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deadsetobsessions · 2 days

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Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:

——

They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.

‘How has everything been, habibi?’

They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.

‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’

She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’

Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?

The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.

‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.

‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’

Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.

‘Why would the magician hide there?’

‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’

“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.

“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.

“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.

“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.

She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.

“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”

“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.

“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.

Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.

——

“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.

‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.

“What about you?”

‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.

Behind her mask, she smiled.

——

“Who was that, Robin?”

Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.

“She... protected me.”

Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.

“That’s it?”

“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.

A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.

And so the wheels turned.

——

“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”

Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.

There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.

She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.

“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.

Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.

"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.

"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."

"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."

She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.

No, she will bide her time.

She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.

And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.

——

"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"

Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?

"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"

Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.

"For your safety!"

Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."

"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"

Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."

Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.

"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."

Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.

"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."

"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."

"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.

——

Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.

The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.

The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.

She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.

"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”

It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.

His first mistake today.

That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.

His second mistake. His last mistake.

Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.

After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.

"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.

"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.

To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.

He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.

Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.

"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."

She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.

Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"

She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.

The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.

Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.

——

It felt like drowning.

(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)

Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.

The Pit felt like freedom.

And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.

It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-

Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.

——

“Habibi.”

Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.

“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.

“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.

“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.

“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”

“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.

“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.

“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”

“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.

“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”

“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”

“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”

“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.

“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”

And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.

——

Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.

She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.

She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.

“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.

“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”

Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”

She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”

She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.

“I am sorry, habibi. I…”

The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.

——

Damian trembled with rage. With grief.

With regret.

He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.

He thought it was passion.

His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.

“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”

“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.

“Yes.”

Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.

Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.

When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.

Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.

His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.

But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.

So he stayed still.

And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.

“Damian?”

How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.

As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.

——

Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.

“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.

“Ahem.”

Jason quickly put his feet down.

“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”

“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.

“And what if they keep Damian captive?”

“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.

Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.

Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.

“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.

“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”

Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.

Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.

——

Clarity.

Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.

She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.

“Ukhti, what are you doing?”

“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”

At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.

Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!

Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.

The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.

——

“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”

“You fucked Talia, twice?!”

A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”

Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.

——

Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.

There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.

Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.

But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.

Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.

Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.

“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.

But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.

Her hands came up.

‘Not yet. Mother will think-”

“It is a good idea.”

Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.

“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”

Well.

It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…

‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’

“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”

Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.

——

“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“She asked me not to.”

“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”

Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.

“Since it was ukhti that asked.”

Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”

Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.

“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.

“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”

“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”

Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.

“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”

Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.

Now he knew.

“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”

Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.

“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.

Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.

Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.

“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.

“She was ordered not to speak a word.”

“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.

“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.

“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.

“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”

“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”

“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”

Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!

“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”

Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.

“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”

“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”

Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.

“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”

“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.

“Two weeks.”

“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”

——

She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.

“Ukht.”

She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.

“I am sorry.”

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

“But-”

She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have noticed.”

‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’

“No, I suppose not.”

She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.

——

The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.

The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*

The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”

#Dick Grayson #dick grayson and his gatekeeper gaslight girl boss self #oc in dc #batman #damian wayne’s older sister #damian wayne #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #talia al ghul #ra’s al ghul #ra’s al ghul and the consequences of his actions #tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

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leidensygdom · 2 days

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Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!

So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.

So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!

Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)

This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.

On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).

This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.

Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.

Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.

Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')

One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!

Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.

However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!

Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.

On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.

Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)

#nd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #disability #disabled #autism #adhd #neurodivergencies #long post

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3xiles · 1 day

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Sweet lies

Pairing • Toji x gn!reader

Warnings • Angst!, Cheating mentioned, suggestive, manipulation, UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP!, Cursing, not proof read sorry!! lmk if i missed anything >.<

Word count • 405 words

A/n • This is my first time writing in a while LMAO. I hope you all enjoy! :)) Repost are always appreciated!

You knew your marriage was going downhill the first time you caught him but, you being young, naive, and stupidly in love you let yourself believe the foolish lies that he would spill to you every night. The tongue that was used to pleasure another being the same one let the words “i love you” effortlessly roll off.

You met Toji when you were fairly young. A fresh college graduate moving away from home to a new city to start your new life. Things were going great! You were able to snag a great job as an accountant and you were making good money. You got a beautiful pent house apartment and were wearing clothes that years ago you thought you would never be able to afford and not to mention all at the age of 24. Yeah, things really were going great for you and things would still be that way if you just hadn’t gone out that night.

You had met a group of girls from this dance class you joined when you first moved and they somehow convinced you to go out clubbing with them one night. ‘What’s the harm in one night out?’ you repeated to yourself in your head, you were never really the clubbing type. Little did you know that one night would somehow change the course of your life. You met Toji on this night out.

He had this charm to him. Maybe it was something about a man that was older that got it you or the strong cologne that hit your nostrils as soon as he walked up. It could’ve been how smooth he was with his words and how dominating his presence was. At first glance he seemed scary but something about him made you feel… safe. Using that deep rasp voice and smooth combination of words he managed to bring you home that night.

It wasn’t something you were proud of, you didn’t like one night stands. Afterwards you were ashamed you would let yourself go like this, especially with a guy you just met not even 2 hours ago! You can’t lie tho, he was the best fuck you’ve ever had. He fell asleep shortly after so you took that as your que to leave. Before you leaving you left your number on his nightstand, you wanted to see more of him but it also made you feel better about the situation. Much to your surprise he ended up calling a few days later and asking you out on a date. It made you feel good, he wanted you. He wanted to turn into something. All that talk at the club wasn’t just to get in your pants, he actually liked you! You both went on more dates and shortly after began dating. It was a very nerve wracking experience for you, him being your first relationship since high school.

You fell hard. He made you feel things you’ve never felt before. He was all you wanted and more. He was nothing like the guys your age, he was grown. He was doing things for you that you’ve only seen with TV couples. Bringing you flowers while you were at work, random dates and gifts, and so much more. Toji was the man of your dreams but like every couple you guys had your ups and downs. The thing that made them all better, that damn mouth of his.

Toji’s words were your drug. He just always knew the right things to say. He had you right in the palm of his hand and you didn’t even know it. The things he has convinced you to do are unbelievable and looking back on it now you definitely wouldn’t have done them. Cutting off all your friends because in his words “They are all too immature” and “bad influences”, moving out of the apartment you loved so so much because he says would be better to wake up with you by his side and even quitting the job of your dreams.. because he promised he would take care of you. He didn’t want you to ever stress your pretty little head or lift one of your polished fingers. You began to rely on him, you began to need him.

About a year and a half into your relationship he proposed and of course you said yes! who were you to say no to him? He was providing for you, keeping you safe, the least you could do was tie the knot with him, right?

Biggest mistake of your life.

part two???

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trans-cuchulainn · 15 hours

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hello and welcome to the niche corner

hello i'm néide and this is my blog, which mostly consists of me being grumpy about niche things. i have multiple degrees in medieval irish literature and while sometimes i use these to be vaguely educational, more often i use them to write incredibly specific fic about characters nobody else cares about, and this fic can be found on ao3 (for logged-in users)

so this is a guide to my incredibly specific fanfiction, which i feel also gives a reasonably good introduction to the kind of thing i'm likely to be yelling about on this blog

i am reliably informed that you don't actually need to know anything about the source material to have fun with these fics (or suffer from the angst), but also they can be more fun if you do. some have bibliographies/refs/explanations so i also know a few people have used them as a way to get started with medieval Irish lit which will never not be extremely funny to me

current WIP: chasing someone else's dream (16k, WIP): a cú chulainn/láeg reincarnation fic. they have been reincarnated, not for the first time. they've also been cursed, and thus, unlike in every life before this one, they've never met. ngl this fic contains some of the best prose i ever wrote, please read it

group chats of the ulster cycle, or, the in loco parentis series

a modern AU of the ulster cycle. sort of a college AU, turned into a ballet AU halfway through. consists of:

in loco parentis (135k, complete): my magnum opus. cú chulainn and láeg are university flatmates; group chats featuring all your favourite ulster cycle characters and also some you probably never gave a shit about; cú chulainn as a tiny trans ballet dancer and ferdia as his pas de deux partner; baking; everybody hating on conchobar; nobody dies; way more feelings about both ballet and shostakovich than anybody was expecting, including me; and much more. comes with explanatory notes / bibliography because i'm just Like That

getting the dee (9k, in progress/abandoned): a prequel to ILP, sort of a longes mac nuislenn fic except nobody dies and there are more sex toys. naoise/deirdre with guest appearances from conall. one day i'll go back to this but also i'm a coward

valentáin's day (4k oneshot, complete): a prequel to ILP, featuring láeg and cormac in the pub on valentine's day making fun of all their friends in relationships. they make out, fortunately their friendship survives the experience.

and when you move, i move (2.5k oneshot, complete): a sequel to ILP. just a horny lil cú chulainn/ferdia oneshot set a few months after ILP wraps up.

miscellaneous ulster cycle oneshots

i will be honest, most of these are sad fics of oidheadh con culainn ("the death of cú chulainn") because i just love writing angst, but there's a couple of others in there

to walk this world alone (6k): extremely niche fic featuring láeg after cú chulainn's death. some otherworldly happenings. sad but not as sad as it was originally going to be.

counterweight (3k): cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. this one's pretty sad too.

dindsenchas (3.5k): missing scenes between cú chulainn and láeg during táin bó cúailnge. narrated by the landscape of ulster and addressed in second person to cú chulainn himself because the best sex scenes are the ones narrated by a tree.

in one dwelling place (2k): láeg/cú chulainn/emer. vaguely smutty, vaguely fluffy.

we'll say goodbye, today (2k): cú chulainn and láeg during oidheadh con culainn, anticipating cú chulainn's death. big sad hours.

glorious as the sunrise (3k): this is just angst. cú chulainn/láeg during oidheadh con culainn again. not particularly shippy but they love each other very much.

a marriage of inconvenience (3k): modern AU. cú chulainn wants to marry emer but unfortunately never bothered to get divorced after he married láeg for househunting purposes. a very silly fic.

of grief and glory (1.7k): cú chulainn deals with the aftermath of táin bó cúailnge, especially fer diad's death. more sad times lol.

flight risk (2.3k): teenage cú chulainn and láeg steal a spaceship. they get caught. fun scifi AU.

other medieval lit fics (non ulster cycle)

patron saint of toasties (2.5k): finn cycle fic. oisín took time out of uni to travel and now all his friends have graduated and he's lonely enough to text the christian union's "text a toastie" hotline. which is how he meets patrick. very silly modern AU gen fic mostly taking the piss out of st patrick

two birds of a feather (2.8k): yonec (marie de france) | togail bruidne da derga crossover fic. bird dad support group. conaire and yonec hang out and bond over their dads having maybe been birds. stupidest thing i ever wrote and i adore it.

quiver and shake (1.8k): fourth branch of the mabinogi fic. gwydion and gilfaethwy's special brotherly bonding time. canon typical content warnings apply.

other

absent thee from felicity (11k, WIP): hamlet | romeo & juliet crossover modern AU in which horatio and benvolio attempt to deal with the aftermath of their respective tragedies. sad at first, will gradually get sillier. haven't updated in a couple of years but that doesn't mean it's permanently abandoned, i'm just busy

if you've never read any of my fics before and are wondering where to start, i firmly believe the reincarnation fic (current WIP) is a good one because it has a solid mix of angst, shenanigans, and weird fuckery, so you can experience the tonal whiplash of the rest of my fics all in one place! but it is a WIP and i make zero promises about upload schedule, it happens when it happens, so not so good if you're impatient haha. plenty of others to get you started though

#my fic #medieval irish #ulster cycle

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