Thinking about being a demigod as a metaphor for neurodivergency
Thinking about demigods fighting monsters no one else can see, thinking about the mist, how mortals just canât see it. Thinking about Mrs Dodds, and how everyone told Percy he was crazy for remembering her. How ableism and insults are just so typical in places like a high school and yet if youâre neurodivergent and remember it years after school, youâre called crazy and obsessed because âit wasnât that badâ and âyou need to move onâ. How Nancy Bobofit called Percy special. How Chiron (a centaur) was the only teacher to be actually nice and understanding of Percy, since he too wasnât a mortal. How mortals canât see the monsters and swords, how they canât see the struggles we face and our defense mechanisms/ways to cope. How demigods just trying to defense themselves against monsters are seen as âevilâ or a threat by mortals, because they canât see than the reason they made that thing explode was to survive, than the bump on their car wasnât actually made on purpose, but by a monster throwing them against it. How the world is dangerous to demigods, how they always have to stay alert, how there was always something off about them growing up. How they might have known they were demigods since a young age, or if not demigods, they knew something was different about them. Like Annabeth, who kept attracting monsters and decided to run away at just 8. She knew, her father knew, her family knew. There was no point in hiding it, no point in pretending it wasnât there, everyone could see it. Thinking about Percy, how his mom knew, and how she made sure to help Percy no matter what, how she never cared. Thinking about Leo, who didnât know until he was a teenager, who figured out on his own, whoâs childhood was traumatized by his powers, how being a demigod completely ruined what would have been a lovely childhood. Thinking about Percyâs time in school, thinking about the demigods having adhd and dyslexia, thinking about how âtheir brains are trained for ancient greek/latinâ and how they have trouble understanding what everyone else can easily read. Sure, itâs dyslexia, but it can also be something else. Their brains are not trained for neurotypical social cues, thatâs not a language their fluent in, they have their own language, which neurotypicals canât understand. How if they tell someone theyâre a demigod, they wonât believe them, and think theyâre weird. How itâs not something they can mention unless around the right people (other demigods, gods, mythological creatures, or parents of demigods kids, which in this scenario, is anyone with a connection to neurodiversity). How the parents sometimes are aware their kid is a demigod (like Sally), because they know the other parent was a god, in this scenario, theyâre aware of the possibility of a neurodivergent kid because they slept with a neurodivergent person. Except sometimes they donât know the other parent is a god, they donât know their kid is a demigod. How someone can have neurodivergent kids, whoâs neurodivergency is passed down from their other parent, except the other parent is not diagnosed. How, even still the neurodiversity community, thereâs still stigma and stereotypes. How they treated Nico, even if he was just like them, simply because he didnât fit. How the more visibly demigod you are, if youâre the child of one of the big three, the more monsters you attract, the more dangerous life becomes, how the moment a demigod realizes they're a demigod, they can't hide it, they attract more monsters, thereâs no turning back.
Thinking about being a demigod as a metaphor for neurodivergency
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âHalt!â
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
âI said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!â
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
âHi, Annabeth,â Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She is entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
âExplain yourselves,â Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
âWhatever do you mean,â Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. âWhy, we are only helping our dear friend William ââ
âOur dear, dear friend,â Cecil adds.
ââ carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden ââ
âMassive burden,â Will says sagely.
ââ and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.â
âEspecially cherished,â Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. Theyâre not even trying to not get caught, at this point.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. âYeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. Youâre being detained for suspected illicit substances.â
âAnnabeth!â Will cries, mock outraged, âafter all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being â illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the ââ
âCan it, Solace. Open the boxes.â
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
âTape off.â
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
âFlaps open, guys, câmon.â
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico canât name.
âSee?â says Cecil, gesturing grandly. âThe shipment just came in from my dad.â
Annabethâs eyes narrow. âYour dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.â
âWell,â Cecil says, and then nothing else.
âHe meant it in the royal sense,â Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. âYou know, âjustâ as in, like, recently, as in this morning ââ
âDo you three think Iâm stupid ââ
âItâs just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want ââ
Even if they werenât acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabethâs stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Sixâs shadow. Itâs a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellenâs arm.
âBoo,â he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes as her grip on the Mist loosens.
âI knew it!â Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about âruining the funâ. Nicoâs glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
âWe still donât have any illicit substances,â Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. âSo weâre just gonna take our stuff and ââ
âAbsolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.â
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding suddenly dawns on her.
âItâs supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.â
They squirm harder.
âOh, you godsdamn bitches.â
âIt wouldâve been really funny,â Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. âRain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.â
âThe only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!â Annabeth shouts, which doesnât quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. âWho was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?â
âI mean, probably,â Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabethâs glare.
âAnd you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility youâre known for, huh?â
Will pouts. âI can be responsible and do fun things.â
âFun, he says. Iâm going to fucking kill you. The one day Iâm left in charge, I cannot believe ââ
âIf it helps, itâs less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,â Cecil interjects tentatively. âLike, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.â
Annabeth glares darkly. âOf fucking course you were. Itâs always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.â
âItâs honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys, stopped before youâre even started,â Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. âLike, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.â
âBoo, you jag,â Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a bright grin and two middle fingers.
âEnough,â Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. âExtra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or Iâll have you on chores tomorrow, too.â
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
âPretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,â Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. âIâd get started on that, if I were you.â
âButthead,â Cecil mutters.
âKiss-ass,â Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
âTraitor,â Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He canât help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
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Thalia doesnât keep many things in the hundreds of years sheâs been alive.Â
But long ago, there were people, their names all but distant memories, who mattered in her 1st lifetime. Itâs their things that stay hidden in her bag, reminding her of her mortal life.Â
A blue hoodie, worn almost threadbare. The scent of its original owner, long since leached from the fabric. But if she closes her eyes, she can almost see the blue eyes of her first and only love.Â
A pair of glasses. Frames cracked and crooked. A reminder of a brother she never got to truly know.Â
A baseball cap. Itâs magic long faded, branded with a forgotten logo. Memories of a blonde girl laughing hidden deep within.Â
A letter. Ink fading, paper yellow. The last words of a dying friend. Words that wish her well, words that wished her well in a world they had fought side by side to save.Â
Thalia doesnât keep a lot of things, but even after all this time, Luke, Jason, Annabeth, and Percy will stay with her forever. The memories of her first family to remind her why life is so beautiful.
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