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snivel1 · 1 month

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Kinito in the computer of a person in an abusive family.

Horror&blood warning under the cut!

Transcript of the intentionally hard to read text:

"Friend! I made sure to give them a good talking to! They won't bother you ever again!"

#kinito would 100% try to think of some way to help/protect/save an abused kid/teen/adult #he'll think of something for sure🙏 after all friends protect each other right?#kinitopet #kinito #kinito fanart #kinito the axolotl #kinito my beloved #he'll probably be torn between trapping them in his world where it's safe #and somehow manifesting into the real world to. deal. with the abusers #blood #horror #scopophobia #snively doodles #he's very stressed because he thinks he can't do anything to help in any meaningful way at first;;#I'll try workin on the requests now!! hoping my brain will let me <33 #abuse mention #child abuse mention #(implied) (you can interpret the person here however you want be it a child or teen or an adult)#peep the kinito crew shaped keys :)) they're very cute i think

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schnuffel-danny · 2 months

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trying to do an infographic of my headcanons of Jack/Vlad pre-college 😅

it was Them VS The World for years and then Vlad had to go on and die in a freak accident and ruin everything smh 😒

oops they really are just OCs at this point aren't they....

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanart #jack fenton #vlad masters #jack/vlad #parental death mention #implied child abuse #they've been each other's safety nets for so long #I am not normal about making my blorbos traumatized

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thebad-lydrawn-sanses · 2 months

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Okay wait so dream had a vision of the future kinda like what shattered dream had and tried to change the future is that what happened?

Dream: my eyelights Nightmare: the villagers are giving us a lot of stuff. it's nice. Dream: my eyelights. Nightmare: i like your new eyelights. Dream: please keep yours. Nightmare: …I'll try?

Villager: Dream, I need to talk to you. Dream: oh! is this about your dislike of my brother or your house burning down? i heard about it. that must've really sucked :) busy lately? Villager: uh- yeah. My sister was terribly injured in the fire, so we need apples for her recovery.

Villager: my mommy told me to give you this Dream: thank you, Charlie. tell your mom i said hi. Villager: it's a pie. Dream: thank you. Villager: she says your brother is a bad person and should be executed. i think i agree, 'cuz he's really scary. Dream: he's really nice. you should be nice to him. Villager: oh. okay! he's still really scary though.

Prophecy Nightmare: HEY. Dream: AAAAAA-

Villagers: "Are you okay?" "Dream, can I get an apple?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" "Can I have an apple?" "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?"

Nightmare: are you gonna sleep tonight? Dream: no Nightmare: did i- do something wrong-? Dream: no Nightmare: are you okay? Dream: no Dream: yes

Prophecy Nightmare: LYING TO YOUR BRO? COLD. Dream: god damn it

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red-rover-au · 1 year

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I love their terrible little family so much dsnsksj

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cavinginhisfvce · 1 year

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'IT'LL ALL WORK OUT'

Disclaimer: I'm honestly not a fan of Susan, but I thought this fic idea was cute!

Paring: Harringrove.

When Neil married Susan, he was against Susan adopting Billy, claiming the boy's real mother couldn't bother to be tasked with raising him, so no one should ever burden themselves with such a thing.

Susan, surprisingly, was firm in wanting to pick up the slack Billy's mother left in her wake, eventually Neil relented, and the adoption process was underway.

It's been four years, and a move to Hawkins, Indiana since Billy legally became Susan's child, something Max was displeased with initially, quickly became a comfort to her when she discovered what Neil did to his son. It had shaken her to her core, and when she relayed the information to her mother, the woman simply pulled her into a hug and murmured, "I know, baby. It'll all work out."

Max didn't know what that meant, or if she should trust her mom. But, she silently nodded, she had no real options here. She had to wait for the future.

The future as it turns out, was just three months later; Neil had laid into Billy with more fervor than usual, and when Susan made to step in, her husband struck her.

It hadn't detoured the red-haired woman, she continued her self-appointed task of checking on Billy, who was staring up at her with a look she's never seen on his face, a look no seventeen should ever wear.

She gave him a small, comforting smile, just as Neil got a fist full of otherwise pristine hair; his freehand raising to strike once more.

The action worked quickly in pulling Billy from his Susan induced trance with a start, his body moving faster than his brain as he lunged at his father, swiftly knocking the man to the ground.

For years, Neil's abuse had only ever been turned towards his son, and in truth he was grateful; because Billy doesn't know what he would do if it was ever Max on the receiving end. She was a child, she was his shitty little sister. Max, who brought him the stupidest (best) hoodies he owns, the fabric softer than any he had previously. Max, who despite hating Billy in the beginning, now comes to his room when she has a nightmare or generally needs comforting from someone other than her mother. She's the only person to hug him since the day his mom took off.

His sister who despite everything, tries so hard to show Billy someone loves him. She loves him.

Susan had tried to comfort him, but Billy always brushed her off. She never seemed to take it personally for some reason. Maybe because she knew he was afraid of what would happen if Neil even suspected Billy felt safe in their home.

The knowledge that Neil could hurt Susan was always present in Billy's mind, but he often wrote off his concern with a scoff. She knew what she married, she knew what he was like. It was her problem, not his.

However, seeing Neil actually hit Susan had set something off in Billy, because while she may have never defended or stood up for him as she had today; she still made sure he was properly tended to after encounters with his father.

If Neil sent him to bed sans dinner, locking him in his bedroom for however long, she would have Max sneak him a sandwich, Max was always more than happy to take said food.

The times when Neil kicked Billy out intent on making the boy sleep in his car, Susan always snuck a bag of snacks, blankets, and whatever else, into the bushes by their house for him to grab. Despite always going to Steve's and sleeping in the boy's guestroom on those nights, it still showed she was trying.

If Billy was bed ridden after his father caved his chest in, a few too many times, she would come into his room, soothe his pain with hushed words and gentle touches. Billy was usually too tired and in too much pain to reject her warm hands and kind fingers working through his curls after she'd patched him up.

Seeing Susan cradle her cheek, seeing Max sob at the display, finally gave Billy the nerve to stand up to Neil.

He doesn't really remember much after straddling his father, his fists flying rapidly, their intended destination Neil's face, but he does remember Susan scrambling to call 911. Remembers her soft words of assurance that Neil was down.

He remembers Max's look of relief as their eyes met.

He still feels the phantom hold as Susan tugs him from his place over his dad's limp frame. Can vaguely recall the frightening seconds he thought he killed his father before the man was gasping awake, his eyes widened with fear as they landed on Billy. He was actually afraid of Billy.

Everything beyond that was a blur, Billy doesn't really know what was said, or done. He just knows Neil was in police custody, something that would've left Billy parentless, if not for Susan having adopted him all those years ago.

Especially since his own mother had taken off when he was barely five, and relinquished her rights as a parent in the same breath she'd divorced his father.

He always wondered why he wasn't enough. For his mother or Neil.

When Hopper came by to ask if they wanted to press charges, both Billy and Susan agreed easily. It was the most gratifying decision Billy has ever made in regards to his father and the abuse he's endured at his hands for years.

Billy and Steve started officially seeing each other a few weeks after Neil's trial ended. Hopper saw to it that his father was hit with the max sentence for child abuse, and domestic violence. Both Max and Billy would be well into adulthood when Neil gets released, something that made the decision to be with Steve all that sweeter.

He hadn't wanted to come out to Susan, the lingering fear that she would object to her newly seventeen year old son being with a guy was too prevalent.

Though, technically, he didn't come out to her, she came to him one morning with her hand on her hip and a warm smile on her lips demanding he "bring his 'Pretty Boy' to dinner."

Billy wanted to be upset that she'd found out, but he was far too humiliated that it was his own fault she'd figured it out. Apparently calling Steve 'Pretty Boy' like it was going out of style, was a dead giveaway for the woman.

Much to Billy and Max's (dis)pleasure, Susan and Steve got along easily.

On Billy's eighteenth birthday, Max had barged into his bedroom, shrieking in horror when she was met with an eyeful of her brother and Steve in a slight state of undress, Billy had thrown a pillow in her direction, his voice rough with embarrassment as he shouted,

"Mom, tell Maxine to fucking knock!"

Both siblings froze at that, Max had a wide smile on her face, while Billy looked slightly mortified, his words echoing in his ears.

The look morphed into one of pain when Susan slipped into his room, her smile rivaling Max's with how big it was, "That's the first time you've ever called me mom…"

Billy swallowed thickly and nodded his head, though he refused to make eye contact with the woman, even when she was throwing her arms around his bare shoulders in an iron grip hug, "okay, okay, I get it! Can we maybe talk about this shit later, you know, when I'm not trying to get laid on my birthday?"

Billy wasn't actually going to have sex with Steve with both Max and Susan home, but their presence in the house definitely wasn't going to prevent Steve from watching Billy fall apart beneath him, especially not if the brunet had any say in the matter.

This had Susan reaching out to lightly slap his shoulder, a faux look of exasperation on her features,"maybe next time you or Pretty Boy over there will remember to lock the door, hm?"

With one last smile at Billy, accompanied by a wink, she then ushered Max out the room, Steve almost immediately leaping up to lock the door behind them; his face beet red when their eyes finally met.

"I'm fuckin' moving out." His tone was embarrassed, but there was no heat behind, no real threat to his words.

He wouldn't leave his sister and his mother for any reason short of them wanting him gone.

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xx-blueboy-xx · 7 months

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I wish Sam could have punched John in the face. Beat him bloody, just truly exploded in early seasons. Shown him exactly what he made him to be in the most tragic way possible.

I would have killed for a scene that went like, Sam and John arguing, John is getting more and more loud, until he is screaming - spit flying, you know: the whole nine yards. Insantly, Sam matches this.

Dean would try and step between them, like he always does. But -Sam pushes him away, with a ferocity he has only seen from his mostly passive brother on hunts.

"Stay out of this Dean!"

Dean would try and say something but a steely look from John shuts him up. He steps back realizing that it's over. This is it. His family is done for.

Can you imagine the shock on John's face, when Sam swings at him. Landing a perfect blow to his nose, breaking it without even trying. Using all of those skills he taught him? Forced him to perfect.

Can you imagine the shock from Dean. Who steps forward a bit, he goes to step between them, terrified of what John will do. He knows what he did when they were defensless, never even dared to talk back. The bruises and the blood.

But then Sam is grabbing John by the collar and he lands another punch. And another. And another, he has him on the ground his knuckles bleeding as he tears them apart, each hit landing harder than the last. Between the blows he is spitting out like poison "I hate you!"

And Dean pulls him off. Dean begs him to stop. He doesnt hit Dean, simply trembles in his arms as he is held back - pushed away.

John just stares.

And stares. He doesn't say a word. Before he wipes the blood from his mouth, and spits some onto the ground eye already swelling up. Lip split.

He stands.

And still says nothing, because Dean is already doing it. Already taking the holy word from his father's mouth. Already starting to lecture Sam, maybe shove his brother a bit.

John doesn't have to say anything.

And in the moment, Sam wishes he killed him.

#supernatural #this ended up being kinda drabble like #but i just- had to share this #i think about it so so often #everybody ignores how canonically angery and violent sam CAN be #when pushed too far or he needs to be #because he isnt exploding as often as Dean instesd shoving it down and down and down...#sam winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #john winchester's A+ parenting #cw: mentioned/implied child abuse #cw: minor violence

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blinkpen · 10 months

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miscelaney-oo

#mog art #doodles #rebus #zoetrope #charlioe k #paisley #demersa #necrin #zebra #death mention #blood cw #child abuse implied #cannibalism implied #the lore drops when i have the resources to dedicate to presentation

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terxez · 1 month

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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐌𝐏

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰, 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩.

SAD

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖭𝖺𝗆𝖾: 𝓝𝓪𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓪

2007

TW: suicidal thoughts, mention of suicide.

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☆ NATALIA'S POV

The door to my room was closed as I sat on the floor by my bed. Only my father was at home, I lost my mother when I was only 5 years old. Everyone thinks she died from cancer, but I know the truth. She committed suicide. It's not like someone told me...

I saw it.

I still see her in front of my eyes.

The way she's sitting on the bed crying. The way she's apologizing.

I didn't understand what was happening at first. I was 5. Mom disappeared out of nowhere and I was told she was sick and her heart couldn't handle it. But I realized it later.

all the apologies, the tears, the letters. It was all because she couldn't make it.

My father started beating my mother after I was born. He was yelling at her, scolding her, hurting her. later it got to me as well, when I brought home a bad grade from school, he started yelling at me.I could never have a boyfriend, I could only have friends, that he allowed me. I couldn't go out without him knowing who I was going with, where I was going, and where I would be. Ever since my mom died, it's gotten worse. My father started drinking and is always drunk.

“Natalia!! Bring me one beer” My father shouted at me from the living room. Even if I didn't want to, I had to. I said no once and it didn't go well. I got up from the cold, wooden floor and quietly went to unlock my door. I quickly reached the kitchen and headed for the fridge. As soon as I opened it, the cold that the refrigerator hides poured out on me. I reached for the nearest can and strode towards the couch where my father was currently sitting. I got goosebumps when I saw the face of a person who was half me. My shaky hands put the can on the table. Then I turned around so my back was facing his face ready to go back to my room.

“This is not the beer I wanted!” My father yelled at me. I automatically turned to face him. Rage burned in my body before I clenched my hands into fists . “Maybe you can get the fucking beer by yourself!” I let my emotions win before I could think twince. Only now I realized what I had caused. My mother wouldn't be proud of this.

The man who ruined my life got off the couch. His eyes were red. “Who do you think you're talking to, young lady!” My eyes were wide open, I didn't even have time to answer, and there were streams of water coming out of my eyes. I knew what was going to happen. “I'm sorry” I whispered quietly, wondering if he'd heard me. He started to raise his right hand to hit me, but I quickly turned around and ran into my room. The floor below me crackled as I slammed my door shut. I heard my father running after me, he started banging on my door and yelling my name, but I ignored it. I sat down on the bed again and began to cry, my eyes were tired. I was too but for a different reason.

I wanted to end it.

Now and here.

The noise my father was making didn't stop, he was even louder. “Open the fucking door slut! I swear I will beat you!!” His words hurt. The pain he caused me couldn't be healed. I hate him.

It's all my fault. It was always my fault. Maybe I was the reason my mother left me. What if there's something wrong with me? I look for mistakes in others, but never in myself. I'll never be happy again, it's not even possible. I can't talk about my family because there's nothing nice about it. I don't even have any family.

I'm nothing.

My life is meaningless.

I lifted my weak legs and looked out the window. My vision was blurry, my pulse quickened and my breathing irregular. I've never felt worse.

it was dark outside. Birds sang softly, children outside playing and enjoying their life, while I was locked in my room knowing that I had no one. The mess from the living room stopped. The only thing that could be heard was my father's television and me sobbing. I opened my dusty window and, slowly jumped out. I started running as fast as I could, wanting to be away from the place. Sticks crunched beneath me, leaves rustled and the wind blew violently. I decided to go to an old building where I used to spend a lot of time.

I stopped in front of an abandoned tall building. It didn't even have doors -The windows were broken and walls ruined. The stairs were dirty but stable. And with my final decision, I went up the stairs until I was at the top of the building. The view of the city was amazing, but my last.

I stepped on the edge of the building and just stared down. Up here the breeze was soft and calm, the air cold and fresh. The light fought with the darkness. It was quiet up here. You could hear some footsteps, but they weren't mine.

“Take a step back” someone behind me said, breaking the silence. I didn't turn around. Whoever it is, I don't want them to see my face before I jump. “No, I don't want to” I replied coldly, still looking down.

“Please don't jump” I sighed and put my hands in my pockets, it was getting cold. “Why are you trying to save me? You don't know me.. uhm-” My eyes started to water again, but I didn't want to look weak, I held them back and didn't let one fall.

“Bill, I'm Bill... and I don't want to let you take your own life, you still have time to change your decision” I laughed and rolled my eyes. “I'm serious” He assured me, and I just nodded “My life is terrible, it's not worth living and if you knew me you'd understand” You could tell he had no words. I don't want him to see me like this, but I warned him. No one will take my decision away, even if he tried real hard.

“What are you doing here anyway? Nobody comes here” I asked him, I've never met anyone here. Who would go to a abandoned place alone just like me? “I wanted to clear my mind.. and find the right words for my songs” I stayed silent. I guess he makes music or something - at least someone has some sense of life, if not me. “um, can you please leave now? I'm sure your family is waiting for you” I said with tears in my eyes. Just thinking about my family drives me crazy.

“The same goes for you”

“But I don't have a family”

Silence again. My heart was beating faster and my hands were shaking again. I want to end this as soon as possible.

“Last words, that you want to share with me?” I asked him annoyed. I know it's not his fault and he just wants to help me, but my heart is arguing with my brain whether to end it now or later.

“Please don't-” His voice cracked, his soft sobs could be heard. “I'm sorry.. Bill” I heard his screams behind my back. I was scared, but I knew I had to do it. With the last words, I stepped forward with my foot, taking one last look at the mesmerizing view that will eat me in a moment. I closed my tired eyelids and fell off the edge of the building.

Everything went silent.

I can be with my mommy now.

I'm sure that there are mistakes. I wrote it late at night when I was tired ^^ my first storyy, I hope you like it 🫶🏻.

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #sad stories #tw depressing stuff #tw sui attempt #tw sui implied #2000s #2000s fashion #tw abuse #child abuse #mommy issues #daddy issues #family issues #tw kys mention

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chloroformcurry · 2 months

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A rather heavy experimental piece. Could count as oc content and as something applicable to a real life issue igs. I hope I took all the right precautions on the tags 🙏

#tw csa #tw csem #tw csa implied #tw childhood trauma #tw child abuse #cw csa #cw csa mention #I hope I put enough tags #carboncopycomic

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aj-lenoire · 2 months

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i do not enjoy harry potter anymore and even when i did, snape was not a character i ever liked, but for some reason my ‘for you’ page is just full of dedicated snape stan accounts and i hate it

#anti jk rowling #anti severus snape #anti harry potter #like okay i remain a strong proponent of ‘you are allowed to like whatever fiction you like’#but it’s important to consider whether the author—when presenting certain subjects—critically evaluates their own opinion on those subjects #like how stephanie meyer in twilight thinks it’s funny to have all the vampires make dog jokes at jacob because he’s a werewolf #but he’s native so it comes off as REALLY racist #(and also in the case of jkr specifically she’s using her money from hp to fund terf shit LET HP DIE)#and the dozen-ish snape takes i’ve seen seem to demonstrate these accounts are either not interested in or cannot critically evaluate snape #a character written by a woman to be a redeemable asshole who take out a petty schoolyard resentment against a kid’s dad ON THE KID #the orphaned abused kid i might add—when the redeemable man in question is implied to have come from an abusive home himself #i just saw one like ‘oh if it’s okay to call him ‘snivellus’ then it must be okay to call luna ‘loony’ right?#sorry when was luna joining a hate group against muggles and muggle-borns #i don’t deny james and co bullied snape quite viciously but he gave back just as much and also never grew out of that pettiness #not to mention he only turned from voldemort because he was specifically going to kill lily #all other muggleborns dying was apparently just fine by him #i still don’t get the love of this character not because it’s a bad thing to like villainous characters #but it’s ALWAYS the justification of his actions—as if he was in the right to bully harry (an orphaned abused child) because of harry’s dad #there’s no criticism consideration of the author’s biases in there #should you not be a bit concerned that she thinks calling your best friend a slur ‘ONE TIME’ is something that should be just forgotten #aj abstractions

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queermentaldisaster · 3 months

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“There's a Revolution Coming”, part three of “The Devil Made Me Do It; But I Also Kinda Wanted To”.

First thing's first. If you read this on AO3, please, please, please pay attention to the tags. I will add sufficient warnings for each chapter here as well, but this is very much a Dead Dove fic. What you see is what you get. So please, proceed with caution when you see the tws/tags.

Tags: @forestshadow-wolf @axelaxolotl09 @im-here-and-im-confused @bringinsexybackk69 @rainerestored @8-rae-rae-8 (if you want to be added or removed from the taglist please inform me)

(Possible) tw: Children in captivity, mental breakdown, mentions of torture and mind control, discrimination towards demons, and implied child abuse. Proceed with caution.

Chapter 1 under the cut.

The helo landed, and Mirror grabbed Soap's bound wrists and began dragging him towards the military base. Soap's eyes trailed upwards, and his eyes narrowed. With the amount of security around this place, it reminded him of a castle. He looked back down, taking a deep breath. ‘Och, poor Si…he's probably terrified right now and masking it with anger…’ he thought. His thoughts were on Ghost, even as Mirror dragged him through the base. Then, he looked up, and saw just how many demons were here. More than a thousand. The rest must've come from all over the world, then. ‘How many demons did Meister break?’ Soap thought, as his mind drifted back to a conversation Ghost and him had while he was still recovering.

“You know, Meister tortured us to make us weak to mind control.” Ghost murmured. Soap's head snapped up from his sketchbook. “Mind control?” He asked. Ghost nodded. “Affirmative.” He brought his hand up to his neck. “He’d collar us, then attack us. He saw us as nothing more than tools.” Ghost's wings tightened around himself. Soap's eyes softened and he touched Ghost's hand. “Yer so much more than a tool to me, Simon. Yer as alive as the rest of us.” he murmured. Ghost looked back at Soap and his eyes spoke volumes. “Thanks, Johnny.”

A tear rolled down Soap's cheek. God, he hoped Ghost was looking for him. He was scared.

Mirror dragged him into a room, shoving him in and locking the door behind him. Soap fell to the floor, and knelt there, his hands clenched into fists. He let the tears begin rolling down his cheeks, as he tried not to sob. He was in the lion's den and all alone. Too weak to fight against demons and vampires and…whatever Shepard was. God, he'd never wished for anything, not even to be a monster…but now, he was cursing his human heritage. ‘Ah’m useless. Cannae even save maself, much less love Simon how he wants.’ He bit his tongue. ‘Ah’m pathetic. Fought tooth ‘n nail ta get where ah was, and now ah'm here. In an empty room, captured, unable to save maself.’ A sob escaped from the gag, and the dam broke. He curled up, sobbing.

•✧-----------------------------------✧•

He didn't know how long had passed, and he didn't care. He'd managed to get the gag out at some point, and he was now staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles. “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six-” He was interrupted by the door flying open. Graves was standing there, his eyes narrowed. “Do you ever shut up!?” He snapped. Soap sat up, placing his bound wrists on his knees. “Ya ken, Graves, ye have a really bad track record with kidnapping. Twice in two months. Ghost isnae goin’ tae be happy with this.”

Graves's eyes narrowed. “I do not care what that beast thinks. He's nothing more than an animal, a tool to use as we see fit. He doesn't have feelings, he can't.” Soap's eyes narrowed. “...” He lunged at Graves, only to be tackled by one of the other demon guards. Graves's eyes narrowed. “Take him to the little room.” The demon nodded and dragged Soap off as Soap screamed his head off at Graves, in pure rage.

The demon threw Soap in another room, this one with three beds, and paper strewn around the room. He hit the ground roughly, and he let out a groan. He felt hands grab his binds and he almost struck the person…until he looked ahead…and saw a child with pale tannish skin, her right eye being a purple color, her left eye being a pink color, blonde hair, and tiny red horns. “Evelyn! He could be a threat!” came a voice. He turned his head and saw a girl, no older than fourteen, shielding a smaller boy. The girl had light grayish pinkish-purple hair, her right eye being orange and her left eye being a dark grayish magenta color. She had a burn scar by her right eye, and she had horns of a dull gold color that curved like a ram's. Soap looked around, spotting two other kids. His heart sank.

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melloraconteur · 11 months

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[Listen to the silent scream of (It was never heard)] Zane Ro'Meave

What you should expect -> Child abuse [mentioned], Character death [mentioned].

Synopsis -> The little boy who was afraid of his shadow had to grow, says the storyteller, he grew into something he thought he was and didn't think he could change his ways. No one bothered to prove otherwise . . .

Word count -> 1.2K

When his brother Vylad is born, he is allowed into the delivery room with his older brother Garroth and he takes a look at the boy and immediately can tell in his mind that Vylad will only ever be his brother through his mother's line by the way she holds him.

(He can never recall a time she held him like that.)

He is 5 years old when he watches with envy filled eyes at the love his mother gives so easily to her youngest and never to him.

He is 10 years old when is first introduced to the cruelty of his father and the unfair treatment between him and his brothers given by his mother.

It goes something like this.

He's running, running and weaving between important party guests with the intent of catching his brother Garroth. He's running too fast with his skinny legs to move out of the way of the noble woman and he knocks straight into her skirt, nearly bowling her over and makes her drop a glass of wine that has to be expensive by the sound it makes as it shatters on the wooden flooring.

He steps away from the woman's dress and into the sight of everyone who had turned to see what the disturbance was. He sees Garroth turn and stop when he hears the shattering of glass, he sees the easy going grin of his father turn into a tight lipped one and one of his mother's hands covers her mouth in shock (and maybe in shame.)

His father motions him to come to him. He cannot help but follow his command on autopilot, hoping and wishing his father will overlook this (he likely won't, you know this). He feels the heavy hand of his father set itself on his shoulder, an inch too close to his neck to be comfortable. He cannot help but turn to his mother, begging with his eyes for her to help him, for her to extend the loving hand she gives his siblings and prove that she loves him as much as Garroth or Vylad.

But she does not look at him, does not even give him a look of pity or anything. No, she is holding Vlyad in one arm and plastering Garroth to her side with the other, rubbing his arm and trying to be a comforting mother. The soft and delicate look in her eyes is not for him, it is for the children who she treasures.

And despite the heavy hand of his father an inch too close to his neck to be comfortable, despite the heated gazes glaring down on the interactions of his family, he feels like he's been thrown in an ice bath headfirst.

(Fine, if she won't love him, he won't waste effort on it either)

-?-

He is 15 years old when he starts dealing with his father's work. He has learned what his brothers have not. That you must learn when he wants to hear you and when you should remain silent.

He is 15 when he meets many men who he knows he would need to flay his skin from bone to get their stench off his skin.

(He is but a boy when an eye patch covers his right eye along with the bangs he carefully grew out (see mother, I can be nurturing too, he wants to scream at her))

-?-

Truth: Zane's father, Lord Gante, has always told him that to give him anything other than success is failure. Anything other than success is weakness. The man burned that into his memory, into his bones and told him he'd do his best not to forget.

-?-

He is a little older now. He has gained the title of High Priest from the Faith of Lady Irene. He sets forward to form his fractions.

His father 'gifts' him a friend of sorts that he thought would help him. It is a girl of a nobleman whose name he can't be bothered with.

She introduces herself with her first name and doesn't bother to give him her last. She doesn't wear a dress, she wears a beginner mage's robes with a necklace of a silver crane around her neck.

It is a strange meeting nonetheless. One where he begrudgingly gives answers to her and gives out questions in a bossy harsh voice. He half expects her to yell at him, half expects her to break down and leave him alone in one of the parlor rooms.

Instead she does none of these things. She grins warmly at his blatant rudeness and offers to take him on a walk through the market, a place he doesn't go too often.

(There is a small warmth in his chest. He hopes this girl of a nobleman will not leave him as everyone else did. He hopes to keep her as his own, to call her his and not have to worry about if he was wrong yet again.)

(Zane is a little older than 15 and is a very tired boy. He wants somewhere to rest his tired body. That's all.)

-?-

Truth: Zane has always been too aware. To put simply, he's playing chess while others are busy playing checkers and whenever this is brought up, he will grin something cold with teeth ready to bite.

(A child never given a childhood and raised by a monster can only be one thing.)

Confession: Zane has learned to be this way from his father, Lord Gante. Lord Gante always played nice with Garroth and regarded Vylad with a cold politeness but Zane had always seen the monster in the depths of his father. He can only remember seeing the monster take the place of his father when dealing out Zane's discipline.

(He does not know how to undo this way of life. He doesn't think he can even if he tried.)

-?-

Things can change within a few months.

Garroth, his eldest brother only through blood and title and nothing else, runs away and deserts his role as heir of O'Khasis.

( See? He could not handle what came with his title the voice that sounds like his father whispers, reminding him the consequences of faltering under pressure)

Vylad, the youngest brother connected to him through his mother and nothing else, dies at the hands of an assassin.

His mother, Lady Zianna, has shut herself away from the world, allowing herself to wallow in grief after losing two out of three sons.

( I'm here mother, your second son is still alive. Shouldn't that mean something to you? He wonders (screams) within his own head, never letting the words slip past gritted teeth.)

Fight. Survive. The voice demands when he is given the news that he is appointed the heir of O'Khasis, prove that you are more than the cards destiny gave you, it demands.

-?-

He was a monster before he was a child.

A weapon made up of blood and bones that was ready to tear into the world at a simple command.

Weapon, his father grins.

Monster, his mother wails.

He has never been a child loved by a mother and father.

He never had anyone love him without conditions.

-?-

The little boy who was afraid of his shadow had to grow, Says the storyteller, he grew into something he thought he was and didn't think he could change his ways. No one bothered to prove otherwise . . .

#MelloStories #Zane Ro'Meave x Reader #Zane Ro'meave #Garroth Ro'meave #Vylad Ro'meave #Aphmau MCD #Zianna Ro'meave #Reader is female #Gante Ro'meave #Implied child abuse #mentioned character death

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a-j-s-the-only · 2 months

Text

I wonder if you knew I said no

did you just not hear me?

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skyward-floored · 1 month

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Also any and all of the Hyrule backstory ones 👀 (I may have a type lol)

- hero-of-the-wolf

Don’t have a lot of concrete stuff for those ones either, but here’s a bit at least. I have too much Hyrule angst in this au, I feel so bad for him 😅 I’ll get to fluff eventually... someday.

Link felt his stomach heave as he looked at it, taken so off-guard that he almost tripped when Carok shoved him forwards.

“Go on, fix him! Mob’s our best sharpshooter and he can’t do anything with his hand like that!”

Link swallowed and looked at the burns again. “I-I don’t know if I can—”

He didn’t get to finish before Carok struck him across the face, so hard he fell to the ground.

“I’ve seen what you can do kid,” he spat as he grabbed his collar, and Link tasted blood on his lip as he shook him, “don’t try and lie to me. Now fix his hand or I’ll get the boss in here.”

His shirt was released, and Link shakily regained his footing, then walked over to the couch, the injured man still groaning quietly in pain.

#answers from the floor #lovely hero of the wolf #wip #Incredibles au #tw injury #implied child abuse #I guess?#just in case #I think it could be worse but I’d hate for anyone to see stuff they don’t want to #but yea #remember in that first febuwhump where Hyrule mentioned healing someone’s hand?#this is it

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ask-thearchivists · 6 months

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Now I’m curious, what happened last time you helped Charmer?

The Cartographer: It was during the mission with the Titans. Charmer knew it would be a lot of work to get rid of them, so she wanted one of us to help her train and command the slayers she was going to use to kill them all. Because it was anticipated to be a mission that would ultimately require Cleaning, Coordinator was busy writing down all the information on the species, societies, and food webs as quickly as possible, while Curator was expanding the Archive in anticipation of a great sudden influx of mortals. So I was the only one not currently busy.

The Cartographer: So he brought me down and explained his plans, what had happened and what was planned to happen. She explained her idea to trick the babies and children into trusting the mortals she had enlisted, by taking the skins and skulls of little Titans that had already been killed and having the mortals wear them. He wanted me to try on one that he had made so he could see how convincing it looked.

The Cartographer: I'll never forget the smell inside the skull, the way the fur felt on my arms. I had to leave immediately. I came back to the Archive. I pulled that horrible thing off me. I'm probably not allowed to tell you how else I reacted. But who cares? I got sick onto the floor. I knew it was going to happen, which is why I left, because we're not allowed to show any perceived weakness to mortals. The Coordinator was angry and yelled at me for leaving without saying anything, I think. All I remember is the way my arms were still itching from the fur, like things were crawling all over me. The Curator grabbed my hands and the Coordinator stopped yelling. I had scratched my arms until I started to bleed.

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doreensladle · 7 days

Text

For those asking, here’s the full poem from my most recent edit:

Biology Class

“Just like his father.”

it’s a curse, spoken in hushed tones,

screamed like swords clashing,

it is grinding metal and cries of pain.

it is an omen spoken from hellfire,

his lineage will need to be baptized out of him.

“Just like his father.”

he is a boy.

he carries the judgment

of another man’s mistakes,

this burden was not his to begin with it,

but it now burns the lines from his palms.

his hands blister the longer he holds it,

eventually it is welded into his skin

like it was always a part of him.

they were the ones that put it in his hands

and they don’t even know it.

“Just like his father.”

he has his father’s eyes, and his arrogance,

but is it genetic or is he just a normal teenager

who thinks they know more than they do?

they haven’t given him a chance to grow.

he is not his father, he is just a boy

with all of youth’s natural confidence.

they forget what it’s like to live in a world

that expects you to be older than you are.

“Just like her mother.”

it is said with resignation,

or irritation hidden under barbed teasing.

she carries exhaustion on her shoulders

and wears it like an apron rather than a cape.

she is apathetic in all of the ways

of a woman with a duty she never wanted.

she had responsibilities forced onto her

before she could even spell injustice.

“Just like her mother.”

she has learned how to be sharp,

all of her girlish softness

has been beaten out of her.

she was raised in the lion’s den

yet, they are surprised when she roars.

her hair is matted with the blood

of generations to come,

and she bears her teeth when she sees it.

“Just like her mother.”

she is steely and strained,

she has her mother’s calloused hands,

and her quiet rage.

she must be diligent to survive.

she made a deal with heaven and hell

the first time she ever bled.

they couldn’t kill her if they tried,

and that’s the beauty of her.

“Just like their parents.”

it is an insult, even if it is not meant to be.

they are children raised in jail cells,

they carved the days into concrete walls

until their fingertips bled

and then they continued

until they had nothing left to give.

they made plans for escape that changed

in the delirium of a lifetime sentence.

“Just like their parents.”

they don't look at themselves in the mirror,

they know who they will see there.

there is iron in every tear they spill,

and sweat in every drop of their blood.

they have been forged in the center of the sun,

unyielding in its potential,

unforgiving in its power.

“Just like their parents.”

they are mistakes and they are regrets.

they have learned how to live

with the shadow of another life,

of somebody’s, what if?

they have learned about anger,

they have learned what love isn’t.

they think that they could do it better,

but isn’t that just the family curse?

#poetry #poetry edit #tw child abuse #tw implied abuse #tw blood mention #I told y’all it was long #but still sorry in advance #my greatest flaw is my inability to be concise

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