dear to me i know; rapt

[abysm]

Abysm hungers for the easy affection that his father always gives him. Rapt has never denied him. Never. So he looks and he finds because his father is never heard to find.

Of course this means that the near-grown colt has to step out of everyone’s dreams. Mostly his own though. So he materializes on this plane of existence within the common lands that his father haunts like a sad ghost. 

He knows why his father is sad - her, always because of her. She moved on to more hearts and more sons and daughters. Does Rapt feel left in the dust as much as Abysm does? He moves close enough for their shoulders to run and his nose to touch Rapt’s jawline in a brief nibble of affection and deference.

“Do you hate her?” 

naturally, he’s curious. Sometimes he does even though she’s his mother. The gate just comes natural to him as a result of her neglect. Even more so as she parades her queenly new lover and their perfect trio of babies in front of his face. 

It feels like a slap and has about as much effect on him as an actual one does - it stings and the hurt goes down deep to fester there. That hurt becomes a rot that he tries not to nature but it breeds in him. “I’ll hate her if you want me to.” ever eager to please the only one that has ever loved him unconditionally. 

“Sometimes I already do.” 

his confession is pained, whispered.

@[rapt] 

[rapt]

there is a dream in the space between the hammer and the nail ------ the dream of about-to-be-hit, which is a bad dream ------------ but the nail will take the hit if it gets to sleep inside the wood forever Abysm knows him well, but there’s a part he doesn’t. Rapt has never told his son about his time spent with the monster-king – how could he? What way is there to tell your son, he hurt me and I liked it? He hurt me and I only wanted more? No, there are some things that must be kept from children. Some secrets kept buried. So it’s not a lie, exactly, that he lets Abysm believe all his sadness stems from Kagerus’s abdication of their family. Plenty of it does. He’s cauterized his own wounds well enough, but there will always be a sludge of anger and sadness at her for leaving Abysm. His own abandonment was expected – a given, really. But not their son. Not the perfect mix of them. He’s glad, when Abysm materializes, stepping from dreams into the corporeal. Rapt smiles, genuine, returns the affection, savoring his son’s scent, the way his coat feels beneath his muzzle. He’s not prepare for the question, though, and freezes when it’s posed to him. “Abysm…” he sighs, “I don’t hate her. She hurt me, and she hurt our family, but I don’t hate her.” Nor has he forgiven her – but he tells the truth. Perhaps he lacks the capacity for hate, or perhaps he could never hate her for what she gave him (she will always be Abysm’s mother, after all). He tucks his chin over the boy’s neck, draws him closer. It’s no longer the easy motion it was when he was smaller, but he manages nonetheless. “She’s still your mother,” he says, “and she’s trying to make up for what she did.” That, too, is true enough. It is not enough for him to forgive, but that doesn’t matter, not in the larger scheme of things. rapt caius x else

[abysm]

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

Abysm does not believe his father hides anything from him, least of all secret hurts that bring pleasure mixed with pain. It’s not something he’s ever considered - that Rapt had a life before him, before even Kagerus came along. He’s been selfish that way. Not even stopping to think of anything BA - Before Abysm.

The quiet is really too long. He festers in it. Hungering and thirsting for the things his father will tell him. Rapt gives him a smile and all the affection that he’s ever thought really mattered. Then his name comes on a sigh and his ears flatten against his head because he knows this is going to be something unexpected—

It is. Rapt admits he doesn’t hate her and something inside Abysm deflates. It makes him seem that much more sadder and smaller and hollow. Hollow is a good word for it. The abyss-boy has an abyss opening up in him. He should have known, his father really was too good for this world.

 Nothing begets nothing, he thinks. Familiar with the ugly thoughts that creep and crawl around in his head. But he had no energy or desire to resist the way his father tucked his chin over his neck and drew him closer. It’s his turn to sigh and rub the side of his face against the golden hairs of Rapt’s fur. He always smells like home.

“I know she but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough. Or it’s too little too late.” he is aware that he sounds utterly petulant and bratty. He cannot help the sulk that spoils his voice. 

Abysm doesn’t want to be like her at all - quick to abandon, quick to replace, hungry for crowns and lovers and legacy-making. He’s part of that legacy though maybe more of an ill gotten part... Here with his father, he’s afraid he’ll turn out to be just like her - full of nothingness and always searching for whatever is just out of reach. He doesn’t know how to tell his father that he already feels that way.

So empty.
So lost.

ABYSM

@[rapt]