if you don’t have any I will also accept: favourite multigender canon characters, favourite multigender “other people’s OC”s, and multigender headcanons
(can be but *does not have to be* man + woman bigender, can include genderfluid identities if you want, can be anything you might broadly consider to fall under the multigender umbrella in any way whatsoever)
content notices: platonic, familial, and undefinedly-close relationships; hair pulling; mild casual body horror; grief; touching; brief referenced transphobia
"Hey," Ausse said. "I just wanted to say goodbye to you before I head out."
"You're leaving?" Daanah said. "Like- For good?"
"This was always going to be a temporary alliance," Ausse said. "We no longer have a common cause."
"Oh."
"Aren't you going home, anyway?" Ausse said.
"For my coming of age," Daanah said. "I… I'd hoped you were coming."
"Well." Ausse leaned against the doorframe. "Do you want me to be there?"
Daanah shrugged listlessly. She really did, but she didn't want to come across as needy, or embarrass herself if Ausse didn't want to come.
"You're from Kulainestainer, right?" Ausse said.
"Yeah." Daanah pulled on one of her locs. "It's later this cycle. The thirty-third of Seshasai."
She had told Miwaanii-Shémelús she expected him to be there. Kéchawaedrii-Orl would probably be there too even though she hadn't asked hir and would honestly, given Miwaanii-Shémelús's recent revelations, rather ze not come. All of her friends and family. Her neighbours. Everyone was going to be there.
Except Fiyavu Ozast.
"Well, you know," said Ausse. "I might happen to be in the area then."
"Okay."
"Can't believe you haven't even been of age this whole time," Ausse said.
Daanah shrugged. "I'm fifteen. My birthday is just a lot earlier. I actually turned fifteen ages ago, but in Kulainestainer we don't have the coming-of-age until almost the end of the year."
"Are there a lot of you this year?"
"About a dozen," Daanah said. "It's never very many. Kulainestainer's not very big."
"You Dalahe tend to have pretty small communities, don't you?" Ausse said. "Not like us." Ausse was Schwany Norve, like most of Sautgurotays.
Daanah nodded.
"Is my Dalac good enough?" Ausse said.
"There are a lot of cognates," said Daanah, who had been mostly speaking Dalac this whole time and had only realized several tensegs into their trip that Kéchawaedrii-Orl and Miwaanii-Shémelús were actually speaking Schwany and not just Dalac with a strong accent and occasional regional slang. She couldn't read Schwany fluently, but apparently she could understand it when spoken pretty well, and it seemed to go the other way too. "You'll be fine. I don't speak much Schwany."
Ausse raised her eyebrows. "Alright, then. I'll see you."
This would be Daanah's first time actually getting her hair cut more than a trim to keep it healthy. Her hair was a different texture than most other Norves, so Saafeera always took her to the Gathiya Na Theenan hair salon in the city. They'd had a consultation the other day about what Daanah wanted.
"It will take a while," Ghiyafee, the hairdresser who always did Daanah's, had said. "You have a lot of hair. I'll be gentle, but the combing will probably hurt your scalp somewhat."
So Daanah had brought the mystery she was reading and a second book in case she finished the first. She wasn't really one for chatting. Saafeera and Ghiyafee always talked while Daanah got her hair done.
"You said you want it short like your mama's?" Ghiyafee said.
Daanah nodded. She had the urge to pull at her hair. Dalahe Norves usually got their long childhood hair cut very short for their comings-of-age. It was symbolic of the transition into a new phase of life.
"How has the picking been lately?" Ghiyafee asked.
Daanah shrugged. "Reyal helps."
"Good, good." Ghiyafee pulled one of Daanah's long locs over her shoulder so she could see it in the mirror and pinched her fingers around it just above the height of her glasses. "I'm going to cut it here to begin with so there will be space to fine-tune the ends once it's all picked out."
Daanah nodded again and reminded herself that this was a good change.
Saafeera smiled at her encouragingly.
"This is my first real haircut," Daanah said quietly. "Like… ever."
"It's her coming-of-age soon," Saafeera said.
"That's certainly exciting," Ghiyafee said.
Daanah swallowed. "Yeah."
"You nervous?"
"…Yeah," she said. "A little."
In the mirror, Ghiyafee nodded. "Well, if I have anything to do with it, your hair will look perfect for it."
Ghiyafee had been right about the tugging hurting her scalp. She gritted her teeth and read as Ghiyafee cut- the change in weight as the locs fell to the ground one by one was disconcerting- and then combed and talked with Saafeera.
She had been right about it taking a while, too. Saafeera left and came back with lunch at one point and they took a break. Daanah nearly finished her book. She did her best not to look up, not wanting to see it until it was done.
She had worried about how expensive all that work would be, but Saafeera had told her that her coming-of-age was one of the most important days of her life and she wasn't going to let Daanah have anything less than what she wanted for it and that it was her aunt Chaariya's gift too.
Ghiyafee was especially careful working in the conditioner afterwards; she knew how sensitive Daanah's scalp always was. "You'll want to be gentle with it for a little while. It's fragile now; don't try to braid anything in. Let it rest."
Daanah made an affirmative noise.
"Alright," Ghiyafee said excitedly. "Take a look."
Daanah cautiously looked up at the mirror. "Oh!"
"Do you like it?"
Daanah touched her short, tight curls, careful not to let herself pull. "I… had forgotten what my hair looks like loose."
"It looks beautiful," Saafeera said.
"I think so," said Daanah. She mostly felt overwhelmed. It was very different and would take a bit of time for her to get used to, but she was sure she would like it a lot once she did.
The evening before Daanah's coming of age, Ailít tapped her on the shoulder and signed "I have something for you."
She pulled Daanah into her and Fiya's section of the starhouse. Fiya lay asleep in the middle of the bed, the baby monitor next to em paired with the vibrating one Ailít wore on a string around her neck.
Daanah looked at the lack of barriers around em anxiously.
"Ey doesn't roll yet, and your mum says it will be a good while before ey does, so I'm not worried about looking away for a couple minutes," Ailít signed. "I wouldn't do anything that wasn't safe."
Daanah nodded.
Ailít turned away for a moment to open her jewellery box while Daanah watched Fiya's tiny chest rise and fall.
Ailít put a handful of metal revaap pins with little beaded flowers on the ends into Daanah's hands. "These belonged to Fiyavu Ozast," she signed. "I want you to have them. I know Rovian wears her revaap more, but they're not really her style, and I thought you would like them for your coming-of-age."
Daanah burst into tears.
All of Kulainestainer was here- and then some.
"This is exciting for you," said Talí, sounding semi-confident.
Daanah nodded. "Yes." She fiddled with one of the pins Ailít had given her and added, "I wish Fiyavu Ozast were here."
Talí held her hand in an attempt at comfort that Daanah appreciated.
She spotted Miwaanii-Shémelús at the edge of the village square, looking very lost, so she pulled Talí in that direction, away from her cluster of friends and family. "I want to introduce you."
"Miwaanii-Shémelús, this is my best friend Talí," said Daanah. "Talí, Miwaanii-Shémelús."
She didn't try to define her relationship with Miwaanii-Shémelús for other people anymore. She could barely define it for herself. He mattered to her, and that was enough.
Talí's eyes landed on Miwaanii-Shémelús's pair of ribbon-wrapped braids and they started speaking to him in Kelétsowif.
Miwaanii-Shémelús's whole body perked up as (to Daanah's limited understanding) he asked if they were Se-Naskan and they responded in the affirmative.
Ausse found her then, nowhere to be seen one moment and beside her the next, shadowed by Ptoled and Ffeira.
"You made it," Daanah said. She hadn't been sure they would.
"We were in the area."
Kéchawaedrii-Orl was here.
Daanah was not able to stop her displeasure showing on her face.
"I would like to officiate your coming-of-age," ze said.
"No," Daanah said.
Kéchawaedrii-Orl raised hir eyebrows.
"I've known Curain my whole life," Daanah said. Ze was Kulainestainer's senior priest- though Kéchawaedrii-Orl might not know hir name; Daanah's estimation of hir respect for other people had plummeted drastically and she no longer assumed ze would. "I want to do it like everyone else. This is how we do it. If you've ever respected me as a person-" She knew ze hadn't- "and if you want me to keep working with you, you won't interfere."
"You sound very defensive," said Kéchawaedrii-Orl.
"I want Curain to do it," said Daanah flatly.
The thirteen of them were lined up based on birthday order, which meant Daanah was fourth.
A very small stage had been erected in the village square, about a foot off the ground- a ramp, then space for the senior priest and one other person to stand comfortably, then a ramp back down, and that was it. Daanah had been on a lot of stages recently, but this was the one she had always anticipated. This was, in some ways, the most important one.
She winced slightly as she accidentally ripped a hair out of her arm. Reyal was with her family, but maybe Daanah should have kept her with her to help her stay calm. She didn't want to freeze.
"Your turn, Daanah," the girl behind her whispered, and Daanah almost panicked at the realization that she had lost touch with the now.
Butterfly wings on her bare arms, butterfly wings uncomfortable under her clothes.
She stepped forward.
"Child of Maidallis Leykin and Saafeera Riwazee," Curain said. "What is your name now?"
Daanah tried to speak and failed. She swallowed and tried again. "Daanah Chaariya Addeyn Leykin Riwazee."
She heard Saafeera cheer, and blushed with equal parts embarrassment and pride.
"What gender do you want to live as, Daanah Chaariya Addeyn Leykin Riwazee?"
Curain hadn't approved of her initially, but ze had become a strong ally with time, never tolerating anyone being disrespectful. Everyone in Kulainestainer was pretty much used to it by now, even the most traditional of them. No one who came to their village to see the Scribe of the South got very far if they didn't treat her right.
"I'm a woman," Daanah said. The butterfly wings split into a different shape, belying her anxiety. She reassured herself that even if some people had probably expected her to just grow out of it, no one here would disrupt the ceremony over it.
Curain informed her of her rights and responsibilities as a Dalahe Norve adult.
"When you are next upon the ground," ze said, "you will be an adult of our community."
("Sky what the fuck happened to the end of this chapter and also the beginning of this chapter" it is what it is okay)
content notices: broken trust, body horror, romance mention, extortion
Daanah was sitting on the that had been assigned to her here with her locs loose and spread out around her, letting her hair dry and struggling to focus on her book, when Miwaanii-Shémelús approached and dropped to his knees.
Daanah frowned. "What are you doing? You know how many people's feet have probably been on that carpet?"
He leaned his head against the mattress. "I have to confess something," he said. "In case we don't both make it tomorrow. I need you to know."
She put her book down. "…Okay."
Don't say you're in love with me, she thought. I don't want to have to reject you.
"I lied."
"Oh. About what?"
"Everything," Miwaanii-Shémelús said in a rush of breath. "From the beginning. Everything. The Vessel of Corysecli wanted an in with another Divine Scribe so ei-nai had me make the arch collapse and pushed you out of the way. The Balance wanted to know about you when you weren't around hir so ze had me get close to you. The Vessel wanted you even more when you turned out to be so powerful. They both want to use you and they've been using me as the route to help them do it."
Daanah found there was nothing she could say.
Miwaanii-Shémelús meant a lot to her.
She had trusted him.
"I'm sorry," said Miwaanii-Shémelús. "You're amazing. All I want is to be good like you and I can't be. I've felt with you like I haven't felt with anyone since… in a very long time. I was honest about all I could be but I lied to you. You're perfect. You deserve so much better than me."
The longer she sat with what he was saying, the less angry she was with Miwaanii-Shémelús and the angrier she was with everyone else.
"Because of the contract," she said.
"Because of the contract," he whispered. "Ei-nai could break my family apart again just as easily as ei-nai gave it back. If I break the contract I will die and they will be split up again."
"And Kéchawaedrii-Orl?" She hadn't expected that of hir.
"Helping me with the Temple," Miwaanii-Shémelús said. He hiccupped, and she knew he was crying. "Pays me extra. Helps them."
"I see."
Miwaanii-Shémelús seemed so… pathetic. So desperate. She hated the way some people- the Vessel of Corysecli, apparently Kéchawaedrii-Orl too- took advantage of desperation.
"Do you want to use me?" she said. "Do you want to hurt me?"
"Never."
Daanah reached down and touched his face like a blessing.
She heard his breath hitch.
"Comrades," she said. She had promised to save him and she would.
He reached up and grabbed her hand against his cheek. "Comrades," he repeated quietly.
Half of Daanah's skin was eyes now. Her head throbbed from what it was doing to her vision.
She wished she was prone to something else. Ausse grew feathers, and Daanah was sure that was painful, but at least it wasn't eyes. They made her so nauseous and her clothes against them was so distracting.
She laid her head down for a minute and tried to close all her eyes to give her brain a break from trying to manage the fractured sight.
"I can feel your magic surging," Miwaanii-Shémelús said from behind her.
Daanah flinched and regretted it. Maybe she had dozed off or maybe she had just been too miserable to notice his approach.
"I'm going to die of this," Daanah said. It was true, although it probably wouldn't be right now.
"Go to bed," Miwaanii-Shémelús said. "I'll finish the charms for you."
"They need my power."
"No, they don't," said Miwaanii-Shémelús. "I'm a Divine Scribe too. They don't need your extra. I've made lots of charms. Save your magic for if you need it tomorrow."
Begrudgingly, she had to admit he was right, and she did really want to go to bed.
"How can I trust you?" she said. "You just admitted to spending the length of our relationship lying to me."
"You can't," he said finally. "I don't expect you to. I'm all you've got. I can give you my word to do it right if it means anything to you."
"Fine," she muttered, because she felt like she'd been run over by a line of trucks.
Kéchawaedrii-Orl could not be trusted. She didn't tell hir that she knew what ze'd done when she and Ausse met up with hir the next morning.
Ausse gnawed on the end of one of his short pair of braids. It was the first thing Daanah had ever seen him do that might indicate anxiety. Purple feathers weeping blood were all over his body, so Daanah assumed they had him to thank for the favourable weather. Ffeira lingered close to his side, with Ptoled protectively watching their backs.
Kéchawaedrii-Orl addressed the soldiers who had defected to their side, and then Daanah spoke too- which she thought she was getting pretty good at- and then Ausse did, and then one of Elyd's representatives. Miwaanii-Shémelús coordinated handing out the charms he'd helped Daanah finish.
Empires Always Fall Chapter Fifty-one: Jue: The Exposition
content notices: context of forced betrothal, entertainment fights, public execution, internalized ableism and ageism, brief ableist idea about another disabled person, POV character forcibly 'sheltered' from information about the world, general infantilization and denial of agency, cold, class hierarchy
The courts were going to see a big exposition in the Zioshue Arena. It was Jue's date with Waleiyi. It was not a private event, but ai-lo had the seat of honour next to hir.
There were going to be singers and dancers, which was okay, and then a show by the Temple of Corysecli, and a then series of fights, which Jue did not like, and then the execution of a big rebel (apparently big- Jue was not to know anything about the ongoing rebellions, as usual), which Jue had been stuck on the toilet for ages this morning upset about.
Flowers wreathed hir seat in the royal box. Jue recognized one of hir favourites, one ze had only mentioned liking in front of Fiitsãn. It sent a pang through hir heart.
"Send my thanks to the gardeners and the arrangers," ze said, hoping it would get to Fiitsãn. Ze was not sure what the status of their relationship was right now, after what ze had said, but Fiitsãn had picked or recommended flowers for hir he knew ze liked and that deserved to be acknowledged.
Ze settled into the cushioned seat and tried to resign hirself to a long, unpleasant day.
As everyone found their spots, Jiremau approached hir. Paona, who was nearby, began to redirect o-mēn, but Jue waved o-lon off.
Ze hoped the wave had not been too dismissive.
"Your Majesty," Jiremau said nervously.
"Your Highness," Jue said, trying to maintain a neutral and friendly tone.
"I wanted to apologize for my behaviour at the ball," Jiremau said. "I hope you can forgive me. I know my royal cousin is more beautiful and more intelligent than I, and I hoped to spark some interest in myself through other means, but I was overly enthusiastic and conducted myself most inappropriately. I am truly regretful."
"I accept your apology," said Jue. Jiremau could not have known ze would react so badly. "I appreciate your honesty."
"Thank you," said Jiremau. "I am ever so grateful."
O-mē made o-mēs way across to o-mēs assigned place.
The show soon started. "Your fondness for music is well-known," Waleiyi said. "Do you come to this arena often?"
"Only when the court comes for big events," Jue said. "I do like the musical part."
"Do you not enjoy the fighting?"
"Not… as much," said Jue. Ze did not want to be seen as weak. "Not to say I dislike any of it! Only that I like the music best."
Waleiyi continued trying to make polite conversation, and Jue continued trying not to ruin the polite conversation.
The musicians played in the Divine Soldiers and Initiates as the dancers faded back. Jue noted from the colours of the uniforms that the Vessel was not present.
Ze frowned. There were only seven Initiates. There had been nine last time ze had seen their display.
"I know your family is connected to the Temple?" Jue said. Ze was embarrassed by the uncertainty in hir voice.
Waleiyi stiffened slightly. "Yes. In my mother's family it is tradition for the second-born child to join the service of Corysecli."
"Is your brother here?" Jue scanned the Initiates' faraway faces, trying to pick out the one who looked the most like Waleiyi.
"Yes," said Waleiyi finally. Ai-lo said no more in the moment, and Jue was too shy to ask, but when the Initiates showed off different tricks, ai-lo pointed at one and said quietly, "That's o-nain."
Waleiyi's brother handily spun a long wooden staff around o-nais body, then dissolved it into dust and sparks of gold magic to a chorous of cheers.
Jue was impressed. Ze always liked seeing artistic displays of magic, despite the ever-present ache of hir own lack of magical ability. The agility, too, was something ze could never manage, but the Initiates were showing it off because their skills were unusual, not something Jue was supposed to do but could not.
Although ze had seen it before, ze was still completely fascinated by how the Lieutenant Initiate pulled the divine sword of Corysecli from within ai-nais own body. It made something in Jue's own flesh recoil, as if hir blood was also being turned to metal, but there was a kind of yearning too, for that kind of command over hirself. It felt like it should not be possible.
Waleiyi huffed. "Nobody uses swords in the real world anymore. When I was at the front-"
Jue pretended to care about Waleiyi's war stories as the Temple finished and the fights started. Ai-lo seemed to have been everywhere, and the way ai-lo told it, personally saved hundreds of people's lives.
One of the fighters took a kick to the chest and went skidding backwards. Jue winced at the cloud of dust that rose as a-fos body hit the ground.
Waleiyi paused in ai-los retelling. "Your Majesty, you know this is all for show, right? The fighters are professionals. They know how to make it look good without doing too much real damage."
Jue swallowed hard. "I know."
Waleiyi nodded sharply. "Good. You are nice to be concerned for them, but know that in this case you have no need to worry."
The fights went on. A Norve fighter held up a banner after winning once, and it caused a stir, but of course Jue did not know what it meant because no one told hir anything.
Finally, it was time for the execution. Jue wanted to cover hir face, but ze would be scolded for childishness.
The traitor looked young when o-pā was brought out to jeers from the crowd, probably not much older than Jue, and only had half an arm in total. Jue had a hard time believing o-pā could be very dangerous, but the numerous guards around o-pān told a different story.
Jue thought distantly of how ze had never seen anyone die before. Ze had known people who had died- more than enough of them- and had seen their bodies afterwards for the funerals, but even with hir stepfather whom ze had been able to say goodbye to, ze had not been there for the moment of death. Ze wondered if it was actually possible to see the soul leave the body.
Ze wondered if the rebel was scared, and if it would hurt for long. Ze hoped not.
An awful, sudden scraping noise echoed all through the arena.
Jue looked around in confusion. Hir gaze followed pointed fingers up to the domed roof.
It was opening.
It was far too cold to have the roof open. Everyone was standing up, looking around, shouting. Ngionah had found the seating attendant for their box and pulled a-rūn aside, probably demanding to know what was going on.
Waleiyi pulled hir up out of hir seat. In the chaos, Jue could not make out a single one of ai-los words.
Ai-lo seemed to recognize this. "Evacuation," ai-lo signed- a sign every Rāmian child knew, part of the basic military list.
Lightning struck in the middle of the arena as Waleiyi put ai-los body between Jue and the sand.
Strong wind pulled at hir tightly-woven hair and long clothes as Waleiyi pulled hir along. Ze had never been so close to a helicopter. Brilliant purple and gold symbols- symbols of gods whose names escaped hir, frustratingly- blazed in the sky.
Ngionah pushed ē-zius way through the courtiers to them. Ē-ziu lifted Jue up like a baby, and hir head spun as ze was suddenly sideways.
"You do not need to-" ze began to say, unheard by anyone.
"I've got it," said Waleiyi irritably. Ai-lo followed them as Ngionah cleared a path out of the arena with ē-zius broad shoulders.
"Please put me-" Jue tried again. Ze bit hir cheek painfully when someone bumped into them.
"Now is not the time to argue, Lady General," said Ngionah. Ē-ziu cocked a hip towards Waleiyi, tilting Jue again, and ze clung to the front of ē-zius jacket. "Take my gun and shoot anyone who gets too close."
As they jostled down a flight of stairs, Jue gave up protesting hir position and buried hir face in Ngionah's uniform and tried to stay still. Ze could feel the walls closing in and the long and bumpy fall that awited hir. Ze was about to cry and was very ready to be done with this.
No tantrums. No tantrums. No tantrums.
Ze was going to die. The arena would collapse and they would be buried alive. Everything was so loud and confusing around them.
Ze clamped down on hir tongue with hir molars and held the fabric of Ngionah's uniform tightly in hir fists. Ze must not scream and ze must not kick and ze must not cry. Ze had to act grown up if ze wanted anyone to ever respect hir.
Tears stung hir eyes now. Ze had to keep them in. Only children got scared and cried.
The biting cold told hir they were outside now. Ngionah and Waleiyi were talking but it was all a meaningless jumble for hir. Ze hated not knowing what they were saying.
Ze wished ze could just cover hir ears. It was frustrating and loud but useless. Hir hands were too cold to loosen hir grip even if ze wanted to.
The air stabbed at hir nostrils when ze tried to breathe away the tears. It hurt.
Then there was warmth again, and the sound of a heavy door falling shut.
"Jue." Ngionah spoke close to hir ear. "We are in the Temple of Corysecli. We are safe now. I am going to put you down in a minute. Stretch out your legs to catch yourself."
Okay. Okay. Jue nodded.
Ze tried to subtly wipe hir face on Ngionah's jacket as ē-ziu set hir down. All it did was knock hir glasses out of place more.
Corysecli, please make me stronger. They were in Her Temple, after all. Maybe it would be different than all the other times ze had prayed for strength. Maybe it would work this time. Maybe.
"Come upstairs, Your Majesty, Lady General, Captain," said the Lieutenant, translating for the Vessel. "We hope the recieving room will be comfortable for you. My Divine Soldiers will bring you blankets and drinks to help you warm up."
"Th-Thank you," said Jue, hir teeth only chattering a little bit. "We are v-v-very grateful."
After bringing them upstairs, the Lieutenant left to get the other Divine Soldiers. Jue tried to smile politely at the Vessel and make the right amount of eye contact and was very conscious of hir poor signing ability. Maybe Waleiyi or Ngionah could do better, except Jue outranked them and it would be inappropriate for them to start a conversation instead of hir.
"Thank you again for hosting us," ze tried. Maybe the cold could cover for hir clumsy hands and red face. Even then, ze was so slow to get out a whole sentence.
The Vessel replied too quickly for Jue to understand.
Ze was glad when the Lieutenant came back. One of the Divine Soldiers was with ū-nain, carrying a pile of blankets.
"The drinks are being prepared," the Lieutenant said.
"Thank you," Jue said again. Ze tucked the thick blanket tightly around hirself. It reminded hir of Talí looking after hir and Fiitsãn when ze had felt so scared and helpless, and that gave hir an idea. Maybe ze could get something for Talí out of this.
As warmth slowly returned to hir bones, ze put on hir scared-est face and most focused mind. "What would be the plan if the rebels attacked the palace like that?"
back to “tips for writing a character with [x] personality disorder?” -> “how to make your VILLAINS EXTRA EVIL MANIPULATIVE BORDERLINE NARCISSIST SOCIOPATHS” / “how to write a character with [different disorder entirely]” and generally a lot of people being ableist shitheads about NPD in particular here on tumblr
so
we’re doing this again, updated for the current/next draft
Characters In And Around Aros Against Fate Who Have Personality Disorders (And Are Not Evil Monstrous Villains Nor The Primary Antagonists):
As a disabled person myself, representation- specifically in my favourite genre of fantasy, specifically for my age demographic of teen/young adult- is very important to me. I don’t think I’ve seen a single character with a canon personality disorder in any book I’ve ever read, which doesn’t mean that there are none out there but does speak to how few there are at all and how I’m sure even fewer of those are written as fully-realized, sympathetic characters rather than demonized, stereotyped caricatures, and my presumption is that if there are any well-written characters with personality disorders they appear only in adult contemporary novels ABOUT living with that personality disorder (or in memoirs). All marginalized people deserve to have their experiences authentically represented in all genres for all age groups, in reflection of themselves and the world around them, and this includes people with personality disorders. (And, to grossly simplify and paraphrase a recent Ncuti Gatwa interview: diverse casts make for better and more interesting art.)
The world of Aros Against Fate is a big one, with an epic-fantasy-scale cast, which makes it a natural place to represent different experiences; among so many characters, it’s only realistic that some of them will have personality disorders. The large cast also gives space for multiple examples of each PD, helping avoid stereotyping and painting a community as a monolith. It is also, in a lot of ways, a story about disability, and doing right by my community means including all sorts of different disabilities, even ones that are heavily stigmatized even by other disabled people and even ones that are harder to find accurate information on writing.
To my peers with personality disorders: I appreciate and cherish you, and I hope to be a drop in the bucket of making you feel seen, and I hope one day there will be so much representation available that I don’t even matter.
for the record Ausse is not really okay after the attempted execution & rescue. she's just a) in shock b) exhilarated from just having her life saved and not being dead, because even if she expected to be rescued it still could have gone wrong and c) she doesn't really know how to deal with all that except to laugh. but he's not okay about it
