#fictional child abuse cw

[stardustdiiving]

Me explaining in terms of strictly how I read canon I think Nahida not severely punishing the Sages is just meant to convey that Nahida, even when wronged, is not a very vengeful or harsh person and makes the choice to be kind instead, but in my mind I have this idea of a Nahida interpretation which elaborates on that where her self punishing tendencies extend to her being someone who internally downplays her own experiences constantly, and as a result has a hard time feeling she’s allowed or justified in placing a lot of blame on the Sages for what they did to her So while she is following her own philosophies regarding teaching lessons/wisdom/etc in how to handle the Sages and genuinely doesn’t want to be really angry or punishing because of who she is as a person, her decision is also influenced by the fact she’s basically blocked herself out of grappling with how to handle people who hurt her by blaming herself for said hurt instead as a coping mechanism. And like this is all just me being insane about Nahida Trauma and not something explicitly implied in canon but also I really do think this isn’t a far stretch from her canon characterization especially when my vision isn’t to conclude that Nahida needs to be angry and vengeful but she should extend the kindness she shows others to herself and also every day I get tormented thinking about she was the mental equivalent of an average human child when the Sages found her and how they basically specifically discarded her for being a child and the idea of how Nahida would pick up on + internalize that and eventually need time to unlearn it

[yeehawpim]

There was once a girl who was hungry

A Coraline fan comic about the/a bedlam I've had kicking around in my head.

To be continued

Part 1

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[pan-magi]

Happy Mother's Day!

(for those who celebrate and for the countries it's celebrated in. I know that not everybody does).

The mothers of Magi are great. I don't necessarily mean all good. The quality (how good they are as mothers) ranges largely from amazing to Gyokuen. That, in itself, is amazing. I like to see parents that aren't the same note, whether good or bad. It's also nice with the variety of mothers especially.

I want to take the time on focusing on one of them, and my conclusion that the most interesting character study in this regard is Scheherazade.

She is a deeply flawed person in this regard. She's a shit mother for the majority of the time with Titus. However, I do not believe it is intentional on her part, or something that she even recognizes right away.

I want to make clear before I get too deep into this that I still love Scheherazade as a character, and this isn't an attack against her but more so an examination of how her motherhood compares to being decent and how it doesn't.

The root of the problem is Scheherazade is the parent who just expects her children to be like her. So much so that she ignores all the agency that they have to be their own person, which will determine that they have different things to give a shit about, ones that do not align with hers.

This makes sense as she makes them as clones, to do something she cannot or else the main one to keep her youth. They are her in the most literal sense. Titus has had self-awareness sustained to where he develops his own thoughts and perspectives. Then Scheherazade doesn't recognize it right away. Eventually, but not right away.

The second flaw for Scheherazade being a good mother is that she loves Reim and the nation she fostered to a fault.

Again, this is something that she recognizes and relents to after being confronted with it. That the love of the country she helped foster and built is actually fucked in some ways. That maybe, quite possibly, being an imperialist slave-trading/owning state is fucked. No shit. How does this impact on how she's a mother to Titus? She uses him as a rally to her troops when invading Magnoshutatt. Scheherazade acts as if he was kidnapped, and that a goal of taking Magnoshutatt is to take him back and bring him to safety. Since it is a message given to the whole battlefield, Titus does hear it and recognizes the bullshit, not that any of the Reim soldiers can see him.

That is messed up to use your authority over a child (or anyone dependent on you) as a reason to harm anyone else and acting like the child endorses the behavior. If someone is fighting for someone else, with the knowledge and consent of that person, yeah, that's cool. If it's defending someone else, like someone standing in between one party and danger, yup, checks out. Using someone else and their perceived safety to actively attack someone, when you know explicitly that goes against their wishes. Nope, not cool.

Some precise examples outside the broad strokes:

When Titus is reporting to Scheherazade, He goes off topic since he is a child who is finally able to be out and about in the vibrancy of the world. That is what he focuses on. She dismisses him and tell Titus to get to the point. It is understandable from her position, but it is unnecessarily harsh. For Titus, he is talking to his mother and hoping to get positive affirmation with sharing his experience. The best case I can describe Scheherazade is she treats him more like an employee. Not an inaccurate descriptor, but Titus is clearly distraught and thrown off guard from the dismissal and Scheherazade shows nothing in addressing it.

That's an awful look for her. However, when meeting up again she tells Titus he should go back to Marga after telling him their lifespan is almost out. He seems taken aback that Scheherazade remembered her. She paid attention to some degree and could guess what he would want to do at the end of his life.

The second is when she overrides her rukh with his to stop Titus from Falling. It is an emergency situation, and her safety is as at risk as much as his. That said completely ignoring his bodily autonomy is uncalled for. Scheherazade does not leave it at that. She takes the opportunity to threaten Mogamett and his country while possessing a child's body. Same as above when I mentioned her using Titus as a reason to be an imperial bitch, this time manipulating Titus quite literally.

All that said, I do see Scheherazade as a decent mother. Why? I think what separates her from say Gyokuen, or Aum Madura, is that she is ignorant on Titus being his own person. She's not used to her clones to have the degree of autonomy that Titus has. She treats him as an employee and extension of herself but despite it all I have never felt malicious intent. It doesn't excuse her, but it is understandable. Unlike the latter two, who fully know they are destroying children's lives for their benefit and have no compassion for them.

Scheherazade lets him go. She apologies to Titus, and he does not have to forgive her. He does because he's precious, and he sees her as someone who was his anchor and who told him about how wonderful the world was before he could see it. Titus was so hurt by her coldness because he believed she cared. She shows she does. Scheherazade is heartbroken and furious when she realizes that Titus died and used the last of his energy to try to save Mogamett.

What she does, at the end of the day, is give up her prolonged life as a reborn magi. She has lived long enough and recognized her flaws in being conservative and stuck in her ways while passionately loving the country she fostered. None of that matters though because her goal and final desire is to give her child life. The cost is meaningless. And of course Ugo listens. It is the same promise he fulfilled for Sheba with Aladdin. Kids are all right. And they deserve to live.

I think Scheherazade is one of the most interesting characters in Magi. I wanted the opportunity to talk about this part of her. Once more I need to mention how I love the mothers in Magi. A lot of the time, there's a crapload of breakdowns and devotions on how father's can differ, especially in a male targeted demographic like shounen. Not that there isn't the same for the father's in Magi (honestly there's more to pick at for father's in Sinbad no Bouken imo). The best in the main series is Sinbad and Alibaba. And I'm okay with that. Don't think I will have the time to have a similar breakdown by Father's Day. Maybe another time then.

[the-bar-sinister]

I've already talked about my headcanons and speculation about Kristoph and Klavier's parents and upbringing based on their behavior in the game. Extremely abusive, neglectful, and concerned primarily with appearances.

I'm going to go a step further and say specifically that Kristoph bit his nails as a child and was punished in a severe and memorable way for it, giving him a complex about it in particular.

"First rate in all things. Accept nothing less." -- Kristoph Gavin, parroting his father.

[purgemarchlockdown]

Magic as a TV Show

(CWs: Child Abuse, Cults) (Edit: Did some light editing, still a bit messy but should be fine now)

So, it's not a secret that I'm a big fan of Magic. It's my favorite T1 MV and one of my favorite Milgram MVs in general. Even before Purge March I'd re-watch it over and over again just because I liked it so much.

One of my favorite things about it is the way the visual language and symbolism develops over it's runtime, and with Purge March it's gotten ever better so lets talk about it!

Based on True Events

So, Magic is the very cheery TV Show that is based on the horrors going on backstage, and it's also aware of it's own fictional nature. It ends with the real Amane watching the show. It knows it's a world created by a 12 year old who wants to be Good.

This causes something interesting when viewing it's imagery. As Magic depiction of events can be both very literal and very metaphorical at the same time.

For example: Something that surprised most people (including myself) is the cat being real, and while it is representative of Something (which we will get to) it is very much an actual cat that was killed.

Magic plays with what is real and what is fictional very loosely, and while certain things Happen in the real world, you can't really separate the real from the fictional here. It's too interconnected with each other and the imagery would lose it's impact if you did separate them.

So with that established it's visual analysis time!

The Set

So Magic is set in one place for the majority of it's runtime. This set! Which resembles a lot of educational kid's tv programs, usually ones for preschool and under.

Here's are sets from an early season of Hi-5 and Imagination Movers to compare.

You can see the similarities, it's heavy on bright colors and wacky designs, the logo of the show is plastered Somewhere you can easily see, and only some of the props can actually be used!

These two examples are also very music based. Both of them being shows starring children's musical groups.

The animals here (except for the Cat which is in a Complicated situation) are probably representative of the audience. The other people of the cult being taught along with Amane.

Audience Participation is a big thing for shows like this, you'll see them perform with a bunch of children on the side cheering and dancing. It's a fun time for everyone!

Going back to the set, while the main set only has the colorful stage we do see a few props in Magic. You can see a Choir book right here so the group can sing.

A Whiteboard to teach.

A Donation box to show your generosity.

And...

A Game Show Stage to see if you understood the lesson.

Age Rating

I've talked...extensively before on how Pain is handled in Magic and while that post is outdated because I posted it right before Purge March a lot of it still stands to some extent.

Amane's pain in Magic is downplayed in Magic, it's nothing serious. Even though this pain is something Inflicted Onto Amane Physically by Gatacha.

I was going to talk a bit about corporeal punishment in Japan before realizing that this isn't even something that is considered a punishment. It's just a finger flick. This is something your older brother does to you cause he thinks its funny. It's the lightest possible kind of "punishment" there is.

This makes Amane's reaction to it seem silly. An Overreaction to something that isn't even that bad. She has cartoonish swirls and falls over dramatically. It's...Immature of her to react like this.

Even though we know these are injuries are much more serious than they are shown here. Magic doesn't portray them as serious, and also portrays Amane as Immature for acting like this.

Which points to something interesting, as I said this show resembles a preschool show and it's strange that twelve year old Amane Momose, almost a teenager Amane Momose, is existing in a world like this.

It gets even weirder when we consider that, while Amane most likely hasn't been exposed to much media her mind still conjures up a marching band in Purge March and she talks very "adult" in both her VDs and hates it when people treat her like a child.

Not only that, but Amane Momose in both Purge March And Magic is drawn visibly older than she actually is.

It's not the easiest to see because I can't find a good picture but you can see it in just the face shape. Outside of Magic and Purge March Amane's face is more squishy, with less defined cheeks and bigger, rounder eyes. While Magic and Purge March have her face be more defined and her eyes smaller and sharper. Making her look more like a young teenager rather than the seven year old. She's even called Big Sister Amane in Magic's credits.

If Amane Momose's mind is depicting her as older than she actually is, and Amane Momose outside of it acts very "adult" and hates it when people treat her like a child. Why then does Magic portray her actions as immature? Why is she put in the spot of a preschooler learning from their teachers?

Why is Amane Momose, in her mind, stuck in a preschool show?

Well, there's two layers to this.

First of all, Good preschool shows are usually very empathetic to the kids watching them and good preschool shows don't patronize or talk down to the viewers.

Even if the problem is seemingly irrational or nonsensical.

It's important to be empathetic with your viewers.

And to treat it their problems and issues with respect and understanding.

A concept that would be very appealing to Amane Momose, person who gets tortured for even showing a smidge of "impurity."

Second, why...wouldn't Amane Momose be portrayed as the preschooler learning here? She's the one constantly messing up, still not a good girl even though she should have learned by now. She's immature by the standards of her cult.

She's the perfect actor for this role, a girl that cannot be a good girl but wants to be.

Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl I hope, I hope everyone can be happy and smile Forever, forever together would be a dream

The big sister that everyone can learn from, a character who has to learn from the older more experienced folk in the cast before becoming like them. The one who fails so that everyone else can learn.

This is the role Amane Momose has given herself.

Well...that and one other thing.

Cast

Will I ever get over the cat parallels?

The answer is no, but ignoring that, Amane has gotten two acting roles! The cat here is both the actual Purge March cat but is representative of Amane. As seen by how the injuries on the cat are her injuries in Magic and Purge March and how the cat gets directly paralleled with her in shots. This cat is, for all intents and purposes, both The Cat and Amane.

This gives the scene where Amane helps the cat a neat double meaning. Amane is helping the cat but it's also symbolically her helping herself...and failing.

Because Your not supposed to escape your trial.

Amane: Both pain and illness are trials.

This is one of the worst things you can do.

Amane: According to our teachings, those who run from them are the worst evil there is. That’s one of the four great principles. No matter who you are, that cannot be forgiven.

Your especially not supposed to steal those trials away.

Amane: Oh – speaking of which, there is one among the prisoners right now. An evil existence that’s trying to steal people’s trials away from them.

The cat is Amane's sinful desires to escape pain and help people, because that's Bad Apparently. She is cast as both the sinner and the thing that tempts people to sin. The corruptive force and the one who falls for it.

If were talking TV: She's the one in those 90s PSA episodes who gets Wrapped up in a Bad Thing and also the person who's the gateway to the Bad Thing.

(Blueepink has a wonderful addition to one of my posts over here which elaborates on this and is what made me realize it in the first place. Go read it she talks about some fun animal symbolism in it!)

Amane does however redeem herself in the end. You can always learn to be better after all. Even if you are the Worst Girl.

But you can't get rid of the devil that easily, she had some help!

(You can't get rid of the devil that easily in general, but it's nice to imagine you could-)

Let's talk about the mascots!

And Crew

So as people have noted each mascot corresponds to one of the doctrines.

In Magic introduction order we have:

Gachata- ’Tis ordained, thou shall stay thine course, then perish Yuri- ’Tis ordained, thou shall deliver unto those thou believest in Gozake -’Tis ordained, thou shall discard vulgarity Riyone- ’Tis ordained, thou shall follow thine destiny

(Fun fact: The doctrines are introduced opposite to how the mascots are introduced in Purge March. I don't know what this means but it certainly is interesting)

Like a lot of children's tv show groups, each mascot seems to be focused on a specific task/idea.

Gachata is Teaching Yuri is Donations Gozake is Choir And Riyone is Complicated

Each design reflects this in one way or another. Gachata is a robot because robots are associated with being smart and logical. Yuri's clothes are patched up and he's wearing a bin making him look, well poor. Gozake is in priest's wear and has a Conductor's Baton and Riyone...

Well, she has bandage ears. But that's a weird design choice isn't it? Especially since the cult is so against medicine, or more accurately against escaping pain, that Wrapping a Handkerchief around a cat's leg is considered wrong.

Amane literally wants to kill Shidou Right Now for violating that rule...so why does Riyone have bandages?

The answer is she doesn't, this is Magic Exclusive Design Choice.

Here is the best picture of Riyone I Could get in Purge March.

These are not the same ears, their rounder and smaller and don't have the bandage holes at the end.

Do you know what else is weird about Riyone?

This sequence.

Because as Amane has stated in the T2 VD, your not supposed to run from pain.

So why is Riyone suggesting healing the cat's physical injury through prayer?

Especially since, presumably, the rule about pain is under her. She's the one representing it.

Well, this is Amane's fictional TV show. The one she's writing to bring herself comfort. Why Wouldn't she want Riyone to be a healer who could stop the pain?

You will note that this gives extra responsibility onto Amane for not following what is the obvious Good Action. Healing the Cat with Prayer would have Fixed everything but she had to go Too Far and needed to be taught a Lesson and now the cat is Gone.

Riyone is also paralleled with her mom.

This is probably due to the rule she's associated with, as that's the rule her mom punished Amane for breaking and the rule Amane punished her for breaking.

Amane has Not acknowledged that what was done to her was Wrong, she has just acknowledged the hypocrisy of the action. Riyone is portrayed as right for punishing her since it Is her doctrine she broke, while her mom is portrayed as wrong because she was not able to live up to her own standards.

This is probably why Riyone doesn't disappear in the end. As said above, Magic plays very fast and loose with what is real and what is metaphorical. Riyone represents her mom Yes but She's more representative of the rule, a rule that Amane still (wants to) believe in it.

For now at least.

Lighting

So I haven't mentioned the stage light yet even though it's a really important part of it, it's what sets off the chain of events that end in Winged Amane. It's the most real looking thing in this entire MV.

In a move I will find funny forever, this is one of the few things in Magic that doesn't seem to be connected to any specific real world event, object, or person. This stage light is most likely, purely a metaphor.

The way it disguise its nature is really interesting to me. Magic is so obviously fictional and fantasized that the real looking stage light stands out, especially since it hurts The Cat. It's unexpected and concerning, it feels out of place in this cheery world.

Except, I've mentioned it multiple times now that Magic plays fast and loose with the boundaries of fiction and reality. Magic is a show and it knows it. This Stage light was always apart of it's visual identity as a show.

This Stage light is the most obvious Show element out of everything. It's the lighting AND the inciting incident. An important backstage element and an important story element all wrapped up into one light.

This is also probably a reference to an early scene in the Truman Show.

The light falling is one of the first things that clues Truman to the nature of his world. It's the inciting incident because Truman starts noticing more strange things happening in his town, and an important backstage element, a star in the sky.

Plus, the stagelight was already breaking when we see it in Magic, we can see it flicker for a few seconds before falling.

It wasn't sabotaged with the intent to hurt. The light of this world is Literally Breaking. This image of stable happiness was never going to last forever and has probably been broken multiple times in the past.

It just so happened that The Cat was the one it fell on-top of this time.

Audience

I would go into more costuming or the storybook sequences in Magic if this post wasn't already so long. I think Magic is a deeply interesting MV and honestly it doesn't even feel like I'm scratching its surface sometimes.

I sometimes call it Amane Momose's self-insert hurt/comfort fix-it-fic because that really is what Magic is. It's her fix-it fic. Her TV series. Her maladaptive daydream that makes her feel like she still Has Something to hold onto.

Even I can say "I'm sorry" Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it!

This is actually something she shares a bit with Fuuta but if we talked about those parallels we would be here forever and it's also very much out of the scope of this post.

But, as I mentioned, we see Amane watching it at the end. She's an audience member for her own show, detached from all the silly, empathetic, understanding, fun events going on in that world.

Amane Momose is Very Aware that the world she wants isn't real.

But even so, that Want for it to be real is going to bleed into everything.

[the-axolotl-skellie]

Toothless.

This... turned out darker than expected ^^"

Tw for implied CSA, bulimia, purging/vomiting, self starvation/refusing to eat, trauma, gross food, food trauma, food issues, psychological torture, obsession with control!

☽️Reblogs appreciated!☾️

The man who spoke in hands had his ways of getting want he wanted. Rather that be sexual pleasure or an unnecessary experiment. And Lune never got what they wanted, rather it be their consent or their opinion heard.

But Lune was rebellious.

So there were punishments.

The man who spoke in hands would purposefully only serve a dish he knew Lune had a negative reaction to. For whatever reason, the 'creature' would rather starve themself than consume it.

So Lune stopped being rebellious.

They gave in.

There was a time though, when the man who spoke in hands realized that a self inflicted punishment was not a punishment at all. He couldn't let Lune get their way by obeying him, and therefore getting served their regular meal.

So he decided if he gave the food, they would eat it.

...

After three days, Lune eventually gave up their protest, choking diwn the disgusting mush in order to not die of hunger.

And later that night, they ended up vomiting it up. That was one of the first times Lune had experienced vomiting.

It was freeing. Something... about not having that in them anymore, was librarianship to them. Like the man had not gotten his way. Like Lune won.

And so that day, food became another reminder of their lack of control. Lune needed food, but they didn't want it.

As years passed, and after they were taken in by Lust, it was still a thing that haunted them.

Anytime they had to sit down and eat, their mind immediately associated it with punishment, even if the food itself was fine. Anytime they had to eat it, their mind associated it with a lack of control.

Thry didn't like that, even if they didn't fully understand it.

And one time, Lust made refried beans, which, absolutely set Lune off into what could be described as a full blown meltdown. Because they didn't want that, but they didn't know why so they didn't communicate why.

So Lust was scrambling to try and calm down Lune, who eventually fled from the dinner table to the bathroom. The bathroom was a safe place, with water and privacy.

Running the bathtub wasn't an option though, they hadn't figured out how to turned it on. So that was just making their day more shitty.

Eventually they just started sobbing. Everything was bad today, everything! The food, the lack of swimming, lack of control, everything!

And then they felt sick again.

And that reminded Lune of an old trick they learned with the man.

And that they hadn't used it here, because there wasn't a reason to rebel again Lust, he was just trying to help...

But this helped too.

Lune had mildly calmed down, and crawled over to the toilet, peering inside.

Lust wasn't even in their thoughts by the time they did it. Raised two webbed skeleton fingers. The time they started purging. Amd even if they had been thinking of their current caretaker, this wasn't anything against Lust.

This was against food.

[grandwretch]

i dont know/understand what's going on, but im sorry you're in distress. i hope you'll get better

honestly nothing is going on-- this is old news, but honestly I don't keep up with "book fandom" things that often. books, especially my vintage paperback collection, are more personal to me than fandom is. it's not something I feel inclined to share with others on the internet that often, unless the book series is a big fad. fandom is more for movies and TV shows, at least for me.

I just happened to find out that one of the authors who made me feel human again (Mercedes Lackey) after I was victimized knowingly collaborated and was friends with someone who victimized her daughter and others (Marion Zimmer Bradley), as well as supplied her husband (Walter H. Breen) with victims. They were basically trafficking teenage fans/children of fans and colleagues. And of course, I was too late in being born to ever be in danger from them, but it does feel like a personal betrayal, to know that the people who wrote my experiences so closely could have watched them happen to someone else and never said a word, not even to this day.

And all this happened the night after a dentist appointment, which is my biggest fear due to a physically abusive dentist as a toddler, so I'm having a bit of a spiral. I know this all seems terribly dramatic from the outside, but for the last six hours I've been plagued by awful memories completely unrelated to either trigger, most of which I'd entirely forgotten.

Anyway, thank you for your well wishes. I will try to be better soon-- Or at least able to pretend, as I have work tomorrow. Maybe the spiral will help me write today; God knows that was the only time I ever got OBTS written.

[galedribble]

CW: Traumatic experiences / character backstory / child abuse

I am currently rewatching KOTH and I’ve forgotten how severely traumatized Hank is. It’s no wonder he’s so uncomfortable with physical contact from even his close friends and family. He’s been through a lot of very traumatic experiences throughout his childhood and adulthood.

-He was verbally abused by his father

(I can’t confirm if he was physically abused by Cotton but I assume so? He definitely seems like the type to but I’m not entirely sure)

-Witnessing his mother be dehumanized and used like a doormat

-He got paddled in school

-He’s been forcibly kissed several times as a young teen and an adult

-His old football coach was a total creep with his team

(His coach straight up kissed Bill that one episode they were all reminiscing about their old football days that clip made me sooo uncomfortable)

-A cop took advantage of her power and threatened to arrest Hank if he didn’t let her frisk/grope him

There’s several more instances I’m forgetting but yeah this dude has been through a lot yet has never laid a hand on his family not once. He chose to end the cycle of abuse. Hank Hill is such a well written character, I really hope this reboot does the show Justice. I’m expecting it to be ass considering how many crappy reboots there are now. I wish they would just leave older shows like KOTH, Daria and Scooby doo alone. Reboots are so overdone right now let’s hope they don’t fuck this one up.

; w ;

[lilyrizzy]

my own cloud for the wip game!

I've talked about it a little bit before (check out the tag for some writing too:D) but brief synopsis under the cut

Cw child abuse/csa

Maxiel fic centred around Max coming to terms with his abuse because his younger sister (Blue Jaye) reports years and years later that the same thing happened to her, resulting in a very public trial that Max decides to testify in

But like, it's not a court drama or true crime or anything, like that's just "the trigger" I guess for lack of better phrase that sets the fic in motion.

[the-bar-sinister]

Whitebeard was Crocodile's father, and he hated him. He'd idolized him, when he was small and foolish and hadn't understood that he would never have his father's respect.

Crocodile was ten when his father laughed in his face.

"I'm going to be a captain someday, like you are, I'm going to be king of the pirates!"

"You don't have the talent, my boy. No conqueror's haki. But you'll be a fine man in my fleet."

Hurt and humiliation turned to rage. Whitebeard saw him as nothing more than one of his underlings.

He swore that he would prove him wrong.

-

AO3 link

[purgemarchlockdown]

The horror that is Amane being found by her Father doing the murder is haunting me- I'm scared what would happen if she was returned to her situation, I'm really scared.

I think it really just comes with the knowledge that...Amane could of very easily been the murder victim here. Like a lot of characters could of been but Amane sticks out to me due to how Physically Violent her punishments got. They were Consistently Physically Violent and often Very Extreme Forms of Violence.

She could of died, very easily, and we would just not have Amane Momose in prison.

And I guess...the idea that the world where Amane Momose lives is the one where Amane kills someone weighs on me ig.

[bigyikes97]

Abyss of Neptune: Seems like a straightforward Cthulu-style horror, BUT...

(Screenshot: Abyss of Neptune)

SPOILERS!!

The 'god' was created by scientists who fabricated a cult to "play God". The cult allowed them to facilitate their own wild experiments without having to answer to morality. Their deity may just as well have been curiosity, the cursory nod they needed to disregard the sacredness of humanity for some very awful experiments. I'm usually super not about cults in games, but I think this one was done very well--a cult whose supernatural element was made by its members, I thought, was some solid food for thought.

Now, there WAS an icky, evil monster! Most definitely! Jumpscares galore and moody, murky, creepy-as-heck design. Now it's not very difficult to scare me, but I did surprise myself by screaming at one of the jumps. So don't let the lack of universe-breaking stuff stop you from playing; it's definitely worth it! Instead, there is a lesser god...but one cobbled together by entirely human means, from wretched experiments called "rituals" that, I thought, put science and spirituality poignantly on the same plane. That 'god' is a sorry mess that efficiently terrifies as a 'lab monster', but ultimately underwhelms when the cosmic scale of what it was supposed to be was revealed. I thought distinctly, "THAT was the 'god' this whole time?!" I think that's a lovely thematic point: A failed, gross, nasty monster that overpromises and underdelivers, in a failed, gross, nasty lab whose former splendor is now only pitied and reviled.

Like the visions of cosmic grandeur that drove these scientists to commit atrocities, the monster overpromises and underdelivers in terms of universe-shaking godhood, in a temple/lab whose former splendor is now only pitied and reviled. The result was as deceptive to its creators as the profane ideas that spawned it. It's dangerous, scary, and evil--like the people who made it--but it's to be pitied, not worshipped. I definitely think that's the point and a well done one at that. Grandiose ideas that require divesting oneself of humanity will always have that same end: far from attaining godhood, a transformation into a beast that only knows how to devour. They will always fall short of what they promise and end in disappointment, unmet expectations, and death.

The scientists are fanatical cultists in a faith of their own creation, and it's a wonderfully on-the-nose warning in an era of technologies that can push the limits of ethics further than ever before: gene edited babies, cloning, 'living modular beings', robot zombie spiders (ok that one's not a moral thing but I think it's a pretty stupid one! Like, have they never seen a movie?). Some of the most academically advanced people I know are the most spiritual. I know a successful astrophysicist who believes whole-heartedly in astrology (not astronomy), rightly deducing that the same way the physical world follows rules and organizations, the unseen components of our existence must do so as well. And the way in which these spiritual aspects are processed by powerful, intelligent people can be the difference between benefit and atrocity. Speaking of which...

CONTENT WARNING: children are harmed. It's discovered that the scientists spliced and mutated children into the evil ocean creatures and the cobbled 'god' that we meet. And usually I nope hard out of stuff when that comes up. But in this case? I think it's a poignant talking point that must be addressed, because it can and does happen. The innocent, voiceless, powerless ones are the first victims of powerful adults who have 'greater missions'. The fact that there was no god in the first place is what makes it so impactful. The scientists created the god they wanted to see from the bodies of innocent victims. I think that is a thought that deserves to be lingered with, and a sharp social commentary about what happens when powerful people with voices label powerless voiceless people as subhuman disposable commodities.

[babycharmander]

[ID: Screenshot of tags reading (with swearing removed and typos corrected): “#omg literally I’ve played at tabletops where people confidently ask to do the most … insane evil stuff and then they’re like #oh it’s just a game come on #and I’m like oh so this is how your brain works when you think there’s no consequences and you’ve got unlimited power” /end ID]

To be clear it IS important before a game to work out what everyone is and is not okay with. Boundaries are important and if someone is like “hey can we not do X thing in the game” then an agreement of some kind has to be made—either that player’s wishes are respected, or that player does not play, or the player that really wants to do that thing does not play.

But yeah like… if folks at the table are okay with everything, then it’s fine. You’re participating in fiction, and playing a villain or a character who does something messed up can be fun for some folks. I’ve enjoyed RPing villains, myself, though I have to draw boundaries sometimes because there’s just some stuff I am personally not comfortable with having one of my characters do to another character.

Also, I skimmed some of the notes here and saw one comment saying something to the effect of “D&D is not therapy.”

Except… it is?? RPing is therapy, writing is therapy, art is therapy—or they all can be, anyway. Fiction is cathartic. Any therapist will tell you this. Once again, so long as everyone at the table is okay with what’s happening, then RP away.

people really live like this huh. yeah there's no consequences because you're playing a game of make-believe..?

[xarrixii]

Chapter_19 : "Trust Fall"

reader discretion is advised, please read through the warnings on this chapter before reading.

TW: depictions of borderline child abuse

CW: emotional meltdown, mentions of pills, depictions of shouting, depictions of crying, negative self-talk, arguing, mention of a pedophile, + potentially more

Alph (or Raiden) uses they/them pronouns Harlow (or Urban) uses he/him pronouns previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

/ / / / / | ---

There was a crash.

Harlow fought off the urge to swing himself around, unsuccessful in his attempt to keep his heart rate steady as well. The crash was followed by a groaned out “fuck” and it took everything Harlow had not to look to the adjacent seat to his left. It failed.

It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to sit next to him in the library and have a conversation. With years of self-schooling came a lot of curious adults and less than sensitive kids.

“Hey. Uh⸺You know, I wasn’t really planning on, hmm.” Raiden waved from the floor. The chair’s base frame was still together, but everything else had fallen right through. Including its unknowing passenger. The chairs had been broken and breaking for the past three years after a school donated them to the underfunded library, some still half wet. Harlow had helped unpack them from the truck, not caring enough to ask about it.

For a nine-year-old, that mostly meant holding open the door.

Harlow stifled a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I was warned that the chairs sucked. I just—y’know. Didn’t care.”

The silence that unfolded after made Harlow realize how stupid he must look. A dilapidated pair of earbuds and a pdf file filled with something about the recent history of kinetics research.

“You’re alright, though?”

“Oh I’m, great down here. It’s been like”—Raiden started to count their fingers—“a month since I’ve seen you. Since you didn’t come with anyone to the gamecon, I assumed you must have walked, and then I remembered you saying you studied down here at the library, so I’ve been very inconspicuously coming down here to ‘study.’ ”

Harlow had to consider that for a moment before snickering and then shutting himself up. That’s impolite. Don’t fucking do that. “Are you the ‘rambunctious weirdo’ they were talking about when I got here?”

Raiden raised their eyebrows from the floor. “Who’s they?”

“The librarians. The two ladies who would see you come in, do nothing for like, an hour, and then leave.”

“I knew they despised me. And what’s rambunctious about watching police chases on my school-issued laptop in a library? Do I get no privacy from gossip?” Raiden accepted their fate on the floor with planks of chair wood under their back. “You must come here pretty often for them to talk to you. I couldn’t get them to talk to me more than ‘careful with the chairs.’ ”

He blinked a few times. Started taking in the situation.

“Wait, you were looking for me? Deliberately?”

“Uh, yeah. Who wouldn’t?...” Harlow de-focused as Raiden kept talking. My mother. “Hello? Earth to Urban, master of kinetics and warfare? He who shunned himself from the world? Raiden’s sparring⸺”

“Sorry.”

Raiden squinted. Harlow had a sudden urge to change the subject.

Luckily, Raiden did it for him, “So you only study once a month? Man, maybe I should ask to be homeschooled too.”

“No. No,” Harlow started before looking at the way Raiden’s face twisted. “I mean, I study more than once a month. It’s usually, usually at least twice a week if I can. I’ve just had, uh, had other commitments for a while.”

Raiden grinned.

Somehow, it broke a smile out of Harlow’s face. “What?”

“I know a really good arcade downtown,” Raiden said. Harlow saw the social calculations flitting through their eyes. Something else, too, that he couldn’t explain.

Screw it. “Sounds like fun.”

“...Do you hate me?”

Alph’s mouth immediately soured after they said the words. They’d been riding on the thought for a couple weeks, all the confidence in the world trying and failing to give them the push to say it. In the end, their dad was the one who told them to just get it out before anything got any worse.

Urban’s step faltered in front of them.

They could barely see it through the waning moonlight, the light that had to fight to make it through the crack of the alley. Alph suddenly wanted to keel over and ask him to forget about it, but they knew that wouldn’t happen.

“No,” Urban said quietly. “I don’t.”

Something about that didn’t feel right, and Alph began talking before registering that they were while clenching their fist, “I don’t know. Like, there’ll be times when you text me back instantly, and we talk for hours about something random. Or, you’ll text right after you’re done doing whatever. But sometimes it’ll take, like, a week, and you won’t elaborate on it. Like I, I did something and you didn’t want to tell me. It took you a whole month, back in March.”

He went silent. Deathly still, lost in thought as he so often was.

Looking for some sort of lie.

“Do, am, am I doing something wrong?” Alph cringed at their voice cracking on ‘wrong.’

“It’s... complicated. I’m not supposed to bring it up.”

“There,” Alph exasperated without thinking. “Right there, you’re lying again. I just⸺ I’ll leave you alone if you want me to, okay? You don’t have to feel guilty about the phone, or anything. I’ll walk away if you want me to.”

Urban took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to walk away, I just...” Alph braced for it again. “Let’s go get that ice cream?”

Alph bore their eyes into the back of Urban’s skull. Urban sighed when Alph continued not to respond, putting a hand into his front pocket. Their fist unraveled in silence. Maybe Alph just got so wrapped up in nice pretty boy they forgot to actually use their brain.

“...Rai?” Urban prodded.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about this. Believe me, I didn’t want to either. But it worried me. And now it, I think it just hurts.”

“It’s not...” Urban stuttered, “I don’t, it’s not you, okay? You’re fine. It’s something else entirely. You don’t have to worry about it. It’s my problem alone. It—can we forget about it?”

Alph puts a hand in their hair and moves it up for it to aimlessly fall back down to where it was. “If it’s not me, then what is it?”

Urban couldn’t answer that.

“So it’s me. Alright. I understand.” Alph took that finality and turned to walk back down the alley, back to their bike to pedal home and throw some object at a wall.

“It’s not you!” Urban yells. When Alph turns back to look at him, he’d turned to look at Alph. Their heart panged as Urban bit down his volume, “It’s not you.”

“Then who is it, Urb? You won’t even tell me your real name, and I’m supposed to think you’re telling the truth right now? I mean, shit, what kind of friends are we if we don’t know each other’s names? What if you got seriously hurt and I didn’t know your information for the ambulance? That’s not even safe!”

Alph had raised their arms in wild gesticulation, realizing enough in the silence that followed to drop them with lazy disbelief.

Urban’s mouth opened to speak, then clamped shut again. Alph laughed.

“You know how proud you are of your father?” Urban said at a little above a whisper. Alph nodded. “How he saves kids? How he gives them a, a chance to learn how to control their kinetic? How at the faintest call, he gets sent out to help adults the same way? So they’re not a, what, a danger? How you keep saying, ‘I’m gonna be just like my dad when I’m older?’ ”

“What does this have to do with⸺”

Urban ignored Alph’s intervention, still half-mumbling. “No, I know you know. I don’t know why I even asked. You want to help kids, you love the idea of saving everyone by stuffing their hands into some metal crib for a while. The hand⸺”

“Kinetic handcuffs,” Alph finishes.

“⸺binders.” Urban’s entire body stiffens. His voice raises and turns sharp. “They’re hand binders. That’s what they fucking are, and you refuse to admit it. You can’t even fathom the idea. You know what,” Urban laughs, sniffling, “all of you refuse to admit it. I don’t think there’s a single person on this fucked up trashcan of a world that wants to.”

“The kinetic handcuffs⸺”

“Binders,” Urban corrects.

Alph fights the urge to bite down. “The kinetic binders are used on people who either deserve or need them. Criminals, awakened kids, unruly pyrokinetics, you know, the ones that put everyone in danger. Those pyros.”

“I’m pyrokinetic, Raiden!” Urban lets out a bemused huff, suddenly yelling. “Is that what you fucking wanted? That what you wanted me to fucking say? I’m one of those fucked up, unruly kids that wield flame you like to put in a cage so damn much. The one that helps kids.”

Alph shut up fast.

“You want to know where I disappear to so often for weeks? Congratulations, you fucking won. You finally beat me at your sick game. Rehab. I go to rehab because that’s the only place that people like you think I belong. It’s where you all shove everyone you don’t want. Oh, shove their hands in some metal, stretching, what the fuck is that? Eat with your mouth like some kind of dog because God forbid you deserve human decency. Why would you ever want to chance that some class-D child would suddenly spring up flame from their fingertips like some maniac that should be in prison? I sat next to a murderer once at lunch. They put me next to a pedophile once. We’re all pyrokinetic, so why would that matter?”

Urban looked into Alph’s eyes, like he was searching for something. Some sort of acknowledgment before he set off to laughing. And then crying.

“We’re all monsters! That’s what it is, we’re all just monsters. And you praise everyone who does it to them, does it to me. But you are the only FUCKING person that I have, and I keep lying, and lying, and changing the god-damned subject because I am so, so afraid you will leave.” He wipes tears out of his eyes that get quickly replaced through choked sobbing. “What do you want from me?”

Alph didn’t move. They couldn’t. They didn’t have anything to say.

“I have to cover up my hands and arms so nobody can see the cuff burns. I have to sit alone in a library and read pdf articles because I’m too much of a danger to be sent to school. I taught myself to sew metal catches onto jeans with my mouth when I was seven because I got so sick of unbuttoning and buttoning my own fucking pants! I learned to bow my head and let children wring their hands around my neck so they could get off the fucking floor!

“I was the only one I had. Nobody has me but myself in that hellhole. My hands are considered more dangerous for me to have than a rusted sawblade because I am a mistake!” Urban jabbed his index finger into his chest. “I can’t ever use my own fucking kinetic in public without being a mistake! You minus well change the term to pyromaniac because that’s all I fucking am to you people.

“If this is what you wanted to hear, then fine. I’ll go back to being the one nobody wanted again. I will go back to helping myself, I will go back to choking on pills, and I will go back to being a mistake because I have always been, and will always, always be a mistake.”

Alph jumped back when a white-blue flame erupted out of Urban’s hand, engulfing each finger in a warm hug. Urban’s volume dropped, struggling again to keep his voice low and steady. The word mistake continued to slice through the air.

“So yes, I’m fine. I am fine and it is definitely not you. I am a mistake.”

Alph watched the swinging of the fire as it followed Urban’s hand to his side. A stray cat jumped out of a nearby box with a disgruntled meow and bounded off toward the street.

I’m sorry refused to leave Alph’s throat. It lodged in there in the disbelief that they hadn’t noticed the signs any sooner. The flame confined to Urban’s hand with a melted-in precision slowed to orange.

Urban followed Alph’s gaze down to his hand.

He freaked out. Slammed down his reaction with all the composure he had left, tried to wave his own fire away. Horrified. Took one last look at Alph.

“This was a mistake.” Urban ran off after barely scraping out in a cried whisper, being enveloped into the dark as Alph stood upright, suddenly very, very alone.

“Thanks,” Alph muttered to the woman at the front desk. She waved as they walked away, still pulling the Visitor Pass lanyard over their head. Alph was not aware of the almost prison-like security detail around the entire thing.

The first time they’d tried, Alph had been stopped at the door asking for their ID. They had pulled out their school ID, but the security guard shook his head and said Alph needed one commenting on their kinetic, not just their name. Alph had snapped a small flame into their hand as evidence enough, but the guard shook his head again.

The second time, Alph returned with their evaluated awakening ID after scrambling through their dad’s safe to find it. Their last class evaluation was the awakening itself five years ago.

So they let Alph in, and then Alph had to demonstrate their pyrokinesis in a controlled room. They upgraded them from C to B and said they’d issue out a new ID in the mail sometime in the next month.

Then they had to call their dad while he was at work for proof of parental consent to be walking into what all the guards around called the ‘prison zone.’

Now that Alph had the visitor pass, “What’s your purpose for visiting the Center...” the person standing guard in front of the prison zone door asked, one hand resting on a sharpie in her belt. She looked at their visitor pass. “Alph?”

“I’m here to see a friend of mine,” Alph replied tiredly.

“What’s their name?” She took out a notepad from her belt and hastily wrote down visit friend in big sharpie letters.

“Harlow Collins.” Alph had seen the name too many times on their computer screen to forget it.

She looked warily at Alph before scribbling that down, too, and then the time.

“Everything you do is being monitored and you need to leave by two oh seven. Have fun, he’s in cell—room 170.”

Upon stepping into the completely silent cafeteria, Alph had the urge to fiddle with their lanyard incessantly. They failed to fight it, walking across the open hallway side the slowest they’ve ever walked.

Alph had two hours. Most of the people behind the doors had weeks.

How did Alph dodge this?

Was it by pulling a fire alarm? For standing in January cold for an hour with all their classmates as firemen cleared the whole building? For almost getting suspended for pulling it?

Alph groaned to themself halfheartedly. In all the time Alph had seen Urban—no, Harlow as a friend, he hadn’t ever used fire until Alph fucked up and prodded when they didn’t have to. This is Alph’s fault. Harlow was in here right now because Alph pushed him to think that.

They hated that they knew Harlow would turn himself in. He didn’t seem to know how to put out the fire he’d generated. Probably ran all the way here asking them to bind him.

Fucking idiot, Alph yelled at themself while watching a kid try to push open his sliding door with thick metal joining his arms together. Alph pulled it open for him. Couldn’t have been much older than eight.

With a deep breath, Alph finally made it to room 170. Hesitated to knock.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Alph croaked.

Silence. Alph opened the door, still unsure what to say.

“Hhh-eyh,” was the best Harlow offered for them. “Fli-ip th’ lan.”

They listened to him before stepping inside the room boundary and closing the door behind them. It was mostly bare. Harlow had a cheap sewing kit out with a few scattered paperclips and a threaded needle poking out from his mouth. One knee was committed to holding a pair of pants that were way too small for him up near the needle.

Alph swallowed. “That was a dick move. That I did.”

Harlow hummed.

“And I’m sorry.”

He stabbed the needle through the pair of jeans and pulled out the point from the other side, still with his mouth. A bent paperclip was half-tied to the area where a button had clearly been. A button that was lying discarded on the floor.

“Fuh wh-at?” Harlow eventually said.

“I investigated you,” Alph breathed out, “for starters. I probably shouldn’t have done that. There’s a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have done. One of those was show up here uninvited, I think. They kind of just assumed you’d be comfortable seeing me at the door.”

Harlow’s gaze landed on Alph awkwardly standing near the door. “Sit.”

Alph took care not to sit on top of anything important on the bed beside him. “I think what I’m, uh, I think... no. I was being an inconsiderate asshole. A very, very very⸺”

“I geh ih.” Harlow shrugs. “Yeuh neeh⸺ wuh-n se-ck.”

The sewing needle falls out of his mouth, hitting the jeans on the way down to settle between the hand binders around Harlow’s hands.

He frowns. “You weren’t ever taught otherwise. That, yeah, maybe there’s some other ethics or, something. I just, I’m bad with confrontation. And you needed an answer, so I guess I just... blew up.”

“I should’ve known better to just leave it be. The pyrokinesis... I had no idea.”

“Nobody ever told you what happens in here. I’m not even sure your dad knows. Shit, sorry. He probably doesn’t know either. He just knows what his job description is, and that we get trained on control in here.” Harlow seemed to consider something else, but chose not to say it. “You believe you’re helping people, or, going to in your case, so you don’t... consider more than that.”

Alph leans back, letting their head hit the wall. “Yeah.”

“I guess I was a little afraid of telling you that everything you looked up to was just... a lie.”

“I’m such⸺”

“An ass. You don’t have to keep saying so.”

Alph bit their lip, bringing their hands back to the lanyard to mess with it again. Let their head fall onto the stiff mattress.

“For the record,” they sighed out, “on the way in here, there was this kid. Couldn’t have been older than eight.”

“Lukas?”

“I don’t know. Blonde. Small. Scared. The point is, he couldn’t even open his door. Who knows how long he’d been trying to open it? How many people just walked by without helping?”

“That’s my fault. I skipped lunch,” Harlow lamented.

“The point is,” Alph said again, louder, “I don’t want ‘sending people to rehab is a good idea’ to be a lie. When I was looking for you in rehab records at the station this morning, I thought it over. I want to change something. Change this. I don’t think you’re a monster, or a mistake, and I don’t want other kids to grow up thinking that they are. I don’t want, shit, I don’t want anyone to get stuck for half an hour trying to open a stupid sliding door. I want people to get trained instead of trapped.”

Harlow clears his throat. “If you’re willing to try, then I’ll support you all the way.”

“As long as you tell me, straight up, when I’m being a dumbass.”

He laughs. “Alright.”

Alph took a minute to let everything sink in. “Hey, Harlow⸺”

“Don’t,” Harlow inhaled sharply. “Don’t call me Harlow. I... We can stay as Urban and Raiden. Until I can associate it with something that’s not this. This, renamed detention center.”

“Okay.”

Another minute.

“I should show you something.”

“Show me what?”

Alph took the lanyard visitor card they’d printed for them, covering up their name and showing the rest of the side Har—Urban told them to hide. Pointed at the text.

“I’m also a pyrokinetic.”

Urban stared at the lanyard. Then he smiled.

“They’re gonna send me out for leave, tomorrow,” Urban said. “My hands will still be bound, but if you can get through my mother we can probably, I don’t know. Watch a movie, at least. Maybe you can show off.”

“What’s your address?” Alph laughed.

next chapter | masterlist

/ / / / / | --- missing a content warning? let me know

when i set out to rewrite this chapter (that i felt was previously lackluster of its original intent), i wasn't hoping to make it so significantly longer. all three sections have additions, and changes, all intended to draw out the awkwardness and the hurt i originally imagined while writing it the first time.

i hope it was much, much clearer for you as well when Harlow's voice rose and fell.

the old chapter can be found here and also on the old chapter archive

all feedback on my writing is appreciated

taglist: @lychhiker-writes, @madeoforgansandtissues, @fins0up

[coffeeghoulie]

If you're comfortable doing so, maybe something that delves into Phantom/Aeons time in the pit and how his bad experiences there impact him now that he's topside

hey? hey anon? how did you know I've been wanting to talk about Aeon's parents for six months?

Contains child abuse and discussion of child abandonment, eye injury, and nightmares. Aeon uses they/them for themself, but their parents don't know that and use he/him for them.

(this does expand on lore I wrote for Eternal Heatstroke, but you don't need to read that to read this)

divider by @wrathofrats

"The kit's not getting any bigger, Oasis."

Aeon's left ear twitches at the sound of Caldera's voice, rough and crackling like her fire. They come to awareness, but don't dare open their eyes. They don't want their guardians to know they're awake yet, the sinking feeling in their gut telling them that they are not supposed to be witnessing this conversation. The ground is rough underneath their side, and the campfire crackles in flashes of orange even through their eyelids. The three of them have been settled here for a little over a week, about time to pack up and move through the older ghouls' territory, finding somewhere else to bed down.

"How many times have I told you that quint kits are called pups, Cal," Oasis sighs. There's the sound of a hand running over a face. Both of them have been doing that a lot more recently, and Aeon can't tell who it is without opening their eyes. The air is thick with sulfur and smoke, and it stings at their nose.

"Frankly, I don't fucking care what they're called," she says. "We've been raising him for Lucifer knows how long because we thought he'd be strong enough to help us defend our territory. And he's at the point he should have grown. He's still so small."

There's disdain in her voice, one of her paws tapping at the ground in irritation. Aeon's brow furrows. They're not small. They might be skinny, but they're a full head taller than Caldera is, just above eye level with Oasis. They do know that Cal's small for a fire ghoulette, has encountered other fire ghouls who've tried to claim what their guardians have staked as their own.

"Cal, you've gotta have patience-" Oasis tries to reason, but he's never been able to stop her. When Caldera sets her mind to something, Aeon knows she stops at nothing to get her way.

"How long have we been going hungry to keep him around?" she growls, and Aeon can almost hear the sparks from her tongue. "Years and years of our lives, I'm so fucking tired of waiting. The kit can hardly even use his magick and he's practically an adult."

"What do we even know about quintessence ghouls, Cal?" Oasis keeps trying to reason. "We can't teach him magick we don't even understand."

"I don't fucking care," Caldera snarls at her mate. "I'm done. Keeping him was your idea in the first place. You want to keep the kit around? That'll be on you then. But then I'm out."

There's a commotion, someone getting to their feet rapidly. "That's just fucking like you, Cal. You'd really give up on how long we've been mated over our son?"

Caldera laughs, loud enough that Aeon thinks they have a solid excuse to wake up. They keep feigning sleep though. "Our son? Oasis, are you insane? You were the one who thought a quintessence ghoul be a good investment for the pack."

Aeon's heart falls through their stomach, trying desperately to process what they're hearing. Investment. Oasis had always told them that he'd found them, small and abandoned, so young that their eyes hadn't even opened yet. That the two of them wanted a kit to take care of. They feel like the rug's been yanked out from under them.

They don't have much time to process it though, because Oasis sighs, tossing something back and forth between his hands. Aeon doesn't need to open their eyes to know it's a pebble, something that had caught his eye at some point. "Fine, Cal. But you tell him."

Aeon tenses as rapid footsteps approach their sleeping form, trying hard to not curl up into a ball preemptively. A hot hand grabs their shoulder, the threatening bite of sharp claws even through their threadbare shirt.

"Wake up," Caldera says, low and dangerous as she shakes their shoulder. Even though they had some warning, they still yelp, tail tucked between their legs. Their eyes go wide at the fury in Caldera's expression, her growl as she hauls them to their feet.

"Cal-" Aeon stammers, trying not to struggle against her grip. Knows it's easier to let her put them where she wants than to fight it.

"None of that, runt," she snaps, and both of their violet eyes go wide. She's never- They've never- "You're grown, now. It's time for you to find your own place."

"Right now?" Aeon says, tipping their head back and baring their throat, trying to appease her. All the while, Oasis stands by the fire, watching distantly. "Oasis, please tell her I can't."

"He's not going to help you, runt. We're both ready for you to go," Cal says. There's a fire in her yellow eyes, red and orange flickering in her irises.

They stammer, glancing back and forth between their guardians. "That's not true, I heard you talking-" Aeon freezes and cuts themself off as Caldera's expression morphs, grip curling tighter into the collar of Aeon's shirt, claws punching through the threadbare fabric. They can feel the keratin against their skin, and they swallow hard.

"Oh? So you were eavesdropping?"

"No- I couldn't help it!"

She growls, pulling hard and shoving them towards the campfire. They stumble, paw catching on the brimstone, and they fall hard, twisting onto their back to look up at her. "I'm not going to say it again," she snarls, looming above them. The firelight makes her features sharper, fangs shining. "Get the fuck out."

They slowly push themself up to standing. Aeon finds the courage in their gut to growl back at her, ears pinned back against their head, tail lashing behind them as they bare their fangs and get in her face. "I'm not fucking going anywhere, this is my pack too!"

Aeon knows it's a mistake the moment the words leave their mouth.

Caldera screams in frustration and rage. The last thing Aeon sees out of their left eye is her claws glinting dark in the firelight.

There's a shriek. Aeon wonders why their throat hurts until they realize it's them shrieking. The world spins, blinding hot pain radiating from their face and scalp, and they can feel their heartbeat in the marrow of their left horn. They can't see.

They can't see.

There's something hot and sticky running down their face, and they cup their hand over their eye, cringing at the wetness.

Caldera doesn't even flinch as Aeon's blood drips in rivulets from her claws. "You fucking heard me, you ungrateful brat. We've fed and taken care of you your entire life. You can pay us back by fucking leaving."

She lunges, and Aeon's feet act on instinct, scrambling away from her. They clutch their face, hearing the blood spatter, their shirt sticking to their chest, heavy and wet. Aeon's head spins, and Caldera's behind them, chasing, and Aeon's seen her hunt.

There's no chance of outrunning her, even as their legs scramble underneath them. They run, lungs aching and head spinning, and there's two pounding sets of footfalls behind them.

Aeon sobs, chest heaving with exertion. Their ankle twists in the brimstone, and they stumble into the ground. Blood and tears stream down their cheeks in equal measure. It's over. They're de-

There's a hand on their shoulder.

Aeon jolts awake with a yelp, scrambling backwards into the corner of the couch out from under a big piece of white fabric that was covering them. It takes a moment to recognize their surroundings, fluorescent lights, a big desk in the opposite corner, an empty office chair, slightly rotating like someone stood up in a hurry. A large shape backlit looms over them, making a strange, familiar sound.

Aeon snarls before the sound registers, their entire body slumping as Aether chuffs at them. "Hey, you're alright, pup, you're safe," he breathes, his big hand hovering over their shoulder, his silver bracelet glinting in the light. "You were dreaming."

They nod, reaching up to touch at the scars running through though their left eye and biting back a sob. Aether nods back, cautiously sitting next to the younger quintessence ghoul and pulling them close, chuffing all the while.

"My shift just ended," Aether whispers, shifting them until Aeon's practically in his lap. "Do you want to go back to the den?"

Aeon nods quietly. Aether gently wipes away a tear from the silvery track across their cheek with a big thumb. They've been shadowing him to learn about infirmary work, a few months away from actually working on their own. "You want a hug, pup?"

"Please," they whisper, shoving Aether's white coat off of their legs. They'd been using it as a blanket while they napped on the couch in his office. The bigger ghoul draws them in, chuffing and nosing at their hair.

Aeon settles, eventually, and they stand hand in hand. "Can we go home?" Aeon asks, and Aether smiles, flashing a gold capped fang at them.

"Of course, pup, let's go home to our pack."

[ssanatoriumn]

Hello I'm a Young writer please proceed with caution as my Works contain heavy material such as detailed abuse or other gross stuff.

Tw: Description of Gore, ripped apart body parts.

Please proceed with Caution

Second tw: Mention of Gore and ripoed apart body parts.

3rd Tw: descriptive gore

I stood there , looking down at my Brother his eyes bloodshot and wide open. ".. Rosario?" I ask slowly regaining my senses as i did i could taste a strange taste..the taste of blood. I brought the hand to my mouth to wipe the left blood away colouring my white sleeve red. I needed some time to understand but as i fully grasped the situation, as i full grasped what I've done he already had stand up and dug his sharp teeth into my flesh ripping it apart. I couldn't scream, I wouldn't even dare to after all i appear to have hurt him first but the pain the pain was almost unbearable. It was nothing like the things i had to ever endure, this was deeper this was my dear Brother. My heart began to raise as i tried to hold back my scream, after all i deserved it and he was just trying to protect himself.

After several minutes of him not letting go of me a grapped into his hair trying to desperately pull him away but nothing seemed to help. Nothing not my begging not my apologizing, I must've done more than to just attack him.