#the way I READ it at least is that he’s meant to be a neurodivergent foster kid

[you-see-something-strange-here]

whether it was intentional or not, I will always think about bart allen being coded as a neurodivergent foster kid. he’s “different” and “weird” and can’t focus on school, he doesn’t get people or their rules, very clearly ADHD, is constantly shuttled from home to home because nobody in his family really wants him or knows how to deal with him, he’s too much -

[arieswritez]

puppy love

puppy love | yandere!mark grayson x afab!reader | MULTI-CHAP: 3

chapter 2

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI!!! reader is neurodivergent, ableism, growing up is messy & adults suck, angst, niceguy™/slight incel mark, childhood friend/bully!mark, mark gets his powers sooner, teeny tiny implications of pseudo incest (blink and you'll miss it), violent rape, threats of violence, & canon typical violence, stalking, implied murder, gender & body dysphoria, mentions/implications of disordered eating, mark teases reader about their body once, overall asshole mark, implied grooming (mark handles it but he's a lil bitch about it later), so, victim blaming, misogyny, the inexplicable horrors of being afab, objectification, sexualization

about; you don't know how long i could stare into your picture and wish that it was me i guess it's different 'cause you love him but i've got an interactive sick and twisted imagination and that's gotta count for something - not allowed (tv girl)

3.

you'd found a boy that made your heart go thump thump, thump. and you knew very well how the rest of that story usually went.

your love was encompassing. asphyxiating and obsessive. and in the very first moment the two of you interacted, you knew, this could be it.

you didn't blame yourself.

you couldn't blame yourself.

blame the love stories.

the disney movies with the princes and the magic mirrors. breaking curses with true love's kiss. much like the fabricated sugary fantasies, your potential life with him unfolded before your eyes.

he could be the one.

true love's forever kiss.

you imagined it all.

movie theater dates, awkward parental meetings, proposals, a home, kids, pets. arguments. therapy, even. pushing through at the end. death. rebirth. trying it all over again in the next life.

all you had to do was get him to stick around.

you had to make him understand that you could be his true love kiss, too.

you had to be perfect.

. . there was just one miniscule problem.

the boy so happened be on the same baseball team as mark.

it's the way the two of you had met.

despite the fact that you were supposed to be there for mark: your eyes were . . elsewhere. your eyes - then your focus - had gravitated towards him even before the first pitch. and you found yourself blushing as you watched him stretch: holding his baseball bat over his head.

you'd made it your only goal to attempt to extract as much information about it from mark as discretely as you could. and frankly, you should've known mark would be able to read you like the back of his hand.

because he found out what you were trying to do embarrassingly quickly.

and he was just as quick to shut it down.

you hadn't noticed the boy before. not really. but since the baseball game, he seemed to be everywhere. and you were excited to find that he was the new addition to mark's friend group. you knew this because you saw him and mark sitting together during lunch.

which meant they were at least acquaintances.

so imagine your shock when you came to find out. . mark didn't like him.

everything about him seemed to rub mark the wrong way. mark would clam up the moment you mentioned your boy. he'd change the subject. or his mood would just straight up sour. he'd go quiet and avoidant. and when you kept pushing, he finally snapped.

your boy was stupid.

your boy was shallow.

"don't say i didn't warn you." mark would mumble.

but warning you wasn’t enough.

your boy barely looked at you.

and you weren't sure if it was in part because of the way you acted. . the way you looked. maybe he was so out of your league that he'd completely removed you from his radar.

you'd watch him from across hallways and excitement would swell in your chest when you found that you'd be walking in opposite directions.

you'd see him coming.

he'd see you.

time would slow as you walked past him.

your heart rate would pick up.

but his eyes would remain forward and time would pick back up again as soon as you were past each other.

all it'd leave you with was the bitter taste of rejection in your mouth and a deep ache of anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

the only thing that sobered you up were the dizzying possibilities.

he hadn't seen you. he hadn't noticed the effort you'd put in.

but eventually, he would.

you don't know what it was that grabbed his attention.

mark was vehemently against introducing you two.

you were at a loss until you realized that you'd just have to try harder.

whenever mark left for the bathroom, you'd made it a mission to swipe mark's phone during study sessions. you'd go through his socials and send yourself screenshots of both his follower count and who he was following.

it was a long tedious progress but eventually, you'd found your boy's account.

thankfully, it was public. which meant the the decoy accounts you'd made to snoop just in case he was private turned out to be a waste of time.

you looked through his followers and did your homework on anyone he showed a particular interest in. you'd even made a list of the usernames of the people who’s posts he interacted with the most.

and soon you became a master of disguise.

you studied them top to bottom.

those that went to the same school were far easier to emulate.

you copied their mannerisms, the way they styled their hair, you changed the cadence of your voice, the way you rolled your r’s. your clothing grew tighter and your slouch was now an exaggerated upbeat gallop as you chased after the object your new affection, hoping one day he'd notice.

. . and the exact moment he looked into your eyes and did a double take. . you did one, too.

it was completely out of surprise before you caught yourself and continued to saunter away from him with butterflies in your stomach: flapping their wings so violently it felt like you'd be swept away.

his attention was the most excitement you'd felt. . in a long time.

and you knew you'd do anything to retain it.

it was a sickly sweet feeling: syrupy, sticky. clogging your vascular system to the point your head swelled. the lack of oxygen only heightened your fantasies.

the attention was addictive and so, so good you found yourself chasing that high all the time. going to extreme lengths to get his attention. even if they’d end up embarrassing you after.

you never allowed yourself to wallow in the feeling of dread that settled in your stomach when you did everything in your power to get his attention, though.

specially whenever it made a smile stretch across his face.

whatever you did faded into the background.

it was all worth it in the end.

something was wrong with mark.

and he needed to get to the root of the problem fast.

he was looking at you. . differently.

he talked to his dad.

nolan had said something about the changing moods having to do with his powers. how being intense and passionate was just in his blood.

he talked to his mom about it. albeit in a more discrete way. he'd never be able to live it down if she'd found out you were making him behave a certain way.

she'd just chalked it up to it being puberty.

mark didn't know who to believe.

he just wanted to stop thinking about you.

his nerves were shot to shit whenever you were near.

senses heightened: you were a fog blanketing his brain until your voice carried with it a technicolor vision.

he could smell you coming like a damn blood hound.

he could hear your pulse while sitting next to you.

something was wrong with mark.

he knew it when his teeth ached when you'd stretched your neck: raised your arms over your head and let out a little sound of pain and discomfort.

something was wrong with mark.

when the day's turned warm and wet. . and your clothing became more revealing.

he could see more of you.

freckles and moles, blemishes and scars, he hadn't noticed before.

he'd follow sweat drops rolling down your skin.

smooth. soft.

he'd held you, once.

when was the last time?

something was wrong with mark.

he'd lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling.

thinking about how you'd looked while you concentrated on a book. while you looked down at your phone. while you listened to music: smiling when a song you liked came on.

your little humming. . but not singing.

never singing.

mark noticed you'd stopped singing in front of him when he started to make fun of you for it.

that, too, was how mark knew something was wrong with him.

the way your moods would shift like tides under a crescent moon whenever he'd said something excited him. he felt pleasure - a violent zap of electricity shooting up and down his spice - watching your eyes light up or darken when he'd say something to you.

about you.

i like your hair today.

light.

you talk so goddamn much.

dark.

i missed you.

light.

your stories take fucking forever.

dark.

something was wrong with him when he found his own mood depended on fantasizing on how he'd make you feel that day.

if he was in a bad mood, seeing you in one, too, was a sure-fire way to make his day a whole lot better.

something was wrong with mark.

when he'd have to smother the sounds he made while imagining you -

something was wrong with him. . when red, hot anger consumed him when one of his friends made a smart quip about your body.

when he couldn't just laugh it off anymore.

something was wrong with mark.

. . or so he thought.

because he'd later find out. .

. . no.

something was wrong with you.

all of a sudden: mark was the one double texting.

triple texting.

mark was the one asking if he could hang out. . and when the fuck did he ever need permission?

mark was the one seeking you out.

something was wrong with you.

and he needed to get to root of the problem.

he picked his brain apart in an attempt to figure out what it was. you couldn't be under any stress. you looked fine. better than fine.

you looked happy.

fucking elated.

to the point where mark couldn't affect your moods anymore.

mark wanted to know what the fuck you were so happy about.

why the fuck you were so happy when he was falling apart at the seams. when his world was crashing down.

and there you were, completely fucking oblivious.

mark had always been curious.

and so, he went to see you.

the two of you were in your room.

you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

and mark started looking.

you were predictable.

he knew where you kept your journal. despite how many times he'd found it and read it aloud - holding it above his head whenever you tried to snatch it away - he'd always managed to figure out your next hiding place.

it was easier that way.

he pretended he didn't know where it was.

you pretended to have some privacy.

he pretended not to know every single, minute, insignificant detail of your life.

of your thoughts.

thank fuck you were still so naive.

thank fuck for dairies.

he'd found it in a box under your bed.

and after flipping to the page with the freshest set of ink. . he'd found out what your problem was.

you'd found a boy who'd made your heart go

thump.

thump.

thump.

[storm-angel989]

hallo!!!

i was wondering if you could do a Val x daughter reader

reader is neurodivergent and has a stutter :,> basically reader goes to auntie Vel first about how they’re being bullied at school and then Vel brings it up to Uncle Vox and Val.

i hope your having a nice day!

The editing continues! Enjoy <3 I apologize for the wait and appreciate your patience!

“What the fuck do you mean, being bullied?” Valentino demanded as he took a drag from his cigarette. Confusion and disgust flooded his features. “She’s in first grade, how do they even know how to be mean at that age?” 

Velvette shrugged and took a sip of her wine as they sat around the restaurant table. 

Another Tuesday night, another meeting of the minds. This was the one night a week Valentino’s daughter, reader,  stayed late for both art and speech therapy. Usually it involved logistics planning- who would pick her up, help her with homework, where she was supposed to be each day after school. They had learned early on that early planning and visual schedules helped her manage and practice her day to day routines and activities. This time each week was critical not only for themselves, but to help reader manage her anxieties. 

Tonight though, their meeting meant something far more sinister. 

“She came to me in tears the other day. Sobbing about how kids are being mean to her because she ‘talked funny’. I told her to ignore them and tell the teacher, but she told me one of them hit her. And that the teacher did nothing. That alone is worth the school.” 

“The school is fucking useless. What do we do about it?” Valentino demanded asked as he bit back the anger in his voice. “Surely there must be something we can do.”

“Like what? Walk up to first graders and bully them back?” Velvette asked with a snort. 

“I mean, if they’re being cruel to my little girl then…” Valentino began.

“Cut the shit. We may not be able to do anything as adults but we can give our sweet reader the means to defense herself,” Velvette snapped. 

Valentino tapped his cigarette ashed into the tray and gave her a disapproving look. “We’re not teaching my daughter to throw a punch. Not that she would anyway But we can go to school and talk to them. Give us a good feel for the policies they have in place. It’s highly doubtful they’ll give us the names of the kids- but I’ll ask her. Maybe she’ll tell me.”  Valentino asked. 

“They’d give you the names if you filed the fucking paperwork like I told you,” Velvette muttered. She tuned out the rest of their chatter, her mind reeling. There was no sense in arguing with Valentino- he was reader’s dad after all. But she didn’t see the issue with at least teaching her the basics of self defense. And honestly, what Valentino didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

The sound of Vox’s voice pulled her back to attention.

“I’ll fit her with a small camera. Tomorrow.” Vox said definitively. “At least then we’ll have proof. And they can’t ignore proof- we have to sort of play by the rules here, Valentino. Until then, what do we do?”

“Love her, comfort her. Help her manage her anxiety and I think I have the perfect book about it for bedtime tonight.” Velvette suggested. “Sound like a plan?” 

Both boys seemed to agree. 

As soon as reader walked in the door that night, she dove into her afterschool routine. Homework with Vox, dinner at the dinner table with all three of them, bathtime with Valentino, teeth brushing, pjs and because it was Thursday- tucked into bed first by Aunt Velvette. 

“Reader? Can we talk a little bit about school before your dad comes in?” Velvette asked as she pulled the bed covers back. 

Reader nodded and climbed under the sheets. Velvette laid down next to her and she snuggled the tiny body against hers. There wasn’t much in this world that turned Velvette soft, but reader was one of them. 

“I want to teach you what to do when someone is mean to you- your daddy is coming in in a few minutes to read a book about different ways to handle it. But I want to teach you another way- a secret way that has to stay between us girls, okay?” 

To her surprise, reader sat up and looked eager. 

“L-like what Auntie?” 

And so Velvette showed her, in the quiet ten minutes she had, how to throw a punch. How to turn her wrist, aim for the nose and step into the force. 

“Don’t ever start anything, but if they put a hand on you first, turn around and deck them. Hard. And they’ll never touch you again.  But don’t tell your Dad I taught you, okay? Keep it between us girls.” 

Reader nodded happily and tucked herself back against Velvette as Valentino walked in. He took his place on the other side of the bed and Reader leaned up and nuzzled Velvette’s cheek- butterfly kisses, as she called them, before snuggling back against Valentino. 

“This book is called I said no,” Velvette heard Valentino say as she quietly closed the door and made her way to her own room. She hoped that her niece would never have to use the skills she taught her. But in her mind, it was better to have the skill and not need it, than to need it than not have it. 

But she still wasn’t surprised when she got the call from Valentino the next day. She pushed a button and the fury that was Valentino flashed on her screen. 

“Velvette! What did you do?” Valentino screamed. “I just got a fucking call from the school- Reader is in the principles office for punching someone! How the fuck does she know how to punch?”

Velvette snorted at the accusation as pride flooded through her heart. Atta girl. “Beats me, but Vox put a camera on her this morning right? So cool your jets. Is reader hurt?”

Velvette watched as he seemed to consider her point. 

“Well, no. I don’t think so,” Valentino said after the momentary pause. 

“And the other kid?”

“I…I don’t fucking know go with Vox to the school NOW. I’ll meet you there as soon as I finish the fucking paperwork.”

Velvette raised an eyebrow as Vox walked in the room. “Oh, you mean the paperwork you were supposed to finish last week?” 

“Fuck you Velvette, go and get your niece, now!” 

The screen went black and Velvette rolled her eyes. Reader wouldn’t have made the first move, she was certain of that. 

One short limo ride later, she and Vox walked into the school. They were immediately escorted to the principal's office and Velvette gritted her teeth at the scene that greeted them. Reader sat, tears streaming down her face next to a boy with a bloody nose. A female demon- probably his mother, stood behind him, glaring at reader. 

“You wanna fuck off?” Velvette snapped as she looked up. “And back the fuck off from my kid.” She reached over and lifted reader up into her arms as she continued to sob. “What happened, baby?” 

“What happened is that reader punched this young man in the face, completely unprovoked,” the principal began.

“H-h-he…” Reader began to sob. 

Velvette shushed her and gave Vox a look. 

“That’s what you say, let’s watch the footage and see what actually happened,” Vox interjected. 

The other two adults in the room seemed to freeze.

“Mr. Vox we don’t utilize cameras or any Voxtech…” the principal began. 

“You don’t, but I do,” Vox replied smoothly. 

Velvette watched both of their faces go white. Carefully, Vox reached over and unclipped the almost invisible camera from the collar of his niece's shirt. A video appeared on the wall behind them, showcasing the events of the day. Behind them, Valentino opened the door and closed it quietly. Two button presses and the truth came to light. The boy, pinching, teasing, name calling and laughing. Reader telling him to quietly leave her alone. A hit to the back and finally, reader turning around and nailing him in the face. 

“Oh good job baby girl,” Velvette whispered in reader’s ear. She felt the twitch of a smile against her shoulder as she cradled her. Good, Velvette thought, she was starting to settle. 

Vox shut the movie off and looked at the adults present. “I’m eager to see what type of punishment will come from this,” he said flatly. 

“We hold a no tolerance policy, so both the boy and reader will be suspended…”

“I think the fuck not.” Valentino’s cold voice came from across the room. 

The principal stood up, a miffed expression on his face. “Mr. Valentino. Ms. Velvette. Mr. Vox. With all due respect you don’t have a say over my school. Your jurisdiction ends at that door.” 

Valentino smirked and looked at the other V’s. He walked over to Velvette and took his daughter into his arms. He whispered something quietly in reader’s ear and a smile spread across her tear stained face. He walked her over to the principal's desk and gently nudged her.

“Go ahead bebita.”

“D-daddy s-says you’re fired!” She announced loudly before burying her face back in his neck. 

The principal's face turned deep red. “As I said you have no jurisdiction…the audacity…”

“Actually, I do,” Valentino replied as he held up a piece of paper. “As of today the V corporation owns this school, and every single one like it in the pride ring. You’re fired. And you..” he turned around to face both the mother and the child who sat frozen in horror. “Your brat of a child is expelled. Get off my property before I have you escorted out. All three of you. Now.” 

Valentino turned and walked out, gently holding his daughter as Vox and Velvette followed. 

“This would have been much less dramatic if you had filed the paperwork a week ago, like I told you to!” Velvette scolded. 

“Yeah, but that was fun- was it not?” Valentino looked down at his daughter, “did you like firing the principle my sweet ninita?” 

She nodded and he planted a kiss on her forehead as he carried her outside. “Let’s go out for lunch, my love. Calm down a little bit. And tomorrow when you go back to school, I promise no one will even think to lay a hand or speak unkindly to you.  We’ll protect you. And we always will.”

[asurrogateblog]

The Syd Poll

the topic of this poll is one that is frequently avoided in the pink floyd fandom, but inevitably one we all consider – our individual views on what we think caused syd's psychological struggles (and by extension, led to his departure from the band). I think that – at least in this neighborhood of tumblr – this is a conversation we are capable of having in a way that is civil, nuanced, and at least minimally disrespectful to syd.

So, to help facilitate this, here are some ground rules:

let's all assume we have a mutual understanding of the complexities of this. syd could never actually be reduced down to a poll, and all of our viewpoints are limited in various ways

the poll options just serve as just a conversation starter, and responses are not necessarily a statement of absolute beliefs

feel free to discuss as much or as little of your own perspective as you feel comfortable sharing.

in the case that debates break out, please try to assume good intent – and also demonstrate it (unless, for instance, someone is being blatantly insulting beyond a misunderstanding that needs correcting)

please do NOT vote if you are not actually a pink floyd fan with at least basic knowledge about what we're talking about here.

The options I've included below are not meant to be exhaustive, they are simply the "theories" that I have seen most commonly circulated. I have also decided not to include combinations. I'm fairly sure we'd all agree multiple factors were involved. Rather than make the poll too complicated, I ask you to instead select the one that you think is the "most" important to your viewpoint, and clarify further in your tags/comments as you wish.

so. here we go.

READ BEFORE VOTING ^^^^

(note of correction: "late-onset schizophrenia" should just be "schizophrenia". the typical timeline for onset of symptoms is late adolescence/early adulthood, so syd would've been well within that period at the time)

[ckret2]

3rd times the charm (writing this i lost what i wrote 2 times already) questions/related for/to goldilocks bill 

1 is mabel adhd and or some neurodivergent cuz of hw/grade thoughts/feeling /comments made/referenced and was this me being delusional/implied and will only be implied in the story/foreshadow something or just 

2 can bill hid his cycle long term and who restocks mables pads cuz if its her what does she think of a huge chunk going missing and if not how long and with mable in ca and melody maybe moving out what would he do what are his thoughts on having to ask for menstrual products like asking would be humiliating on a scale of 1 to 10 who would he ask most to least likely what beliefs/knowledge/feeling do the other characters have on periods 

3 would he have any thoughts/preference on different menstrual products like pads/tampons/cups/other items i don't know or it the theme/art the only difference 

4 sorry if this is gross (S&P would never approve) but would bill if he had period blood at the time gone for round 3 of battle of hygiene used the period blood like his stink and the sink incident as bargaining/negotiations chips for something cuz i hate how messy period blood is in my experience and just experience with so many peoiple being so repulsed by it (would he possibly think its funny like blood haha and the blood clots like slipe)

5 why did he get one so soon like his body is 2 weeks old ( i think i'm bad with time(time is and illusion anyway)) but anxiety, depression, sudden weight loss/gain, being under/over weight, extreme exercise, and poor nutrition are some of the relevant things that can make you miss your period and bills got oodles of poor nutrition depression anxiety and maybe (going on only sooses comment so far) sudden weight loss (for me just eating 2 to 1 meals (1 school lunch the other fast food) a day for a long time meant i didn't get a period for like 6 months) but is it the fact it's so new and axolotl set to easy thats he got one (also i don't mean to be rude i have no knowledge of what you do/dont know about periods and stuff)

6 for the kryptos gang Maybe when the accident happens bill rips holes in the dimension of accident and only they are lucky/unlucky enough to fall and get translated though not knowing it was bill and not in bills view/doesn't know/thinks that killed them? And end up stranded in an extremely unknown place worried about the shit going down in the dimension and latter get rumors it was destroyed and they grieve But that way bill is  alone in the aftermath and people spread no survivors present and these shapes are standed  he meets/collects them that way he can promise them something better would them not knowing erase or amplify the guilt or would them know bill did it make more sense sorry if this is bad i know that i don't articulate myself well disclaimer i have not read the book of bill (im :,( broke rn).i have seen some of the website but would this work with cannon and your story i also don't know how the dimension stuff would go would they up or down a dimension maybe the axolotl translated them cuz reason idk or bill accidently did it when the holes ripped open

god that's a lot of text to lose twice I'm so sorry lmao

1. Yes, I write Mabel as ADHD. I don't know if it will ever be directly stated in the fic, primarily because I doubt she's gonna get a diagnosis; but I'm drawing on the experiences of family, friends, & myself to write her.

2. Mabel thinks "hmmm... I used those a lot faster than I expected... but I've been using these less than a year, maybe I just don't have a good sense of how fast I use them yet."

Bill wouldn't consider asking for them any more or less humiliating than having to ask his captors for food access, shower access, or sunlight access. He has no taboos or shame associated with bleeding out of a hole for most of a week, being ashamed of that is a human cultural thing; but he is consistently humiliated by needing to ask his captors to please let him have the basic resources he needs for his stupid body maintenance.

But remember he just got a room with a fridge and permission from Soos to stick whatever he wants on the household grocery list. He doesn't need to specifically ask his captors for period supplies. He can just... put it on the grocery list. Now it's Soos's problem. Maybe Abuelita's, I feel like she might prefer to do the shopping if it's not too strenuous for her yet.

3. Tampons can kill you so Bill thinks humans are pretty dumb to use them. He doesn't much care beyond that. He's used exactly one product.

4. I can't think of a reason he wouldn't but I'm not interested in exploring weaponized hygiene more than I already have.

5. He's been in his body over five weeks. He got the one period he's had so far almost 4 weeks in, giving him a cycle only slightly longer than average. (Even if he HAD gotten one two weeks in—how do you know his body wasn't just created already halfway through a cycle?) He's had a shit month but he started off in good enough health for it not to immediately matter and the shittiest most physically & mentally grueling part of the month (the eclipse + execution) came after he'd bled.

6. begs a lot of questions—"how" "why them" "where were they" "why didn't Bill find out sooner" "why DID he find out". Doesn't feel airtight enough to me. Plus, I already know EXACTLY how Bill's dimension is destroyed, and random rips in the dimension aren't part of it.

[deadmenandthedivine]

DEAD MEN § the DIVINE

chapter nineteen: when the canary sings

Maetilda Targaryen, First of her Name, was supposed to be many things. What she became was entirely different.

table of contents

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, sexual situations (consensual § nonconsensual), imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, disassociation, thoughts of self harm and annihilation, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

word count: 4635

Dirt and grime. It felt like a layer of both coated her skin no matter how hard she rubbed and itched at herself. Her skin was starting to redden with the irritation of her picking and scratching. The feeling spanned throughout her body. Both inside and out. Eating at her slowly but thoroughly. A sensation she couldn’t escape. Despite the fresh cleanliness of her limbs, she still felt too filthy to be laced into her fine gown. With a myriad of old Pentoshi songs and plenty of coaxing, her handmaids had eventually convinced her to dress before the sun had reached its daily peak. What a princess she was. A poor excuse for a Targaryen. She was nothing more than an animal, confined to the enclosure that was her chambers and itching for another flea bath. She desperately wanted to feel clean again.

The day felt strange from the moment she opened her eyes. The castle walls were eerily silent. Less footsteps, less chatter, less life floated down the corridors. There was a hole in her chest, a hole the size of her family. After their departure, the princess forced Ser Gunthor to read to her for the rest of the afternoon. Both Ser Eddrin and Ser Wyllam traveled back to Dragonstone to see about the transfer of all of her belongings to King’s Landing and Runestone, leaving Ser Gunthor to remain with his princess. Despite how much he struggled to decipher the bigger words on the page. She wanted the tales of the Bronze Kings to drown out any lingering thoughts of Dragonstone. The place she had called home for the longest. The place she would likely never see again, unless specially invited by Jacaerys. If only his nose hadn’t been broken by her betrothed. Perhaps then, she would have been invited regularly. She would have visited her nieces and nephews twice a year, if not more. Perhaps they would have visited her children at Runestone too. 

But what had once been a given was now a question. King’s Landing was beginning to feel like a fever dream. Everything seemed backwards and wrong. From the castle decorations to the lords and ladies’ behavior at court. Each movement, each breath felt made on borrowed time. As if when traveling there by boat, her family had all taken a wrong turn and docked in Sothyros. In a false city meant to trick them into thinking it was King’s Landing so that the locals could pick them off one by one. And she was the last one left, finally awoken to the horror of it all. If that were the case, at least her dreams would make sense. She felt like she was going mad. 

After breaking fast with her father the day before, she had not gone down to the main courtyard to see the rest of her kin off. She felt too shaken up after the table had been thrown. Her maids had brought a bath and scrubbed her skin raw, yet she still felt dirty from the other night.  She didn’t want to leave her chambers in the slightest. The guilt of it all ate her alive. She did not even have the decency to send her own family off. If they hadn’t hated her already, they certainly had to now. As much as she did not like it, the princess could not blame them. They were not wrong to feel she had betrayed them. In many ways, she had.

A knock sounded on the chamber door before Ser Gunthor stepped inside. Maetilda looked up at him from her embroidery scribbles as she remained perched on spot in the fainting chair. Respectfully, he bowed before announcing that the Princess Helaena Targaryen had come to visit. Her cousin was immediately welcomed in. The princess-by-birth wore a beautiful periwinkle gown with a high neckline and seven-pointed star brocade. Her hair was pulled out of her face and left to flow down her back. She smiled wide upon entering.

“I visit my mother every evening with the children before we all go to bed. I do think I shall visit you every morning that you are here.” The younger smiled.

“I should have no bad days if they all start with a visit from you.” Maetilda smirked before giggling at the face Helaena made.

“You have spent too much time with my brother already.” She scrunched her nose up.

“He is the one who will not leave me alone.” 

“I have not thanked you yet, for what you did.”

“Thanked me?”

“You stood with my brother, and I am not the only one who appreciates your loyalty.”

“Yes, well.” Maetilda could not help the lost sigh that escaped her, “I do not feel as if I did the right thing.”

Helaena nodded bluntly, “There shall be repercussions.”

“I can feel them coming.” The princess-by-title laughed dryly, “But I do not know what to watch for.”

A silence fell between the two as Helaena stood rigid in thought. Alone in the room together, they dropped all traces of any act. Behaving as they felt most natural. The princess-by-birth seemed to jolt out of her own head before she took a seat on one of the other loungers.

“Do bugs break fast? Or do they have meals at all?” Helaena thought aloud.

Eyebrows furrowed, the princess-by-title responded honestly, “Suppose it depends on the bug. ‘Some must.”

“Do the silverfish and the earwig?”

“They get a meal when they can. Don’t know if one could call it anything.”

“The earwig eats the silverfish, in the end.”

“Unless the silverfish can get away.”

“But that does not always happen.”

“No, it doesn’t.” The princess-by-title sighed again, “Is Aemond the earwig? And I the silverfish?”

“You are the silverfish. That I know.” Helaena nodded.

“Who else would wish to eat me?” Maetilda laughed.

“From what Aemond has told me, he already has.” The princess-by-birth smirked as her cousin’s jaw fell to the floor, “On the balcony, was it?”

Maetilda’s cheeks enflamed to a bright red, “He told you?”

“Spilled all his deepest secrets on our walk yesterday.”

“It was his idea.” The princess-by-title crossed her arms, “Don’t believe I ever agreed to it actually.”

Helaena shook her head knowingly. Yet despite the knowing in her eyes, the rest of her was more rigid. “Do we ever?”

“How do you stay afloat amongst it all?”

“My family, my children. I find a purpose in them. Then the rest does not seem to be so much.”

Maetilda nodded, as her mind raced on the inside. What was she to do if her family hated her? She had no children to focus on and her family likely would not speak to her. Finding a purpose would not be so easy. Perhaps she didn’t have one. Perhaps she was meant to live a life alone in exile at Runestone. Perhaps she was meant to be her generation’s cautionary tale for maidens who waited too long to wed. 

“You shall find what brings you joy with time. I did not like my own children at first.”

The princess-by-title laughed so hard she nearly snorted, “Well, of course! You had two at once!”

“Thought they were a curse when they were born. I see why they were given to me now.”

“You do?”

“Yes. The gods could not leave any one child to suffer alone with me.” She laughed, “They are meant to keep each other company, keep each other distracted. I could have  never had just one.”

The princess-by-birth looked so relaxed when she smiled. It spread a sense of peace throughout the room. The sun shined brighter, reflecting off the surface of her teeth. And just like the sun, Helaena seemed to practically glow. In their youth, the princess-by-title always envied her cousin. How pretty she was, how neat her curls were. Three children later and nothing had changed. Yet, so much had changed. She remained under her mother’s watchful eye more than ever. She stayed tucked away in her chambers unless accompanied. After their time in the Godswood, they hadn’t seen each other much at all — unless attending dinner or visiting the other’s chambers. Amongst the same castle walls, should they not be inseparable?

“May I ask you something?” Maetilda broke the silence.

Helaena nodded idly.

“Why is it only now that you have come to visit me? Have you and the children been in your chambers for the duration of my family’s stay?”

Again, Helaena nodded. 

“Do you hate them all?”

This time, the princess-by-birth shook her head. “No.”

“If that is the case, why make yourself sparse?”

Helaena only smiled. While she was younger, she often seemed as if she had far more years’ worth of knowledge. Far more than the others around her. There was an answer to her cousin’s question present in her eyes, but it never actually became words in her mouth. Her eyes were always so much more expressive than the rest of her. The two stood in a silent standoff as Maetilda waited for a response that never came.

“I am sorry. That was unbecoming of me to ask of you.” The princess-by-title looked down at her feet, wondering if perhaps she was the only one to let all improprieties fly between them.

“No, no. Do not apologize.” The younger giggled.

“Have I not offended you?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you no answer?”

“Not one that comes from mine own mouth.”

The room fell silent again. The princess-by-title stared at her cousin incredulously, not fully understanding what her words meant. Regardless, she could feel the restraint in her throat. She wished to say more, but could not. For whatever reason. But perhaps that was truly all she needed to say.

“May I ask you something more?” Maetilda piped up again.

Helaena gave her silent ‘yes.’

“Do you think my siblings will ever forgive me?”

The younger took a pause before proceeding with her answer, “They will not extend the olive branch first. You are one and they are many.”

“‘Suppose that is in our nature. But I do not wish to be made to choose between my family and the man I should marry. A marriage is supposed to do quite the opposite actually.”

The subject seemed to pain the princess-by-birth the longer they lingered on it. Her face scrunched in discomfort. She practically squirmed in her seat, mumbling under her breath. “What is left after the beast eats itself?”

“All the evidence.” The princess-by-title shrugged.

Helaena let out a brief dry laugh. “‘Suppose so.”

A thoughtful silence fell between the two. Maetilda did not know what to make of her cousin’s line of questioning. She couldn’t seem to find the meaning behind it, couldn’t figure out what was being hinted to. It felt as if the answer was staring her down the nose, yet she still could not see it. It made the hair on her arms and legs stand uncomfortably on end. She wondered what she was missing.

“Will you promise me something?” The princess-by-birth seemed to snap out of her own head again.

“Of cour— What is it?”

The younger hesitated, stuck on her words, “The storms.”

The princess-by-title waited for her to finish.

“Silverfish cannot swim.”

“No, they cannot.” Maetilda nodded. “Can dragons?”

Helaena’s body squirmed again. She shook her head, hard, before she eventually dizzied herself into stopping. She clutched the closest furniture piece until her knuckles turned white. Long fingernails scratched into the wood. Her dizzy head swayed until it eventually gained balance. Her eyes focused on something in front of her that the other could not see. When she was done, her demeanor had changed. Like she was a different person entirely. Maetilda’s mouth hung open in shock. Unsure what to do or how to help.

“Helaena, are you alright?”

“Shall we take a stroll? Perhaps visit Aemond?” The princess-by-birth suddenly inquired, effectively changing the subject.

“A-are we allowed?” 

“Why would we not?”

“I have not left this room since my family’s departure.”

“No you haven’t,” Helaena nodded slowly, “Are you alright?”

Maetilda shook her head, “I must have been cursed.”

The younger cousin laid a comforting hand on the other’s shoulder, “I understand how you feel.”

Helaena’s words felt weird to Maetilda. It was such a simple sentence. Yet after it touched her ears, her breath seemed to come with more ease. Like a weight had been pulled off of her chest. That is, before she remembered her cousin’s comment from earlier.

“Aemond told you everything about what happened?”

“Most everything. We are each other’s closest friend.” Helaena gave her an unreadable look.

“I still cannot fathom it. I feel so rotten inside. I cannot show my face at court ever again. I am a disgrace.”

“Maetilda, no one shall ever know. No one saw you.”

“He drew a rune on me in blood, Helaena. My handmaids saw it while I was dressing.”

“He drew it in blood?”

“Yes! I don’t know what it meant. ‘Wiped it away before I got a good look at it.”

“Was it yours? Did he hurt you?”

“I… never… felt a cut. ‘Haven’t found one yet either.”

“Aemond would not hurt you.”

“You said he told you of our evening! How much did he truly tell you?” Maetilda crossed her arms.

“I did not ask for every detail.” Helaena attempted a giggle before clearing her throat, “Your handmaids likely have not kept this knowledge to themselves.”

“I begged their mercy. But gold coins are worth more than tears.”

“True.” The younger nodded, “Perhaps the gold should come from you then.”

“I have none.”

“Aemond does.”

“You suggest I ask him for coins to pay off my maids?”

“Precisely! He is to be your husband after all. It is his duty to protect you.”

The princess-by-title felt her back straighten with an unusual wave of confidence, “Yes, you are right. It is. Perhaps we should visit Aemond after all.”

“Yes, let us go! You shall have plenty more time to stay cooped up in this room. Aemond was going to go riding this afternoon.”

“Riding?” Maetilda gasped, perking up even more.

“Vhagar must stretch her old bones.” Helaena giggled again.

“Let us make haste then.” 

Throwing on her traveling cloak, fighting off the flashbacks the fabric gave her, the princess-by-title did not ask another question before she was pulling her cousin out of the room. Large grins on their faces, the two scurried down to the training yards with Ser Gunthor a few steps behind them. The princess-by-birth’s giggles carried throughout the corridors. The cousins walked hand-in-hand, fingers linked, just as they did as girls. Practically skipping, the younger took the lead. The light of her smile radiated out even more. Suddenly, the wide expanse of an emptier keep did not seem so dreary.

Down the stairs, through a corridor, across a landing the older did not recognize, through another mysterious corridor, and down several more flights of stairs. Maetilda was shocked when her cousin pulled her through a door and out onto the grounds. Very close to the training yards. Even closer to the front gates, where she should have bid her family a safe journey the day before. Guilt weighed down on the princess-by-title’s shoulders, it made her stomach bubble with nausea. She spent so much time fretting over whether or not they hated her, whether or not they would ever forgive her, when she already knew the answer. What had she done to earn their love and forgiveness? They would be foolish to take her back. Unaware of the other’s inner turmoil, Helaena simply continued smiling.

“Sunny day!” The younger chirped.

Looking up, only to be blinded by the big star itself, the older nodded in agreement, “I had not yet noticed.”

“I quite like the sun.”

“The two of you are one in the same.” Maetilda lightheartedly remarked.

Helaena giggled, “Have we already found my brother?” 

“Suppose we should stop our search!” The older shrugged innocently.

“Nonsense!” The younger smirked. “Where should we start?”

“The training yards lead to the Dragonpit, yes?”

“That is one direction to take.”

“There is another?”

Helaena giggled harder. “Of course!”

Of course, there would be. Maetilda thought to herself. With all the different passages throughout the castle, the city itself was likely the same. It would be absurd to only have one path that led to the Dragonpit. Perhaps she was as thick-headed as her father thought.

Helaena grabbed hold of both Maetilda’s hands before she spoke, “Should we try the stables first?”

The older immediately nodded her head, “Would you lead the way?”

From behind them, Ser Gunthor cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Princesses. I believe the Prince has already found you.”

The two cousins spun around in opposite directions until they each found the man in question. He took long purposeful strides, eye locked on his target destination. His hair floated behind him in the wind of his own speed. He was dressed in a cloak and riding leathers, ready to mount Vhagar at a moment’s notice. Wherever she was. Linking their elbows together, Helaena eagerly led Maetilda to meet him in the middle. Ser Gunthor followed behind with a menacing swagger in his step and an arm casually draped on the hilt of his sword. A soft warning to the Prince to be on his best behavior.

“Helaena, where is your guard?” Aemond asked as soon as they were close enough to have a private talk.

“We have Ser Gunthor with us!” The princess-by-birth replied innocently.

“That is my intended’s guard, dear sister. Where is your guard?”

“With the children.”

“Right,” He nodded with a frustrated sigh, “What brings the two of you out here?”

“You.” Helaena smirked.

Maetilda answered simultaneously, “Are we not allowed to be outside?”

“Funny! I was just beginning to believe you were locked in your chambers, Princess.”

The princess-by-title froze, utterly shell shocked at the fact that he seemed to know where she had and had not been. “Why do you say that?”

“I went down to the gates yesterday to bid your family a safe journey home. Mother and Helaena did too. You, however, were noticeably absent.”

“Yes, I… I had a hard morning.”

“Your siblings refused to speak to me. Except Joffrey.”

“They are upset with the both of us.”

“We have done nothing wrong.”

“I have.” Maetilda shook her head, “I shouldn’t have fought with my sister like that.”

“No, ñuha dōna, you were right to defend me.” (my sweet)

“Fighting was not the answer. For any of us. We should all be shackled and locked in the same room until our differences are settled.”

“Shall we do so before or after the wedding?” Aemond snarked.

“They shall come back before then. My brothers, at least.”

“I have nothing to say to them.”

The future couple stared each other down, a duel of intense glares. Each refusing to be the first to cave. Ser Gunthor and Princess Helaena were left to stand and watch as the moment dragged on. The prince and princess were both as stubborn as the other. It was an infamous Targaryen trait they both shared.

“If you care for me, you care for them too. It would do you good to remember that.”

“If you care for me,” His eye burned with a passionate fire, “You will not allow them to make a fool of me — of us — any further.”

“The only fool I know wears a hat with bells.”

“You jest enough, I should have one made in your size.” He crossed his arms, “It would suit you.”

“Have it made for me so that it may become yours once we are wed? That is the way you wish to have things, is it not?” The princess-by-title smirked, knowing how the deeper meaning behind her words would cut through the prince’s armor easier than butter. “How clever of you.”

Helaena giggled as Aemond sucked his teeth and laughed incredulously. He glanced about the grounds as if looking for an audience. “Any other man would have the intelligence to not take a woman who tempts fate to wife.”

“I cannot bear to witness this any longer!” Helaena interjected.

Ser Gunthor stifled a grunt behind them. A reaction that the princess wished she had made. It was not she who wished to tempt fate. He needed an accomplice in his crimes.

“My apologies, dear sister.” Aemond turned to look pointedly at Helaena, “I hope we have not made you uncomfortable.”

“Only slightly.” The princess-by-birth nodded.

“What brings you both to find me? Truly.”

The two princesses shared glances back and forth, unsure who should explain. Maetilda ventured a peek at her knight to find him watching their conversation intently. She wondered if he had any inkling of something being amiss. She wondered if he could tell something was different about her. His face did not give much away. Regardless, the princess-by-title’s skin crawled. The night she shared with the prince was burnt onto the back of her eyelids. Her thoughts all wandered back to that night. That cursed night, him, the rune, the consequences. She couldn’t escape any of it. 

“We wish to speak with you.” Helaena finally answered.

“Speak with me? Now?” The prince seemed shocked, “Vhagar is hungry.”

Maetilda’s eyes timidly flicked between her cousins. Wanting to escape the conversation and any ramifications that came with it, her mouth moved before her brain had given it permission. “Go then. You mustn’t let her go hungry.”

The siblings shared a confused look. Aemond took a second a moment to give his betrothed’s traveling cloak another once over. His weight shifted from one foot to the other. “Come with me?”

The princess-by-title could not help the smirk that spread across her face. “I rode her long before you did.”

“You rode with Lady Laena?” The princess-by-birth smiled.

“All over Essos. Well, not everywhere. We hadn’t made it as far east as father originally planned.” A sorrowful longing added to the ever present guilt that weighed down her insides. Vhagar was a bittersweet memory.

Aemond chuckled before offering out his arm for his betrothed to take, “The game we have fenced up in the Kingswood is not quite as exciting as Essos, but I would love to reunite two old friends.”

Helaena’s face lit up like a spark. “Ser Gunthor? Would you take me to my mother’s solar?”

Shockingly, the sworn knight immediately tried to decline. His head already shaking no. But the princess-by-title cleared her throat. “Ser Gunthor, please see Helaena to where she needs to go and meet us back at the Dragonpit.”

The knight’s body went rigid, his face screamed all sorts of obscenities. Yet not a single dissenting word left his mouth. “As you wish, princess.”

Without much word of fair departure, the unnatural pairings went their separate ways. As feather-light as a sprite in the wind, Helaena floated off back toward the castle with her cousin’s sworn night trailing behind her. It was weird for the princess-by-title to see her knight walk off without her, without leaving another knight in his place. Instead she was left with her betrothed. Unchaperoned. Alone with Aemond again. 

Arm-in-arm, the prince led them off in the direction of the stables. “Shall we have a carriage dressed for you?”

“We cannot ride horseback to the Dragonpit?”

Aemond chuckled, “It would be unbecoming for the princess to be seen riding as a man through the capital.”

His words sat funny in her gut. He only seemed to care for her reputation when it best suited him. Where was this care when they were alone on the balcony? Perhaps he knew what he was doing. Perhaps through his lifetime spent within the greenish-red walls, he had learned exactly where to place his feet to avoid the lingering booby traps. She hoped for the latter.

“And if I rode as a woman?” The princess probed.

“That is for our wedding night.” He laughed again.

Maetilda promptly dropped his arm, “Despicable.”

“It was only a joke!” Aemond exclaimed, feigning innocence. “I shall fetch some Kingsguard.”

And he did so immediately. A party of four mounted white cloaks and a horse-drawn carriage were assembled quicker than she ever thought possible. Closed roof, so that they could not be seen from the outside, but the Kingsguard on horseback at each flank would give their presence away regardless. Made of a glossy dark wood, the carriage was far nicer than the one she had arrived in. Black, red, and green dragon brocade curtains framed each window. Aemond held her hand steady as she stepped inside to find the same brocade fabric duplicated on the seats and the ceiling. Nonchalantly, he slipped into the carriage after her. Closing the door behind him. Yet again, they were left unchaperoned. As if forever coated in dried mud, the ever present itch across her skin only seemed to get worse. 

“Aemond!” The princess hissed.

“Yes?”

“We are alone!”

The prince smugly smiled from his place on the opposite bench, “We are. As we shall be alone on dragonback.”

“You wish for the servants to whisper. You wish for my virtue to be questioned.” The princess narrowed her eyes.

“Of course not, ñuha dōna. I want a good wife.” (my sweet) 

“A good wife would have shunned you from her chambers if you came to her before her wedding night.”

“That is different.”

“How? Tell me.”

“Because you—“ He looked down to his lap for a moment before looking back up at her more confidently, “You could not help but surrender to your own destiny.”

The princess crossed her arms over her chest, “That is not how I remember it.”

“No?” He gasped.

“If following my destiny feels like making a grave mistake, then…”

“What? Then what? Do not tell me you wish to call off the wedding now. What should be left of your good name after that?”

“You twist my words.”

“Tell me what you want. Tell me what upsets you.”

“You upset me. I want you to promise not to ruin my name.”

“What tells you I shall ruin anything?”

The princess’s mouth hung open gobsmacked, “Take a look at us!”

He rolled his eyes. “You worry too much.”

An angry, stubborn silence fell between them. Maetilda’s skin continued to itch in a way that seemed to gnaw at her. The carriage jostled them slightly as its wheels rolled over the stone streets of the city. The hustle and bustle lining their path filled any sort of silence they would have had inside the castle walls. Children’s laughter, merchants advertising prices, the hum of chatter. It sent a buzz through her bones. A peaceful, calming buzz, like the rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Listen, I am sorry.” Aemond finally conceded.

“Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm.”

“You do not believe me?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes again, “Of course.”

“You think I am craven?” Came Maetilda’s quiet challenge.

“Slightly,” He nodded.

“Because I fear what could happen?”

“A craven fears the future. A wise man prepares for it. Does he not?”

“What future do you prepare for?”

“The one where their jabs and laughter turn to fire and blood.”

“Who are they?”

Almost confused, the prince shook his head, “You do not know?”

“Do you mean my siblings?”

“Of course,” He deadpanned, “But not just them.”

Maetilda crossed her arms, subtly scratching at her them as she turned to look out the window instead of at her betrothed. With a nearly inaudible scoff, Aemond did the same, making sure to stare out the opposite window. Despite the noise outside and the jostle of the carriage, the two remained as silent and as still as stone statues for the remainder of their journey.

A/N: you know when you know you’re in deep shit, but you can’t yet fathom just how deep that shit runs? yeah? maetilda’s there.

the next chapter is in the oven! it may take a bit longer because the next few chapters are more show related and i will need to go back and review said episodes again. the new season has really been lighting a fire under my ass though!! it’s giving me lots of new inspiration for where this train is headed!! thank you for continuing to read it!

TAGLIST: @marvelescvpe @nessjo

[minweber]

The thing about Watchers of the Throne books is that I found them at best moderately interesting while reading through them, but have since thought about their contents much more often than such review would suggest.

It comes down, rather unsurprisingly, to the main characters. Valerian and Aleya are great! Each is interesting to read about solo and they have a great dynamic when put together... It’s a real shame then, how little of them as a duo we actually get. Makes me wish that the whole Tieron/Jek/High Lords/Terran perspective on the historic events thing - which actually is also great! - was its own separate book, while these two starred in a different, smaller scope story.

But the part that really makes me come back is how appealing I find both Valerian and Aleya as windows into mentality of their respective orders. The way they think, act and react gels really well with the way I want to see Custodes and Sisters portrayed - so much so, in fact, that it's almost a shame that both of them are presented as something of deviants within their factions.

Valerian's calm and pleasant, but somewhat detached manner is a great way to portray these nigh-immortal superhumans, I think! Competent and well-meaning, but so far removed from the humans they interact with, that they aren't capable of fully understanding some of their emotions and motivations.

One of my favorite bits of the first book is when Aleya takes her frustrations with custodians' inaction out on Valerian and accuses him of not caring about humans and their lives by mentioning her homeworld and going "Oh, I bet you've never even heard about it". Not wanting to antagonize her, Valerian doesn't object, but in his head begins to reflexively recount a whole ass wikipedia article on the place, to a level of detail that suggests that he probably knows more information about it and its history than Aleya herself. What a delicious moment! Both refuting and supporting her sentiment - clearly this sort of detached, "academic" knowledge does not infer the kind of caring she meant... but it does infer some kind of caring. Even with a magic brain of a custodian, taking time to study something, learn about it in detail, put in effort - it all implies care for the subject - possibly a huge amount of it, depending on the perspective.

And I really like that! For a setting so obsessed with trans- and post- humanism, warhammer - in my whiny opinion - doesn't seem to delve enough into the way its supposedly hyperevolved superhumans would think. More often that not the depiction of what is supposed to be this whole other mode of human existence is limited to a character being super smart while offscreen and having very hightened, operatic emotions while onscreen.

And on one hand - it is very understandable why it ends up this way. All stories we tell - be their subjects talking objects or space supersoldiers - are, at least in some way, about human condition. So distancing your characters from it may seem counterproductive to telling a good story. But on the other hand - surely there exists enough variance in this incredibly vague term to justify broader exploration and departures? I found Valerian's way of thinking and caring to be a refreshing and interesting character trait. But could it mean something more, be more relatable perhaps, to someone neurodivergent? Or just someone otherwise different from me?

What I am trying to say is that I believe that leaning into exploration of what various "modified" ways of human thinking and perception might look like, is not only worthwhile as a tool for creating better fantasy stories - but also a generally useful literally tool that can help one deepen their understanding of others.

Aleya's side of the story actually feeds into it as well, though, I believe, a bit differently. Where the entertaining thing about Valerian is often how unconscious he is of his differences from those he interacts with, Aleya overcompensates in the other direction. She seems to be very acutely aware of how her condition makes her different from regular humans, and constantly runs her perception of the world through that filter, noting that several times throughout the books how her opinions or reactions are different to those a regular human would have in the same situation.

There are the fairly objective consequences of her powers, like most humans being uncomfortable around her, or her perceiving daemons and all their activity drastically differently. But she also notes herself as being less emotional than humans (which further reading... puts in question) as well as often unable to understand their motivations (which is very much a thing that very regular humans do as well). And while entirely possible as consequences of whatever pariahs' condition in warhammer is supposed to be, it is also tempting to say that it may have much more to do with her self-perception and upbringing. And that, in turn, poses a question about the source of otherness in general - we've all felt alienated at one or another point in our lives, but how much such feeling are to be trusted? When do they come from within and when without? When do we fight them, and when do we embrace them?

Anyway, the books are fine. I am normal about them. They kill a few Minotaurs in there.

[eriexplosion]

Cut for fandom salt

The reason I get so heated about the 'Is Tech Alive/Dead' discourse is that like. It is very hard for me to explain just how pissed I would be if he was dead. Not because 'oh no a thing happened in the show that I didn't like' I'm in my fucking thirties I've dealt with shows making stupid decisions before. It's what a permadeath here in particular would mean with everything surrounding it.

It's starting a series based around getting you to want a family to reunite just to pull the rug out 2/3rds in and say 'lol dumbass they were never going to reunite.' All those themes of family and needing it to be complete? Never meant anything.

It's building up a character, intentionally making sure he's read as neurodivergent in a very clear and confirmed way, giving him multiple plotlines, and then cutting them all off without finishing any of them by taking two episodes to set up a mission that has zero plot purpose except to kill him off and then say Oh well it's stakes and consequences there had to be a price to pay for... trying to reunite the family and save their brother I guess. How dare they.

It's providing zero confirmation in story on the death, spending months upon months saying shit like 'he doesn't come back in this episode at least' and 'this was the end of mine - and that's a good thing!' and 'if you could only see who's on my screen' knowing that there's a large portion of fans genuinely upset by his death, using social media pretty much exclusively to rub our faces in the scene, and then turns out they were just stringing everyone along the whole time, he really was dead, the lack of confirmation in episode meant nothing, us playing coy and dropping hints for ten months meant nothing, fuck you for giving a shit.

It's setting up a story where the clones could be more than soldiers and then abruptly cutting it off and going on and on about how wonderful it is that he died self sacrificing as a soldier and it's what any clone would want, because this show about how all clones are individuals is actually about how they're all interchangeable and any clone would want the same thing.

It's that if Tech is dead there is not a single piece of the show, a single interaction with the fans since it happened, a single anything from anybody involved that was not set up to make ND people hope (or god forbid even feel some kind of acceptance at seeing a neurodivergent character getting treated seriously) string them along, and then punish them for it so that everyone else can coo about how mature and bold it was to kill off the autistic guy for shock value. And then they don't even fucking address it the next season because ~oh there's just no time~

And I would really prefer if a show that I have loved almost every other aspect of, that has been genuinely well written and moving, didn't randomly decide to drop every single piece of their writing ability in order to put out the most ambiguous death scene ever, fuck with their audience for ten months, and then shit on them for caring.

[katboykirby]

Autistic Beel is very real to me personally, as an autistic person (special interest, not very expressionate, etc). I also very much agree with the Satan and Levi headcanons too.

Oh this is interesting because I don't think I've heard about an autistic! Beel HC before? Usually (in my experience anyway) it's autistic! Levi and very very occasionally autistic! Satan

Now, full disclosure that I'm not autistic myself, so any information I'm familiar with comes from research + the experiences of my irl partner, who got his autism diagnosis as an adult. (I do have ADHD and I know that there's some relation/overlap there, but I'd still trust the words and experiences of actual autistic people over my own)

And I can definitely see some aspects of autism in Beel! Like you said, he doesn't tend to show much of any particularly strong emotions, at least not openly or on the surface - he tends to keep a fairly flat expression (and his usual frown could be interpreted as the classic neurodivergent "resting bitch face" aha) and his voice clips reflect this as well - he's definitely not as affective as say, Mammon or Asmo! Beel is a lot more quiet than his brothers, on average. He's not really very emotive or expressive outside of specific or extreme situations. Although, I don't tend to go for the romantic options with him or read his personal Devilgram stories all that often (since I'm a Satanfucker) but I'm aware that he's usually more emotive in romantic moments with MC, or when things get tense/dramatic with his family.

Speaking of which, something that we do occasionally see is Beel losing his temper and becoming very angry - to the point that he loses control of himself and goes on rampages. The most significant examples of this in the main story would be Lessons 4 and 5 of the original game, when he flies into a rage over some custard and ends up destroying half of MC's room; and the whole plotline in Nightbringer revolving around Beel's rampage at the royal castle that almost resulted in Diavolo having to lock him up because of how much destruction he caused. I know that "autism rage" is pretty negatively stereotyped (unfairly so, in my opinion) but anger is definitely a real struggle for individuals with Autism Spectrum Disorders

The whole food thing is definitely interesting in this context as well (and I assume this is what you meant by "special interest?" Lmk if I'm wrong) because Beel is the complete opposite of the common autism stereotypes when it comes to food! We often see the idea of autistic individuals having a very limited scope of foods that they actually enjoy, because things like texture, flavour, and sensation are all very different and experienced in a different way than neurotypicals. Autistic individuals are stereotyped as "picky eaters" because it's common for them to have very specific "safe foods" and/or not enjoy very many exotic or strong flavours. Beel definitely does not have a problem with this, lmao. And we know that his love/obsession with all foods isn't something that came about just when he was made the Avatar of Gluttony, since he was a big food lover as an angel as well (though his eating habits, admittedly, weren't as extreme back then.) Interestingly, a lot of research shows that people with autism are more likely to struggle with binge eating disorder, which has some intriguing implications for Beelzebub 👀

It's entirely possible that exercise & working out and/or sports like Fangol could be special interests for him as well! Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that Beel has mentioned or alluded to feeling restless if he doesn't get at least one workout in every day, like he doesn't feel that his day is "complete" if he hasn't done his exercise routines. This could suggest that he experiences the common autism symptoms around adherence to routines and inflexibility when it comes to changing up his usual habits and activities 🤔

This reply has actually become pretty long, so I'll just stop myself here before I get carried away even further 😅

Overall, I think that there's definitely merit to autistic! Beel HCs, and I'm sure that people who are actually autistic and/or are big fans of Beel himself (and who would have read far more of his in-game content than I have, like his Devilgrams) would be able to go into even more detail than I have!

[bluedalahorse]

Public perceptions of Sara as a neurodivergent in love

As far as Sara’s romance arc goes in Young Royals, something I’ve thought a lot about is how there’s this ableist tendency to infantilize autistic people, and part of this ableist infantilization comes down to downplaying or ignoring or erasing autistic people’s sexualities. Luckily, there’s more shows recently that have pushed back against that in some form—Everything’s Gonna Be Okay and Heartbreak High being among them. (Everything’s Gonna Be Okay even has an ace autistic character to nuance things all the more.) Young Royals first and foremost pushes back by giving Sara a love story in her own right, full of as many ups and downs and complex turns of character that Wille and Simon’s relationship does.

There’s a second thing that I think might be going on, and it’s subtle enough to me that I want to see how season 3 plays out before I can say “this is for sure a thing that’s happening in the show.” And that is the way that other characters respond to Sara’s potential for romantic and sexual attraction, whether they’re downplaying it or actually seeing the reality of it. Now, Sara’s Manor House pals at least acknowledge her potential to feel attraction and be in a relationship, and that’s good, but it feels sort of… abstract? And while Sara does lack the experience the other girls have, they tend to presume a level of innocence and naïveté on her part that doesn’t quite match up with Sara’s more complicated reality. (Also, this may just be my bias speaking, but Fredrika’s comment about Sara’s virginity particularly grates on me. Fredrika plays it off as a compliment but I don’t think it’s meant to be kind.) Meanwhile, when it comes to Sara’s interactions with Simon, we see her teasing him about boys and boyfriends, but he doesn’t seem to respond to her in the same way. Not out of malicious intent I don’t think, but it was something I noticed in their interaction.

It also strikes me that Sara and August were in a secret relationship all season 2 and as far as we know so far, no one noticed. Neither of them is very subtle in how they’re texting the other one and they’re both always sneaking off “to go get a textbook” or whatever. Boys have walked by Sara as she’s walked through the halls of Forest Ridge dormitory. It wouldn’t be that hard to figure out! Felice lives with Sara and doesn’t suspect secret boyfriends or anything. I’m curious to see what the Hillerska rumor mill is like in season 3—whether anyone did pick up on the little sargust tryst like they did the wilmon one, or whether Hillerska students failed to notice because they don’t see Sara as being inherently connected to romance as someone like say, Felice is. Naturally Sara’s class background and gender play a role in that as well, but identities always interact and we can’t leave neurodivergence out of the equation.

We talk a lot about how Sara’s neurodivergence impacted the way she got into a relationship, mostly in terms of how her neurodivergent traits impact her sense of morality and the way she reads certain social signals. What I haven’t seen people talk about as much is how other people in her life perceive her neurodivergence and her capacity for romantic and/or sexual relationships. I’m curious, too, to know how intentionally the show is addressing this. As season 3 deals with the fallout of season 2, I wonder to what extent other characters might try to pigeonhole Sara as childlike or not in full understanding of her own feelings, as they try to make sense of what happened with Sara and August. And I wonder to what extent Sara will have to fight back and claim her own agency in relation to these feelings, even as she’s left this relationship behind.

What do you all think?

[ace-of-gay]

ok so Stucky’s little struggles with sensory issues & recently their hair has been bothering them because the length is causing the hair to touch their neck & shoulders. so Stucky takes them to get their hair cut at a salon. this causes a tantrum because salons can be very overwhelming. Stucky of course isn’t mad at their little because they understand that it is just too much sensory stimulation for their little & it’s hard to process that especially in little space. afterwards, their little feels so much better with their haircut.

I just had to do this over the weekend. I have thick curly hair & especially with what I do, it was beginning to become too much. it was hard to manage, causing sensory issues, & giving me gender dysphoria. I actually cut it myself because I’m a broke college student 😂 it didn’t turn out too bad. it is definitely shorter than I intended but it’s just hair & it’ll grow back so it doesn’t bother me.

anyways I would love to see you write this

💖

Too long

Stucky x little neurodivergent reader

Word count: 1,506 words.

Warnings: Reader is sensory averse, mentions of barbershops, scissors, slight meltdown'ish behavior, sensory issues, hair combing/ brushing meaning physical contact, etc.

Age regression is a coping mechanism, if your not knowledgeable and uncomfortable of the topic either read up on it or ignore please <3

No gender, weight, ethnicity or hair type mentioned, reader is at least slightly able bodied in this

Gn reader

90% edited to the best of my ability

Dont like it dont read it especially when theres warnings

It’d been a year and a half of you letting your hair grow out, the goal was a year potentially two if it wasn’t too bad but your hair grows fast and the weight of it being different now from when you had it cut is definitely a feeling that can make you turn on goals.

You made the goal a week after the haircut having already forgotten the burden of it touching your neck and covering your ears.

Hats were now impossible unless you tied it up but than there’d be an uneven feeling against the top of your head and that was not a desired sensation you’d wish to put yourself through.

There weren’t any safe hairstyles that you were able to comfortably do without them tugging on sections or it feeling uneven no matter the help you got from either of your carers.

Steve at shield for a business related event meant you were left with Bucky for the day, he tried his best to implement brushing your hair as a routine part of your day but the tug and pull hurt so had you’d whimper and writher in your spot if someone was brushing it for you often leading to you getting upset and telling them they’re doing it wrong even though they were just as gentle as you were, you would take over and do your very best but no matter how easy it was to get the brush through your hair it still hurt and the bristles and teeth of brushes and combs hurt so bad and felt like rakes in you scalp, currently you were sitting on the counter top infront of the mirror as Bucky carefully brushed and combed your hair.

Your face turned down in a winced frown, tears threating to spill from your glossy eyes, "bubby please stop, hurts bad, i try now" you whimpered trying your very best to keep from taking your painful frustration out on him, he could hear you slipping, "alrighty little bee, I’m going to make a snack for us, ill be right back, just shout of you need me"

you hated brushing your hair so much that you would help Bucky with his so he wouldn't feel the pain you felt.

It was always such an intimate and gentle thing for him, on stressful days where he felt stuck in a mindset that wasn't comfortable he would ask if you’d like to help him do his hair, often leading to him sitting on the floor in front of you how you do with him, carefully working your way through his hair.

He refrained from telling you that the pain and discomfort was probably just a sensory issue possibly allodynia, he feared if you knew it would make you feel lonely and not understood in the struggle.

Gliding the brush through your hair it would get through but it was a struggle.

Once so far into the struggle and pain it became a ticking time bomb for lashing out, a grumble as you tug one last time with no success, you take the brush from your hair, a broken sob taking it in both hand "j-jus stop hurtin mee please hurts so bad i gon break you, i hate youu!" followed by you throwing the offending brush to the floor, getting down from the counter you open Steve and Bucky’s hair styling kit, taking out the scissors and grabbing a chunk of your hair.

Bucky heard the ruckus and knew what was coming, making his way to the bathroom as quickly as he could while keeping a calm composure, he wished with all his heart that he could help you how you do him.

rounding the corner into the bathroom to see you holding the scissors in one hand and some hair in the other, tears burning trails into your cheeks.

"Hey honey bee, lets not do that, sharp objects are dangerous, can you please hand me the scissors precious? "Your  trembly little hands slowly move to carefully hand Bucky the scissors that he sets aside out of reach, pulling you into a hug.

"I know it hurts baby, do you want to research some sensory friendly hairstyles and talk to Stevie about going to the barber tomorrow?  Does that sound okay?"

Reluctantly nodding into his chest he places a feather light kiss to the top of your head, you definitely weren't paying complete attention because normally you wouldn't even consider the barber shop but he carries on for the time being, picking you up taking you to relax in the living room, no more brushing for today.

Steve waking in you hurriedly set your sippy down to go greet him at the door, bouncing on your toes waiting for him to take off his jacket and set his keys down, with every bounce you could feel the ends hit the sides of your face, neck, and your ears, quickly shaking your head to get the feeling to stop and you halt your excited stim, "dada i get haircut tomorrow please?" Still having convinced yourself that its an at home haircut.

Bucky had already briefed him on the decisions of today and the hope for tomorrow over text, also letting him know that youre not exactlyaware it was for a barbershop haircut but alas it was necessary.

"I don’t see why not little bee, has bubby helped you decide what style you want?" Nodding you take his hand pulling him to the couch to show him the picture Bucky saved.

The next day came quickly with you excited for your sensory freedom from pain and discomfort, it finally dawned on you where youre getting the haircut because of your comfort stuffy being safely tucked away in your bag, your hand in both Bucky’s and Steve’s about to walk out of the house when you stopped, terror in your eyes, they dont let go but instead hold slightly tighter onto your hands for what came next, you dropped all of your weight to the floor, there was no way a stranger in a loud building was getting near you with a pair of scissors.

Managing to tear your hands from theirs you sprint off to your playroom hiding in the back of your closet with your comfort stuffie.

They knew this was coming, its no suprise youre terrified,  you only ever acted out when you were uncomfortable or scared so soothing you was the bis step "Baby i know you dont like salons, i promise daddy wouldn't take you to a bad place, its a sensory safe salon, no music, just us and two workers, does that sound okay?" Bucky soothed through the door It honestly did, it sounded much better than a normal barber shop.

you wearily walk into the hair salon for your appointment and like bucky had stated it was a very sensory safe environment which relieved some of the worry.

Being called over you sit in the chair as Bucky shows the hairdresser your choice Steve hands you your comfort stuffie "youre okay baby, i know its scary but we'll be just over there and we wont let anything bad happen to you" you nod and take a few breaths with him and than heads back over to the wait area.

"Quite the change, you’re gonna look amazing, the stylist cheers"

Going forth and doing your hair as decided the stylist makes sure to be as gentle as possible, knowing that your hair is an issue for you she makes the haircut go as quick and smoothly as possible, last in the process she picks up the comb and in that moment you clench your eyes shut taking deep breaths, holding tightly onto your stuffy, the comb easily glides through your hair a breath of relief. the change brought you much comfort, your hair no longer touching you face, neck or ears, brushing no longer feeling like a metal hose clamp to its tightest position and ripping your hair from your delicate scalp, now it felt like nothing, it was perfect.

The hair stylist unclips the cape cover and lets you head over to you daddies, a big grin upon your face, you shake your head rapidly, it felt like wind in the trees, ease and comfort, Bucky went to pay while you show Steve your new hair, "you look so good little love", bucky joins you both with a smile, "you did so good baby im so proud of you".

Stepping out into the slight breeze it felt so good and freeing.

The next while would feel amazing, being able to go about your days with fewer stressors, Bucky loves seeing you start your days with less discomfort and irritation from your hair being an issue, in all aspects its just hair, it doesn't depict who you are its grows back and it can be once again cut, and when that time comes youre certainnext time wont be so scary now that youve found a safe place.

Thank you so much lovely for requesting such a wonderful idea, i really hope this does your idea justice <3

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Oddduck request - as a neurodivergent person who relates way too much to her,could I request her shutting down or trying to mask being “normal” on a bad day. Like I got told “no one likes loud hands” while stimming recently and now I’m constantly aware of it and it sucks. Just- oddduck losing her “sparkle” and Bruce immediately noticing and trying to reassure and help her

You could hear the fizz in the glass on the table but fuck if you could hear what anyone was saying. It was an indefinable mash of voices. Like trying to pick out ONE specific voice in a stadium of screaming fans.

Still. Some of your tricks still worked. No one tended to notice if you hung to the back, smiled, nodded, and generally didn't draw attention to yourself. 50 more minutes. That was 10 minutes five times. 25 minutes twice. Five minutes 10 times... You could do that right?

Maybe. But it was so loud, even your beloved rabbits had run for cover in the brush and there wasn't a single fluffy tail to chase. A thread to follow to lessen the load.

You glanced up at the clock and took a deep breath, feeling like your lungs were scraping the insides of your ribs and trying not to wince. Parties were hell today apparently. Even a nice polite reception for a symposium where people talked in nice tones and there wasn't so much bass in the air it felt like your bones were going to dissolve.

50 minutes. 50 more minutes and you could hail a cab. Escape into the crisp air and crunch your way through the fresh powder snow to somewhere less ungodly fucking bright-

____________

Bruce watched you hang near the edges. There was a muscle ticking in your neck from the pressure you were putting on your jaw and he wasn't entirely sure if you were angry or about to be sick.

And it made his own jaw ache in sympathy.

From the minute you had walked into the room, you'd been- not yourself. Or at least, not the you he'd come to love so much. The font of weird little facts. The patroness of forgotten historical figures. The sole teller of tales half-remembered. You were the reclusive author of books people claimed to have read. The public face of the aloof, eccentric author. And it hurt in a way he didn't know how to describe.

Worse. He didn't know what to do. HIS public face meant media attention. It meant throngs of people who wanted to speak to him- and if he just walked over and plucked you out of your corner, people were going to want to talk to you. And that, he didn't think, was anything you wanted.

A shy little boy at a coffee shop asking you to sign his book was one thing. Throngs of frothing elites wanting you to be clever on demand were another.

Still. He had concerns that you might actually crack a tooth grinding your jaw if he didn't do something. And he'd only just gotten Clark to stop glaring at him any time you were mentioned- if he didn't return you home in MINT condition, even if he'd just shown up where you happened to be, he didn't doubt he'd be in for it. And sure. He had the jewelry to handle it but- he'd rather that stay locked up.

He waited a moment until the couple he was talking to found someone less distracted and mae his escape, weaving easily through the crowd and picking up another drink on the way, taking a sip.

Sure. He wasn't drunk but- if he staggered enough. Looked like he was making a fool of himself hopefully, people would be too busy watching the show to get closer. Wanting to see how the Ice Princess in the corner would handle Gotham's favorite son at his least polished.

He situated himself in front of you and leaned on the wall, making sure to keep his hands to himself as he draped himself on a column and looked down at you, "Doing okay?"

"Fine," you answer, giving him a wan imitation of the smile he loved so much.

"You're grinding your teeth."

You quirk an eyebrow at him and he smiled a little, "There's a muscle twitching in your neck," he explained. "So you're either about to have a stroke or you're grinding your teeth. And your color is too good for it to be a stroke."

The confused blinking makes him stop. He'd heard Clark once say you were "buffering" making that face. Struggling to process a piece of information and he held out a hand. "C'mon," he said, "Tell me about a rabbit hole?"

"But-"

"I'm bored," he said simply, winking at you. "If anyone asks you can just tell them I asked about Jepp. Or that you thought I was gonna pass out or-"

When your hand slides into his he stops and squeezes gently. "Just get me out of here. Please?"

"Where do you want to-"

"Just not here."

And Bruce doesn't need telling twice. He just leads you out the nearest exit and wraps his jacket around you. Anything to make your voice stop sounding like that. So small and frail. "I think I know just the place, Doctor," he said, squeezing you against his side like he'd seen Clark do before. Hoping that the pressure would help instead of make it worse. He didn't really know what to do, but at least the muscle in your neck stopped ticking.

[kaija-rayne-author]

Is Solas neurodivergent?

Of course, unless Weekes confirms one way or another, we'll never actually know. But I'd like to point out a few things.

Firstly. I'm autistic/ADHD, so are my kids and I've been an advocate for invisible disabilities, especially those two, for almost a decade now.

I offer an option on my Patreon for parents (or even just people) who need or want advice.

I have a little bit of a clue here. (More like a massive clue by nuke, but I digress 🤣.)

Why I code Solas from Dragon Age: Inquisition as neurodivergent.

1. Mentally ill fits under the neurodivergent (ND) umbrella. There's no way on Thedas that Solas isn't mentally ill.

(Yes, it really does fit. I'm not going to entertain arguments on the topic. It originally meant 'autistic' it no longer means that and hasn't for a long while. Neurodivergent brains = brains that work in any way other than 'the average'.) The antonym is Neurotypical. I tend to abbreviate them. Neurodivergent = ND, Neurotypical = NT.

At the very least, he likely has survivor syndrome. I'd wager on Depression and CPTSD too. (I have these conditions and am comfortable with saying he has a lot of the traits.) The guy was the leader of an enslaved elves rebellion and a war against the Evanuris. In his own words, he got his hands bloody.

No matter who you are, violence, whether you're the perpetrator or the victim, causes trauma to the psyche. And it went on for actual ages. An Age, in The Dragon Age franchise, is considered to be 100 years, so for hundreds of years, if not thousands, this dude has been fighting. Humans can get CPTSD just from a bad childhood. There's no way he hasn't developed it too.

Survivor syndrome is the response of a person when they believe they have done something wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not, often feeling self-guilt. (Can we classify Solas clearly with this? Yes, yes we can.)

He wakes up in a world so horrific to him that he can't even conceive of the people as people.

That's a type of disassociation, which is a symptom of many mental illnesses. Depression is the most obvious. He fucked up, he knows it, he's now trapped in a hellscape. (Heeee, we're all trapped in a dystopian hellscape right now and Depression is on the rise, the correlation is there.)

Disassociation is feeling disconnected from yourself and/or the world around you. For example, you may feel detached from your body or feel as though the world around you is unreal.

There could be a few other things there. He'd be a classic case for Disassociative Identity Disorder, for instance, but given the shit rep on the topic, I'm not going there.

2. ADHD

ADHD is still not very well understood by the average person. Sometimes people think it means we can't hold still. But a lot of the time, the H-Hyperactivity portion is only evident in our brains. For me, for instance, I have to constantly be feeding my brain written stuff or I get very antsy and uncomfortable. (ADD no longer exists, we're all ADHD now.) It's why i developed the habit of reading encyclopedias for fun. (Yes, I really do this.)

Solas is constantly reading, or studying, or thinking.

He shows a pretty typical type of temper for an ADHDer several times. Our tempers can be hot, flaring up suddenly for seemingly unexpected reasons. He absolutely does that. Now, there's always a reason for it, but few people on the outside of us will be aware of whatever the issue is.

ADHDers can also experience incredibly fast (compared to neurotypicals) shifts in emotion. Solas does this. Especially in the after the well of sorrows/pre-breakup scene and the break up scene itself. He see-saws emotionally a lot.

He's incredibly creative. He paints (and probably draws at least a little to paint the way he does). So many neurodivergent people are incredibly creative.

Snark. Many ADHDers tend to be snarky or sarcastic because of, well, everything that usually happens to us in life. The snark and salt simply spill out of Solas. Especially on the 'make him hate you' route through the game. Or any time he's around Vivienne.

Finally, ADHDers very frequently have a deep seated drive to change the world and make it better. Stares at Solas. Yup!

3. Autistic

So, firstly, let me say that most people don't understand what autism is or what autistics look and act like.

As an autistic/ADHD person, my experience of life is completely different from a neurotypicals simply because my brain is wired differently.

Reminder that you can't see autism or ADHD. You can sometimes see common comorbids, but without a brain scan, you cannot see autism or ADHD.

I connected and empathize so heavily with Solas because he's a well written, complex character, and because I love anti-heros.

But also because he's exhibits the exact same type of autistic/ADHD traits that I have. (Both autism and ADHD come in different flavours.) Seeing that rep in a triple AAA game was an incredibly powerful experience.

Even though, given Bioware's absolutely shit rep re: disability, it had to be accidental. I credit Weekes with that rep. I read on Twitter they were recently dxd with one or the other (ADHD or Autism, I honestly can't remember which. And up to 80% of ADHDers are also autistic.)

Solas practices esoteric arts. It's a common thing for many autists & ADHDers to learn and practice arts that just aren't as common anymore. Mine? I spin with a spinning wheel, drop spindle, or Andean hand spinner. I make maps. There's several other strange hobbies and skills I've picked up along the way too.

He shows hyperfocus several times in the game. (Hyperfocus is a trait of both ADHD and Autism.)

He stims with his hands a lot. Especially in the kiss scene. I don't recall seeing any of the other characters do this. I'm not talking about the 'dry hand wash' movements most of the characters do. Solas does a thing I do, taps the tips of his fingers against each other. Whoever did his modelling (is that the right term for making a game character?) understood neurodivergency or are ND themselves. Whether they know it or not.

You could even call his painting a type of stimming.

Stimming is where someone will use repetitive motions or sounds to self-soothe. It's really bad to prevent an autistic/ADHDer from using their stims.

I used to have to have a book on my person at all times. I'm late diagnosed, so I didn't know I was using the books as both a stim and a comfort item.

Solas has something autists call 'flat face effect'. Basically, his face is a bit masklike. He doesn't show emotions strongly on his face or in his body language (unless you make him angry 😅 which is also pretty typical for many of us). I've seen rather a lot of discourse about how emotionless Solas appears. I can read him easily, the emotive cues are there, just subtle, like they would be in an autistic & or ADHD person.

He's a decent actor. Now, most autists will agree that we're not innately good at lying or acting. But we're also really good at acting, at least, many of us are by the time we're adults. It comes from having to mask (autistic masking) almost every second of every day just to survive. Masking kills us. So it's not good that we are forced to do it. But it does make many of us incredible actors.

Anthony Hopkins is argueably one of the best actors of the past several decades. He's openly autistic. And he's spoken of how he got to be a good actor. Dan Ackroyd and Darryl Hannah are a couple of others who are out about it. I code a lot of other creatives as being one or the other, but it’s considered rude to assign a diagnosis like that to a living person. That's for them to do.

Solas managed to stay hidden as a 'unwashed apostate hobo' for however long the Inquisition took to fix things. I've seen estimates of 18 months to 2 years. That's a looooong time to be acting like something you're definitely not.

We see in Trespasser that he's not like that at all. But he still sold it so well his reveal at the end of the game shocked many people.

He's a nerd. An absolute nerd about the fade. Nerdery isn't solely the domain of autistics and ADHDers, but it’s a really common trait.

He's stand-offish.

Many autists and ADHDers are rather stand-offish with people for a variety of reasons.

1) We've been hurt so many times because of people refusing to do half the work of communicating with us. (Trust me, autistics and ADHDers are trying ALL THE TIME to communicate with neurotypicals. Y'all could pick up your part of things, y'know?)

2) We've been rejected so often for a genetic condition(s) we can't change. But accommodations for us, which are usually pretty simple and often help neurotypical people too, are considered 'too much'. There's something called RSD that most, if not all, autistic and ADHD folks experience. Rejection Sensitivity Disorder is a bitch kitty and there's no dealing with it well. It hurts.

3) We're often stand-offish while we try to figure out whatever social rules exist in that space/time. We often warm up when we know (or think we know) the rules. Or once we get to know people.

4) Solas is often alone, he's rarely pictured as being with anyone else other than Cole and the Inquisitor. NDs often end up either pushed to the edge of the crowd, or we choose to stay distant as a preventative measure so we aren't rejected.

Food sensitivities: Solas utterly loathes tea. There's a whole cutscene about it. (Fun fact, Solas doesn't like tea because Weekes doesn't.) But that extreme reaction to a relatively innocuous drink is a classic example of a food sensitivity. Most autistics and ADHDers have food or texture sensitivities or both. I can't abide raw tomatoes, and I'll get the urge to cry if I touch corduroy fabric.

Sensitivities can really be anything, but if you know someone who has them, please understand we're not trying to be difficult or to ask for extra attention or to make trouble. The modern world is frankly hell for most autistics and many ADHDers. Brain scans of us when we’re exposed to our sensitivities show that they actually are causing us physical pain. Pain centres in the brain light up like a Yule tree.

Solas is quiet, until he's not. Then he'll talk your ear off. This is pretty common for many of us too.

Solas and the fade. Special interest, anyone?

Special interests: Most autistics and ADHDers have Special interests. It's something that can utterly enthrall us. We tend to want to learn everything we possibly can about the subject we're fascinated with. And we love to share that information. In something called 'infodumping' we're trying to connect with other people. It's one of the ways many of us say we care about someone. By sharing our favourite things. We're also deeply penalized for something we can't change, there, too.

We deeply enjoy the thing and want to share our enjoyment with people we like/love. This can utterly backfire on us, but it doesn't change the urge to share. Often until our audience is giving us the 'dead fish face'. It's where the person's eyes are a little glazed over and they look a bit concussed. Anyone who has ever taught a class of students or is a parent or child caretaker, or is autistic/ADHD knows the look I'm talking about.

I'll stop blabbing for now, but those are most of the reasons I heavily code Solas as autistic/ADHD/mentally ill. Or, in another word. Neurodivergent.

Thanks for reading! If you have the wherewithal I'm a disabled mom of two disabled kids and a tip would help more than you can probably understand. Another way to help is to become a patron. My work of words is my only income and we live well under the poverty line. Like a lot of other neurodivergent people do.

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[mermaidsirennikita]

any recs with disabled heroines? Even with any scarring? I think I’ve read only a few both Lyndsay Sands and Cristina Dodd had a blind heroine (sands she’s not completely blind) and for scarring there Again the Magic (ult fav) and some Highlander book by Maya Banks. I was wondering if you knew anymore? We get varying heroes (though “plus sized” heroes are never written 😭) but never heroines.

You know what dude, this is a really good point. Why don't we see as many disabled heroines indeed. Lol I've never read a canonically bipolar heroine, fwiw.

(The answer is Bad.)

So, recs I have:

Charissa Weaks's excellent Witchwalker series, starting with The Witch Collector. There are several POVs and couples, but the MAIN MAIN heroine, Raina, does not speak with her voice. She was born that way, she speaks with sign language (the author, I believe, has a personal connection to sign at least) and it's a big part of the series, actually. I really like it, and one of the things that makes her have an initial connection with the hero, who she hates because of who he is, is that he can speak her specific sign language. So she knows someone she knows taught him.

The heroine of A Holly Jolly Ever After by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy has narcolepsy, which, among other things, has helped her parents have this kind of like... suppressive, really rough control over her. And the book is about her breaking out of that!

The Convenient Engagement by Emily K. Murdoch wasn't for me, but not because it was bad... The heroine in that book only has one hand. I believe she was born without the other.

The heroine of Lorraine Heath's The Outlaw and The Lady is blind. It's hugely plot important, actually. This book definitely has a very dated plot point, I will say, that I think was very well-intentioned for the time lmao but.... EEEEEEH. It's one of those books where I'm like, "Damn, this is well-written, but this one thing makes me not recommend it often". But otherwise it was very good.

Dearest Rogue by Elizabeth Hoyt has Phoebe, who is blind. Truly an excellent book, and if you read Maiden Lane you see Phoebe several times before her own book, and you see her progressive vision loss until she's where she is in this novel.

Get a Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert has a heroine who suffers from chronic pain. It's kept her from getting out there, until she's finally like "fuck it" and enlists her hot neighbor to help her.

The heroine of Kennedy Ryan's Reel has lupus, which I'm pretty sure she gets diagnosed with over the course of the book. It's pretty emotional, and I felt like it was handled well (as someone who doesn't have lupus, to be clear).

Highlander Most Wanted by Maya Banks (not the one you mentioned above lol, which is Never Seduce a Scot) has a scarred heroine. How she got her scar is very traumatic, so TWs all over for SA, but this was a really good hurt/comfort romance.

The Duke Redemption by Grace Callaway has a scarred heroine (it's a gender-flipped Beauty and the Beast book) but I'm not gonna lie... I get it... BUT HER SCAR DOESN'T SOUND THAT BAD LMAO

In terms of more chronic illness/federally recognized disability (in the US) content, the heroine of Love, Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood has diabetes, which is plot important.

Neurodivergent heroines:

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner has two heroines, one with ADHD and one with (as we later find out) autism.

Never Met a Duke Like You by Amalie Howard is a historical romance with a heroine who has ADHD, I think...? But it's not recognized in the moment, obvi. I THINK. It might've been the hero. I know it's one of them. Now I'm self-doubting.

A Jingle Bell Mingle by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy has a heroine with ADHD.

Act Your Age, Eve Brown by Talia Hibbert has an autistic heroine and an autistic hero.

The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang has an autistic heroine.

Hyacinth by S.M. LaViolette has a neurodivergent heroine who I BELIEVE is meant to be read as having autism (this is a historical and a favorite of mine).

Two Wrongs Make a Right by Chloe Liese. A contemporary Much Ado About Nothing retelling with a heroine on the spectrum. (The hero might be too, actually.)

[blueharborhq]

TERRY LOWENSTEIN is looking for their CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND / WORK PARTNER. For more details about the connection, read below!

BASIC INFORMATION

CHARACTER NAME — Terry Lowenstein.

CATEGORY — Professional/Platonic.

TYPE OF CONNECTION — Childhood best friend / work partner.

CONNECTION NAME — Luke, but UTP depending on ethnicity/racial background.

CONNECTION AGE — 50+.

SUGGESTED FACECLAIMS — Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Luke Kirby, Omar Sy*, Sendhil Ramamurthy, Idris Elba, Alexander Skarsgard, Keanu Reeves, Daniel Craig, Billy Crudup + any FC who fits the age range! Women/femme-presenting/nonbinary FCs may also be discussed if the vibes feel right, I’ve just resorted to calling them “Uncle Luke” lmao.

DESCRIPTION

( content warnings : parental death, financial insecurity, neurodivergence ) 

background

Your character would be Terry’s childhood best friend and work partner. I have three details set in stone for the character but the nuances of which are left UTP as listed below!

The first is that their families are friends and business partners. Terry’s father, the late Daniel Lowenstein, was from NYC and had a kosher meat business named Lowenstein & Sons (L&S). Your character’s father (who I’m imagining is from Illinois/Midwest OR the broader NY area) could’ve either struck a partnership with Daniel, either on the food production side (i.e., sourcing the meat from their farm) or the business expansion side (i.e., drafting contracts, procuring business deals, etc.). In either case, both families were lower-/middle-income families until L&S grew into a nationally recognized brand. The success meant that both families became wealthy around Terry’s generation but fielded criticisms of being nouveau riche from the more established, old moneyed folk.

Another non-negotiable is that Terry and your muse intersected in Columbia together as students. Terry went to nearby Barnard between 1989 to 1993. He could be either a few years older or younger, but it’s important they intersected during Terry’s last year of undergrad. Terry considers him as one of their few friends at the time bc both of them were a bit of outsiders looking in. Your character might’ve also been the first to recognize that Terry saw the world differently than others on account of their autism (but, perhaps, was never quite able to disclose to them — as it remained undiagnosed until they were 50 years old). 

The last: I’ve imagined him as someone who works in architecture or adjacent to the industry. He could be a fellow partner at their former architecture firm, which Terry headed until their retirement; an executive who worked with their firm for larger-scale projects that require interior design/urban planning/contracting/marketing; or a member of the firm’s broader corporate structure that handled its affairs (e.g., accountancy, HR, corporate counsel, etc.). TL;DR their jobs would’ve kept them at each other’s periphery in NYC throughout the decades. Both of them were involved in each other’s personal and professional lives, worked their way up together, and each of them understood the difficulties of moving through that world

Other parts of his backstory are ultimately UTP but I’ve got some scattered thoughts: (1) his personality as being a Little Fruity:™:  or at least had a personality that was very much the opposite of Terry’s, who was quiet and pragmatic; (2) had at least one failed marriage <3 #solidarity; (3) was the eldest in the family or had the most breadwinner energy among his siblings; and (4) also a bit of a fucking nerd when it comes to any of Terry’s special interests—architecture, birding, everyday carry 

potential connections/plots if you need any!

This connection comes with a few connections attached, especially Terry’s son, Micah (who calls him as Uncle Luke). Terry’s move to Blue Harbor in May 2024 was primarily motivated by Micah. They followed their son here just a month after they’d sent him to stay with his father, Saul, and work at his law firm (with middling results). As Terry’s bestie, your muse would’ve been privy to the affairs of their life over the years—and vice versa—and whether your character holds some animosity towards either character for making Terry’s life a lil Difficult is UTP! Their niece, Lettie, is also in-game! 

Why exactly your muse had also moved to Blue Harbor is UTP. It could be that the architecture firm is moving towards expansion for a Chicago/Illinois office. It could be that he’d left NYC for some personal issues of his own and sought his best friend. Maybe his family from the Midwest/Illinois needed him here for one reason or another. He may have even moved out of concern for Terry, whom he’s recognized as being in the middle of a crisis of their own bc a City Girlie™ does not simply leave the city they love, quit the job they love, and fuck off into the woods yk. But then he does the same thing! They are two peas in a pod <3 

Note that this isn’t necessarily a romantic connection but I won’t stop you if you could see some attraction from his end (although Terry, for one, may see it as almost a betrayal to the friendship they’d sustained over the decades + Terry usually likes women). A romantic connection may be possible if the chemistry is right, but I’d just prefer that not to be the jump off point!

do you need to be contacted by the potential applicant? — yes please!

[chevelleneech]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/761701380234903552/i-usually-dont-subblog-like-this-but-i-am-beyond

The way the tkkr account has literally twisted your words lmaoo. I get why these people ship taekook, zero reading comprehension because when did you say Jk’s behaviour towards Jimin is because he is neurodivergent? You spoke about his behaviour in general and not specifically towards Jimin so what are they even talking about???😂

I don’t typically like posting asks with people’s blogs linked in, and I am going to state upfront that I hope no one goes to this blog and says a single thing “in defense” of me or my opinions.

However, I will post this message solely because they are in fact twisting what I said, and quoting me in bad faith. It is also impossible to claim this post is about anyone else, so there’s no way it won’t lead back to me anyway.

What I said, @dearweirdme, is that Jungkook has a “standoffish” personality in general. He has been this way for years, and it doesn’t make sense to me that people continue to use it as so-called proof that he doesn’t like interacting with Jimin.

I also said people need to stop picking apart his personality, trying to find reasons why he comes across as rude or standoffish around Jimin only, when it is a fact he acts this way around all the members. And one reason for that, is because he is possibly nd. So instead of the anon I got, and many others constantly trying to say he seems uninterested in Jimin because he’s not being as enthusiastic as they believe he should be, they need to look at his personality as it has been for years.

I also state that all the members seem very much aware of his personality, and don’t care that it may take more effort for him to be as involved as they want him to be. They know that’s who he is, and they seemingly have made space in how they all interact as a group, to accommodate one another’s needs.

Next, I did not say any trait of JK’s is negative, you did. I said this:

Someone being a lot to handle does not mean they are unwanted nor the people doing the handling are unwilling. Lots of us have people in our lives who are a lot to handle, but we figure out how to meet them where they need us to, because we love them.

I said JK seems like a lot to handle, because he does, imo. His personality seems to swing much more drastically than the other members do, with the one example I gave of a moment when accommodations needed to be made. The group and their crew made them, and I don't recall there ever being any issues there. The same way I don’t recall there ever being any issues made when Yoongi needed physical accommodations over the years.

So perhaps you and I simply have different opinions on what it means to love a person who is a lot to handle, but I don’t view any of the traits I listed for Jungkook as negative. They’re just parts of who he appears to be.

As for you deciding I am referring to Jikook specifically and supposedly blaming possible neurodivergent traits as the reason JK acts this or that way to Jimin, that’s your fault, not mine. You have chosen to take what you want from my post and run with it to fit a narrative you want, because you don’t believe Jikook mean anything to each other, I guess.

Because me? I said multiple times that even if he is not nd, his personality has always been what it is. He may not be overt and expressive in his excitement, but he tends to always use his words to tell us he enjoyed himself. Thus, people need to at least try to marry their opinion of his personality to what he’s telling us. That’s it.

That’s all I said and all I meant. It has nothing to do with trying to create reasons why I think JM and JK are dating, and shoving stuff in that don’t fit. Particularly because they don’t have to be dating for me to believe Jungkook is being honest about enjoying spending time with Jimin. I also don’t need to believe he is nd to make his personality around Jimin make sense. To me, JK seems nd, and likes being around Jimin. The two do not go hand in hand, no matter how much you twisted my words to make it seem like that’s what I said.

In any case, next time you have this level of confusion over what I’m saying, try asking for clarification first. I’d have been happy to let you know you misunderstood.