#reads so clearly as authority figures taking advantage of a neurodivergent person

[autistic-beshelar]

rue is, i think, in love with the idea of love.

they set a wager. the lords of the wing will find true love in this romantic, ephemeral bloom, if they only seek it. they can win it, as though it’s a game.

they long to abolish the courts. their own court has never held any love for them - why would any other court be different? a court stifles, a court smothers, a court suffocates love. the courts must be abolished, so that love can bloom. true love, love that is unfettered by politics, or station, or duty.

they are the architect of the bloom. the hunt, the heart. the dance. the potions. they will pour love into a cup and the guests will drink their fill. fae from across the realms will fall in beautiful, perfect love at rue’s hand. 

they have become the arbiter of love. when an engagement between a cruel prince and a wild goblin is set, what else can they do but judge it unfit? it was not love, it was not true. 

they share a moment in a forest with a venerated captain. he is tall, as they are. he is clawed, as they are. he is a beast, as they are, and so beautiful for it. they fall fast, and hard, and heavy. and perhaps it is only the nature of queerness, of a life lived behind a mask, yearning for the faintest spark, that causes them to love so fast. 

or perhaps they did not truly fall in love with hob at all. for they did not see him. 

they fell in love with a reflection of themself.

except, of course, that hob is not a reflection of rue. hob is his own person, and like any real person, he cannot live up to an idea. and while rue is on a wonderful journey of revelation and self acceptance, it is baffling to them that someone else’s love does not always mirror their own.

rue, in an act of bravery and vulnerability and hope, removed their mask. and they long so very much to remove hob’s - but he has never worn a mask. he has always been exactly as he is - a soldier, devoted and dutiful. an outsider, used and abused by his court. rue’s true form was hidden by their court, while hob’s otherness has always been mercilessly exposed.

rue loves hob for the idea of who he could be, if he could simply unmask as they did. but hob needs, just as rue does, to be loved for who he is.

#this really went from 'rue doesn't truly understand love and is fucked up about it' #to 'rue thinks hob's story is one of queerness but it is in fact of neurodivergence' #and while rue could pass #hob never could #this hurt me to write btw. #a court of fey and flowers #delloso de la rue #captain kp hob #i see a LOT of talk about rue's story being a queer one #which it very very deliberately and wonderfully is #but i see the same being said of hob #and i'm not saying it's wrong to see hob's story as a queer one too #but to me hob's entire narrative is so clearly an autistic one #the abuse and manipulation and straight up gaslighting that he has received from his superiors #reads so clearly as authority figures taking advantage of a neurodivergent person #his whole... inability to accept that anyone could love him for who he is #the way he is othered not so much for how he looks #but for his BEHAVIOUR #for things that are blatant autistic traits #that's... that's an autistic narrative for sure. #not to say that hob isn't also queer #and of course there is so so much overlap between queer stories and autistic stories #but i think that #rue is only seeing their experience as a queer person #they aren't understanding that hob's experience is different than theirs #because he is autistic #also for many other reasons but like. look. we're talking autism babey. #and also i'm not saying rue can't also be autistic or neurodivergent in some way #but they don't have the same experience as hob does

[timeoutforthee]

Like it or Not-Chapter 24

Taglist: @itsausernamenotafobsong, @sea-blue-child, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @princeanxious, @uwillbeefoundtonight, @zaidiashipper, @arandompasserby, @levyredfox3, @falsett0, @error-i-dunno-what-went-wrong, @scrapbookofsketches, @podcastsandcoffee, @helloisthisusernametaken, @amuthefunperson, @michealawithana, @yamihatarou, @heck-im-lost, @unlikelynightmareconnoisseur, @idkaurl, @bubblycricket, @fnp-alizay, @neonbluetiefling, @comicsimpson, @a-little-bit-of-ace

Summary: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Virgil are all struggling in their recovery. Their doctors, Thomas Sanders and Emile Picani think they can help each other out.

Aka Group Therapy AU

Trigger Warnings:  discussions of anxiety, fictionalized body horror/monsters

Read it on AO3!

Paisley wants to interrogate her son. She wants to know why she didn’t hear him sneak down last night, wants to ask if he didn’t or if he’s just gotten better at hiding it. But the second she takes a look at him, she swallows her questions.

Patton has dragged himself out of bed and down the stairs to sit at the kitchen table with great effort. The dim lights are usually nice, but right now they feel like they’re too bright.

“Honey, you look exhausted.”

“I just had a lot going on yesterday,” Patton says, which is the truth. Emotionally, he’s drained. “I couldn’t fall asleep last night.”

Technically, he fell asleep fine last night. The first time. Then, as always, he woke up at 1:28 in the morning. And he sat there. He thought about all the steps he had just made, and he felt...different. Usually he felt hollow when he snuck down to eat. But then, he just felt tired from everything he had gone through emotionally during group. He decided he wanted to sleep more than he wanted to eat, so he turned his back to his phone, and tried to go back to sleep.

He couldn’t.

Leaving him here, exhausted and trying to pull himself together for school. From what he could tell, he wasn’t doing a good job, because his mom kept shooting him concerned glances. Eventually, she walked over and gave him a kiss on the head.

“You’re doing so well, honey,” she said.

Patton winces. The last thing he wants is for people to know. He doesn’t want to let them all down when he inevitably messes this up.

^

“No!” Roman says, resisting the urge to hit the table to emphasize his point, “No! No! No!” In front of him on his desk is Remus’s sketchbook. It’s a green cloth covered notebook filled with sketches from his various projects. It’s flipped to the sketch that’s supposed to be anxiety. Remus is sat in the seat next to him, with his body turned in the chair to face Roman. The entire classroom is white, save for the show posters hung up around the walls.

Remus rolls his eyes at Roman’s theatrics. “And why not? These sketches are great.”

“These sketches are disturbing-” This one in particular is a hunched over creature, with bloody scales covering the body. There are a few stray lines, but overall it’s very clean and nicely done. Roman is still impressed that such talent could come from such a mess of a person.

“They’re monsters, Roman, what did you expect?”

“You know what I expect? A well thought out piece that makes people think, not some cheap scares that take advantage of the neurodivergent community!”

“Maybe you’re expecting too much.”

“Clearly! I don’t know why I thought you would actually care about this project-”

“I care about this project, I just don’t care to bend to these rules you’re pulling out of your ass!”

“How dare you, I’m just trying to-”

“Guys,” Suddenly Mr. Hurley is standing in between their two desks. “What is going on here? I can hear you arguing from my desk.”

“Roman is making up rules to try and restrict my creativity.”

“Remus isn’t listening to me.”

“Well, maybe you should come up with something worthwhile to say.”

“Maybe you-”

“Guys!” Mr. Hurley repeats, “Remus, is there something you can work on without Roman? I need to talk to him at my desk.”

“Me?!” Roman says. Remus just smiles.

“There sure is, Mr. Hurley,” Remus says, pulling his sketchbook back onto his own desk.

“Roman,” the teacher says, nodding to his own desk in the back of the classroom. Roman stands up and walks over, followed closely by him.

“Now tell me why you can’t get along with Remus,” he asks as soon as they’re out of earshot from the other students.

“I’m just trying to take this assignment seriously!” Roman says, frustrated.

“And what makes you think Remus isn’t? When he told me your guys’ plan he also told me he’s the one who came up with the idea, I think that shows dedication on his part.”

“But we’re dealing with real conditions here,” Roman says, desperate for his teacher to see his side, “Real people in the audience will see our representations, we don’t want to upset them!”

“So you’re worrying about censoring yourself?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know!” Roman yanks his hand through his hair. “I don’t care if people are uncomfortable with our portrayals, but I want them to be accurate and thought out, because I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings.”

“They’ll get over it,” Mr. Hurley laughs, “Besides, you don’t even know if people in the audience will have these...conditions.”

“Do you know how common they are? Of course there will be!”

“You don’t know that,” Mr. Hurley says, “And if I were you, I’d watch my tone when talking to an authority figure.”

“Sorry, sir,” Roman says automatically. His father has taught him well, “I’m just...passionate about this topic, is all.”

“Aren’t you passionate about everything, Prince?” his teacher laughs. “If you can, try and dial it back a bit. Remus has some good ideas. That’s why I assigned you two together. You could create something great here, you just need to step back a bit.”

“Step...back,” Roman repeats.

“Yeah!” Mr. Hurley says, “You’re brand of creativity can be a little...sweet. Like cake with too much icing. I think working with Remus and creating this story will be good for you.”

“Okay,” Roman says. Maybe he could be a little much. Maybe he was making a big deal out of nothing.

The bell starts to ring and everyone starts packing up for their next class.

“This was a good talk, Roman,” he says. Roman nods. Mr. Hurley smiles and claps him on the shoulder before going back to his desk.

Roman grabs his books and heads to lunch.

^

“But why does the anxiety monster have bloody scales?” Virgil asks.

“Because it looks cool,” Roman responds, shrugging.

“But...that’s not a good reason,” Logan says.

“Well, Mr. Hurley thought I should be more open-minded, therefore, cool monster.”

“A monster can be cool and still make sense,” Virgil says under his breath.

“How?”

Virgil tries not to shrink back in his seat at that. He had plenty of experiences with anxiety, and all its many symptoms. He was sure he could find one to elaborate on.

“Ha!” Roman takes his silence as a victory, “It’s not that simple, is it?”

“Of course it’s not simple, nothing about mental illness is simple,” Virgil says, a little harsher than necessary. He regrets it immediately when Roman pulls back, but before he can say anything, Roman continues.

“Look, I don’t really like it either, okay? But I’ve got nothing else to offer, so I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure you can think of something, Roman!” Patton speaks up.

“But will it even be a good idea?” Roman says. “Who’s to say my ideas are better than Remus’s? His are valid too.”

“Valid, but also stupid. If he’s just going to make whatever monsters he wants, then why even base them on mental illnesses in the first place?” Virgil says

Logan looks across the table at Patton. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet to day, and their friends’ current fight is doing nothing to help that situation. Right now, Patton’s eyes are looking at the whiteboard, the bookcases, the desk in front of him, anything but Virgil and Roman.

“Because this is what Remus wanted, and what Mr. Hurley wanted, so maybe it’s the right choice after all!”

“What about what you want?”

“I want...a good story,” Roman says, “But I think...I think I’m getting in over my head.”

“I don’t,” Virgil says, “I think you can do it, Roman. But it’s going to take work, because you don’t know the first thing about anxiety.”

Roman sputters. “I am trying-”

“How?”

“I-I,” Roman pauses, “I care! That’s-that’s something, right?”

“Of course it is,” Virgil says, softly, “But you need to put a little more work into it than just caring.”

“Virgil’s right,” Logan says, jumping in, “We know you care, you just need to show it.”

“How do I do that?”

“By doing research, so you can accurately represent the monsters,” Logan says.

Roman wrinkles his nose. “Research?”

“Yes,” Virgil says, “You really want to write a good story? You have to put more effort in.”

“Okay, okay,” Roman says, “I get it. You guys are right. But it’s just going to be so hard.”

“You’re right, it is,” Virgil says, shrugging.

“But I’m sure you can do it, Roman!” Patton says, snapping his head up from where it was trained on his lunch.

“I am, too,” Virgil says, “I really do believe you care, Roman, and that does count for something. And I think that passion will make it easier for you to write this story.”

“Thanks,” Roman says, slowly. “So...Virgil, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he says.

“What is anxiety actually...like? What are the worst parts?”

Virgil snorts. “Everything,” he says automatically. Then he leans back, contemplating it a little more. “It’s like I’m afraid, but I don’t know what I’m afraid of. My body is constantly on high alert even though I don’t know what the threat is. I’m always looking out for what’s going to go wrong.”

“So if you’re always looking for something to go wrong…,” Roman says, “Maybe we could do something eye focused? Like multiple eyes?”

“That makes sense,” Virgil says, “More sense than bloody scales.”

#like it or not #sanders sides fic