask to go to the surface, where you can see the sky. He tells you you’ll catch a cold, but the night is warm so you know he’s lying.

You know not to be trouble when a lot of things start happening, so you try to return to playing. She comes in a few moments later, just as the room shakes.

She leans down to your level, but the light in the room obscures her expression. She speaks to you sweetly, calmly, but quickly.

It’s going to be loud. Stay here. Stay with uncle ???.

And she hugs you, and then she draws her sword, shouting words you don’t understand. Your uncle slams the door just as you see something bright and orange. He begins to open drawers and cabinets, stuffing a bag older than you are with things you don’t have time to see. He explains some things, but the words are big and unknowable. You only catch a few.

Military. Mechanical. Inhuman.

The room shakes and quivers, and you begin to cry as he takes your hand, rushing out to the deck, starry sky obscured by black clouds and bright hot metals you only see when they rush past you and hit a sail. 

There’s a man with her, and he’s wearing well pressed clothes with a stiff posture. His head is white but you can’t really tell.

There’s nowhere to go and all the giants in your little world are rushing to stand by her. The man you do not recognize has a ship behind him, and that ship has claws digging into the soft wood you thought invincible. The man says something without moving even an inch, a flat monotone voice you can’t make words out of. She draws her sword and stabs towards him, but he’s smooth and has something silver in his hand that he points when he steps aside and your uncle covers your eyes as another loud sound slams against your little ears.

Your eyes are covered as the world grows more unsteady, and when they’re not covered you’re running, and it’s so bright, but not like the day when there’s birds and singing. 

At some point your uncle is gone and your world is breaking and cracking and on fire. You find a big piece of what you now know is ruin, and you cling to it very tightly as it floats with magic you’ll never learn or understand, and when everything is quiet again you are alone and the sky is empty and you are small.

The sun shines down on your skin when something grabs the back of your shirt. You don’t look at your rescuers as they take you somewhere where the stars always shine and smog crushes your chest. They speak of you in a tone that makes you ashamed, that you were raised strangely, without “discipline”— that it’ll take strict effort to make you a person worth much at all. Your little voice doesn’t speak, instead staring towards that sky and wishing it was you departing from those docks you’re soon not allowed to even walk near.

There’s pirate in you, they say as you grow. Dangerous and untamed, impolite. You’ll thank us later, when you’re older and have a good head on your shoulders.

One of them insists you call them father, and the other insists she’s your mother, but you feel no attachment to either of them as they tell you how to dress and walk and speak and act and think.

So you become greedy and hold onto every piece of gold you can find on the street, from money for lunch you never buy, and then you sneak out one very cold and very dark night, to that dock, and you beg the man with the worn ship to take a passenger. He looks at you, and you’re a little taller now, so you look up back at him.

He steps aside and does not say a word. You lose another home that night.

You think you’re almost grown up when you see the men in the well pressed coats again. You know their name now.

Armada.

Your mind forgot, but your heart remembers, and when the metal men come to your new home, it’s only a matter of days before you act brashly, swift as you’ve become from years of exploring your world. You think yourself free now, and that was true— it feels very good to stand against the machines you don’t remember, until your little sword— a plaything, really— is knocked from your hands and you’re led away in chains, made an example of.

You smile bravely as they take you.

Now in your present, you lay in the same room he and she once did, and your mind knows their names now— Mama and Papa. You know some of their crewmates, and you know just exactly where they went to that made them so infallible. Now you’re to head there yourself, you assume.

The wooden boards creek in the darkness, and you can swear you hear your mama’s voice singing in the space between. The swaying of the old vessel almost feels like how she used to sway you on stormy nights, and if you close your eyes you can almost pull yourself back there, tear a hole in time just like a stormgate tears a hole to the outer dark. Some part of you is forever in this sky, your surname etched in the windlines— no longer bound by mortal syllabary, rather written in the script of stars and clouds.

Forever in the wind, never to be anyone’s daughter.

[palmett-hoes]

since the first step in achieving your goals is to state them aloud, here's a list of aftg fics/ au s that i'd like to write some day

- pre-canon fic from aaron's perspective spanning the twins' first meeting till they're drafted by the foxes and graduate high school. i'm increasingly enamored with aaron as a character as well as with an outside perspective of andrew's actions and i think it would be very interesting to look at the foundation on which their fraught relationship is built and first developed

- even more pre-canon fic. andrew's early life in foster care. yes, we all know about the most... gruesome things that were done to him, but i believe that there is plenty more that has affected and shaped him, especially in relation to my interpretation of andrew as an autistic poc. this would not be a happy fic.

- anastasia au. neil as anya, andrew as dimitri. possibly a plot amalgamation from both the animated movie and the stage show, with changes as i see fit. (no, neil is not the prince of russia). what i find most compelling about this au is the story of neil and andrew as childhood friends and then the angst of having andrew, as an adult, teaching an amnesiac neil how to act like a noble while being convinced that neil is an imposter. good shit

- art school/dance club au. the foxes attend the palmetto school of art at prestigious edgar allen university. they're considered the school's charity cases, and they are NOT friends. andrew is a studio arts major with a concentration in sculpture who works in the campus coffee shop in the mornings and frequents night clubs that employ pretty boys in the evenings. neil is attending college completely on his father's dime, PROVIDED he study what his father wants, despite his desire to study dance and music. going crazy without an outlet, neil takes a secret job as a go-go dancer. look. this may slightly possibly be a result of me having planned to party hardy this summer, then having my plans ruined by the virus :c

- 1950s High School au. the 1950s aesthetics fucking rock even though the 1950s fucking sucked. kinda wanna tackle both. plus, andrew already has that james dean bad boy fast car appeal

- an exploration of mary and nathan's relationship and history. i get that neil's parents are both super taboo and both really really awful people, but i have questions and i want to answer them

- neil never returns from baltimore. in order to keep his deals, permanently, andrew kills riko and tetsugi, and gets over 20 years in prison. when he gets out, he just wants to be alone, but it seems there's a ghost haunting him. this was conceived for MAXIMUM angst, no getting around it. i got the idea from a badacts fic and it has haunted me ever since

- post-canon sexuality exploration fic. i have a real passion for quality sex education and healthy experimentation, and neil very clearly didn't get the chance for either. yet at the end of the books he finds himself in a very intense sexual relationship. i just really want to give him the opportunity to find out how desire works for him and what he likes, on his own terms. i read a lot of fics where neil's desires seem to be completely dependent on andrew's initiaton, and while i do believe that andrew is the only person neil is attracted to and will ever be attracted to, i also want to explore how his sexuality manifests on its own. the vibe i'm going for is, uh, HornySweet (tm), but also with a lot of genuine eductional material. i want this is to be something that offers real information to its readers that may have been inaccessible for a lot of people, on topics like like sexual hygiene, maturbation, and sex toys in a non-fetishy way. this will be very very E rated, but like,, in a very earnest and goofy way because sex and sexuality is neat and cool but it's also not all serious perfect fucking. it's just,, a topic that deserves to be DISCUSSED

- mobster au. andrew, having never met aaron, takes a job for the moriyamas to track down a runaway asset. Neil. upon completion, they make andrew the butcher's apprentice, and pull neil back into the fold as a commodity rather than a person. lots of violence, lots of shady underground dealings, lots of plotting, lots of secrets.

i'm gonna put some more under the cut, ones that i don't feel as strong a drive towards right now or that i haven't thought as much about. if you (yes, YOU) like any of these, or are interested in any of these, or wanna hear more about any of these, or are even inspired to write something yourself by any of these please, PLEASE, say something in the notes, or send me a message, or an ask or anything. ANYTHING. i am stuck inside, all the time, and i am so, so lonely. i answer from hoob-gooblin

- princess bride au. come ON. princess bride is one of the most romantic AND most snarky movies of all time, and andreil literally invented love and devotion sooooooo it's a perfect match. "yes or no" vs "as you wish" kings of consent and communication and unconventional love declarations. also,, he may not be how I imagine andrew, but a young cary elwes in dramatic black pirate getup is DEFINITELY a valid andrew

- hozier au. sometimes,, i listen to an album, and imagine a fic that encompases the whole thing. nothing speaks louder to me than hozier's discography. (also, yes, i am gay). maybe a little bit inside llewyn davis. neil wanders through a small town and takes up some small jobs, but sings his heart out through twisted metaphors once a week in a hole in the wall bar staffed by a very short, dead eyed veteran

- prince and the pauper au. on a stealth recon mission in enemy territory, andrew encounters a local lord who happens to have his face. in a moment of desperation to save himself from arrest, andrew knocks the lord out and assumes his identity. he returns to the castle just in time for prince moriyama to arrive with a shifty-eyed, red-headed handservant in tow. lord aaron of columbia, meanwhile, wakes up on a ship manned by crown traitor and fugitive kevin day, calling him by a name he's never heard before, and then he's in the hands of the guerilla rebel forces that have been attacking the kingdom. i watched barbie princess and the pauper as a child and that movie fucking slaps

- little mermaid/beauty and the beast/bride of the rose beast/ladyhawke au. in a last ditch attempt to escape his father, neil trades his voice and his tail for legs and washes ashore on a small kingdom with horrible secrets. because he cannot speak, read or write, prince aaron employs neil to serve the monster in the catacombs, the prince's twin brother. the twins are under a curse that turns them into terrifying monsters, andrew by day and aaron by night. aaron's affliction is a secret, as is andrew's humanity. this is such a hodgepodge idea lol. did neil also have to be a mermaid for this to work? no. is he? hell yeah

- new york private school/twin swap au. aaron wins a scholarship to a prestigious school that will guarantee him a future, but then he relapses. convinced he just needs a little more time to get clean, he makes a deal with his volatile new brother, andrew, to stand in for him at the school just until he can his shit together. neil and ichirou moriyama have been raised together their entire lives, always under the knowledge that ichirou will inherit the family empire with nathaniel as his right hand. they hate the idea, but they have no way to escape, and now neil is being harassed by ichirou's bitchass estranged brother at their stupid, fancy private school. LISTEN, we as a fandom do NOT take enough advantage of the twin swap possibilities presented to us. pathetic

- post-canon fic where ichirou, realizing that the life of a mob boss is a lonely one, decides that he needs... a friend. however, because of the nature of his work, he can't just make friends with anyone, so he decides to make friends with neil. without consulting neil first. cue a lot of very weird, very awkward coffee dates where neil is convinced he's about to be disposed of, and ichirou just wants to know about his cats. the thing i like about ichirou is he’s a complete blank slate. i can make him a good guy, a bad guy, an ally, the Big Bad

- Kill Bill au. mary survives a bullet to the head and wakes up from a coma over a year later. with nothing left to lose, she sets out to single-handedly dismantle the wesninski circle. good thing she used to be its top assassin

- single dad andrew au. except look, look, stay with me here, okay, aaron is his son, and he's adopted nicky and kevin. LISTEN. STAY WITH ME. JUST THINK ABOUT IT. tbh the idea comes from my interpretation of the andrew/neil/kevin dynamic as distincly parental, then extending that interpretation to andrew's protection over the rest of his family.

- fashion au. andrew is a fashion designer and photographer who frequently works with allison reynolds. one day she brings around a short, twitchy assistant who looks like she just plucked him out of an alley. somehow, he becomes andrew's muse. i watch a lot of fashion competition shows

- ghibli. either howl's moving castle (andrew as sophie, neil as howl) or spirited away (?). maybe both idk

- legally blonde au. legally blonde is so good guys