Ok heavy heavy vent concept below, please read tw's before reading
Another fauxcest comfort concept with big bro(he/him) and little sib(it/its)
Tw: sh (cutting), blood, mental health issues, medication side effects
This concept take a harm reduction approach to sh. Instead of a "you need to stop doing this right now!" it's more of a "do you need safe, clean blades?"
As always do not read this if it'll be upsetting or triggering, please take care of yourself first and foremost <3
His little sibling had been gone for a while. They'd been hanging out in his room when it got up to use the bathroom, but now it'd been far too long for that.
He opened the bathroom door to find it sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the dark. The light from the hallway illuminating its crying and shaking frame. Blood dripping down its thighs, shoulders, and wrists. Blade still in its hand, mere millimeters from its skin.
The poor kid looks like a deer in headlights staring at its big brother, caught in a moment it never thought anyone would see.
He steps into the bathroom, doing his best to keep calm. He shuts the door behind him and turns the light on as he approaches his terrified sibling. The kid tries backing up into the bathtub, but there's nowhere further for it to go after that.
Its big brother holds out his hand gently, not saying a word, and it shakily drops the bloodied blade into his hand. He takes it, carefully drops it onto the counter, and washes his hands.
“What's going on kiddo?” He asks while grabbing a washcloth and wound wash from the small closet. He runs the washcloth under lukewarm water and turns back to his sibling, “What's got you so upset?”
“Wanted to see if…,” it pauses as its brother gently grabs its arm, blotting some of the blood off of the cuts, “… if I could make myself cry.”
He pauses for a moment, looking up at his siblings face, tears barely formed in its eyes. “Meds make it really hard,” it explains as its brother continues cleaning its arms. He leans over the tub to clean its thighs.
“So you thought this would get you there?” he asks to clarify. He grabs the second washcloth, adding some wound wash to it, and starts cleaning its wrists.
“Exactly,” it affirms, wincing slightly at the sting from the wound wash.
“And did it work?”
“No,” it mumbles out.
“I'm sorry kiddo,” he says gently, moving from its wrists to its shoulders. They sit in silence while he finishes cleaning up its wounds and bandages them the best he can.
When he's finished he stands up and carefully grabs the blade off the counter, “Stay here kiddo, I'll be right back ok?” It nods and he exits the bathroom, disappearing behind the softly closing door.
He returns a few minutes later, without the blade and holding a hoodie and shorts. He helps his sibling get dressed, pulling the shorts on first and then the hoodie.
“Did you hide it?” It asks quietly
“No, I got rid of it,” he responds, “It was dirty kiddo, wouldn't be safe to keep around. If you need, we can talk about getting clean ones another day.”
It nods, gently taking its big brother's hand. He leads it to his room, letting it crawl into his bed before he does. He stays there watching it until it falls asleep, making sure it's safe until he drifts off himself.
