#mentions of abuse tw

[lady-wallace]

Whumptober Alt Prompt #7 - "All Safe and Sound" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

Using a @whumptober alt prompt for today. A bit of a different twist on a Giorno scar reveal fic for today with some misunderstandings and protective papa bears Bruno and Abbacchio

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Prompts Used: Alt. #7: Examination Fandoms: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 Character: Giorno

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Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

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Abbacchio hurried through the doors of the emergency room with the bundle of blankets and blond teen in his arms.

"Hey!" he called sharply to the nurse working the reception desk. "I'm gonna need some help here. The kid's fever spiked and he's currently unresponsive."

The nurse moved far too calmly for Abbacchio's liking. "Do you know the reason for the fever?"

"He's sick," Abbacchio snapped. "Flu or something—I don't know, I'm not a doctor. He came down with it a few days ago." Even now he could feel Giorno shivering in his arms, soft whimpers escaping every once in a while. Abbacchio readjusted him so that his head wasn't lolling uncomfortably over his arm, but instead tucked against his chest.

"Any other symptoms?"

"Regular coughing and congestion, vomiting—can we please get him some help?"

"Calm down, sir, we'll get him to an examination room shortly."

The nurse picked up the phone and called someone as Abbacchio was practically grinding his teeth, standing there with Giorno still in his arms.

A doctor finally showed up and she beckoned to Abbacchio. "Follow me, I'll see to him."

Abbacchio gratefully followed her down the hall and lowered Giorno onto the exam bed.

"How long has he been like this?" the doctor asked.

"He's only been unresponsive for about an hour, once I saw his fever had gone up near 105, I decided to bring him in. He hasn't been able to keep anything down, not even liquids so he's severely dehydrated."

The doctor was silent as she began unwrapping Giorno from the blanket, giving him a cursory examination.

"You said he had flu symptoms?"

"Yes, as far as we know, it started out like a head cold and then he got the fever and vomiting," Abbacchio replied, folding his arms tightly across his chest as he watched the doctor peel Giorno's eyelids back and look in his ears and nose before taking his temperature.

"Anything in his medical history that I need to know about?"

Abbacchio sighed in exasperation, throwing his hands up. "I don't know."

"I assume you're not his parent," the doctor said, eyeing him up and down.

"No," Abbacchio replied.

"Guardian, then? Or some other family member?"

"I…no, I guess guardian?"

"Sir, I'm going to need a definitive answer on that."

"What the hell does it matter what I am to him? Can't you do your damn job either way? He's a sick kid, help him!"

"What is his name and age?" the doctor asked stiffly as she checked Giorno's temperature.

"Giorno Giovanna, he's sixteen."

The doctor continued silently, putting her stethoscope in her ears and slipping it under Giorno's shirt to listen to his heart. She then rolled him onto his side presumably to listen to his lungs, but as she started to roll his shirt up his back she stopped, freezing slightly before she tugged it back down and turned to Abbacchio with a stony look.

"Sir, I need you to leave the room."

"What? No way, I'm not leaving until I know he's gonna be okay!" Abbacchio protested. "He'll freak out if he wakes up here without anyone he knows."

"I'm afraid I will not allow any argument on this issue," the doctor said and simply marched over, grabbing Abbacchio's arm roughly and pulling him toward the door. "Unless you want me to call security. I'll be out to discuss things with you soon."

Abbacchio was so stunned that he allowed her to shove him out the door and close it behind him. He stood there for a long moment, confusion and worry crashing through him before he finally forced himself to go back to the waiting room, slumping in one of the chairs and bouncing his leg anxiously.

He felt awful, honestly. Bruno had only left for one freaking day and Abbacchio hadn't even been able to watch over a sick kid. Trish and Narancia, who were the only other ones home had been helpful with Giorno's tending but they hadn't known any more than he did. They'd all thought it was just a flu. But then when Giorno's fever spiked so much he turned delirious and now with the doctor's reaction…what if something genuinely serious was wrong with the kid and none of them had noticed? Abbacchio had just thought it was because Giorno had the habit of running himself into the ground so when a bug got to him it hit him really hard—Bruno was the same way. But what if it wasn't something so simple as the yearly flu?

He finally plucked up the courage to call Bruno. He'd promised to call Trish and Narancia too but wanted to wait until he got any news.

"Abbacchio?" Bruno picked up after a couple rings.

"Hey," Abbacchio rubbed a hand over his face. "Giorno…he got worse, so I took him to the emergency room. His fever spiked and I didn't know what else to do."

"God," Bruno murmured. "Okay, no, you did what you should have, Leone. I'm back in the city and I'll make my way over there after dropping the others off. Did they say anything else?"

"No," Abbacchio didn't want to alarm Bruno before he got here in person, especially if he was just reading the situation wrong. "The doctor's still looking at him."

"Okay. Thank you for looking after him, Leone. I'm sure he'll be okay."

Abbacchio wasn't entirely sure, but he ended the call.

He waited a little bit longer, but finally got impatient and stood, heading back toward the room he'd left Giorno in.

He was surprised to see the doctor and a couple nurses standing in the open doorway, talking quietly. Abbacchio could see past them to Giorno lying in the bed, covered in a blanket with an IV drip attached to his arm, hopefully giving him some much needed hydration.

When the doctor spotted him coming their way, she pointed to him with a couple murmured words to the others before stepping up as if to confront him.

"Sir, I asked you to wait in the waiting room."

"All I wanted was an answer as to whether the kid would be okay or not," Abbacchio snapped.

"He's going to be fine," the doctor said shortly. "We're giving him some intravenous fluids right now and some strong medicine to bring the fever down."

"Great," Abbacchio replied, still uneasy. "So can I sit with him, then?"

"We think it's best that you stay away from Giorno until we can ask him a few questions."

Abbacchio frowned, genuinely confused. "Why? He contagious or something? More so than a normal flu?"

"This isn't about him being sick," one of the other doctors spoke up. "This is about your relationship to the young man."

Abbacchio felt like he was about to tear his hair out. "What the hell does that have to do with it?"

"Normally, nothing," the doctor said. "But when a patient shows such clear signs of abuse, it's our job to ask. Especially when they come in with an obviously aggressive 'guardian'." The last word was spoken very pointedly with a cocked eyebrow but Abbacchio was still hooked on 'clear signs of abuse'.

"What do you mean signs of abuse?" he demanded, voice raised quite a bit now.

"Sir, calm down—"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down!" Abbacchio snapped. "You refuse to give me Giorno's diagnosis, kick me out of the room, and then accuse me of abusing him? Just because I waited an hour to see if his fever would go down by itself instead of taking him here at the first sign of a sniffle?"

"Stop deflecting," the doctor said sternly. "This isn't about him being sick, this about the scars that are literally covering his back."

That information was like a slap to Abbacchio's face. He stood there with his mouth hanging open. "The what?!"

"For you to even enter this room, we're going to need both proof of guardianship and Giorno's express approval—after it has been given in private to one of our staff with the promise of security should he refuse."

"What the fuck kind of bastard do you think I am to beat a kid?" Abbacchio demanded, furious.

"Call security," the doctor told one of the nurses firmly. "Sir, I'll give you one more chance to leave before you're escorted off the premises."

"I'm not leaving the kid here alone!" Abbacchio shouted.

"What exactly is going on here?"

The authoritative voice stopped everyone, and Abbacchio spun in relief to see Bucciarati striding up.

"Bruno, thank god," Abbacchio growled. "The doctor here refuses to let me see Giorno because she's convinced I've abused him."

"Excuse me?" Bruno demanded, eyebrow raised.

The doctor folded her arms over her chest. "Are you Signore Giovanna's guardian?"

"Yes, I am," Bruno replied firmly. "What is the problem here? Why can't Abbacchio sit with him? I assume a badly sick minor is reason enough to forgo usual visiting hours?"

"It's policy that if we expect a patient of being the victim of abuse we cannot allow any potential abusers near them."

"What abuse are we talking about here?" Bruno demanded.

"She says he has scars on his back," Abbacchio said, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought. "Do you know anything about that?"

"What?" Bruno asked incredulously. "Are you accusing Abbacchio of beating him?"

"Well, sir, someone clearly has," the doctor said firmly. "And unless I get some answers out of you two, neither of you are going to be allowed in that room."

"Now see here, Doctor," Bucciarati said, voice low and dangerous. Abbacchio could see his Stand aura wavering around him, Sticky Fingers' hands turning into fists over his own. "Whatever abuse happened to that boy it was not done under my roof, and I resent—"

"Please…stop."

Everyone froze, turning to the open door of the room to see Giorno, propping himself up weakly, looking toward them.

"Giorno," Bruno murmured stepping forward before the doctor held her arm across the door. Abbacchio was sure for a second that Bruno was going to zip it off her body, but Giorno's voice carried weakly to them again.

"They didn't do it. Please let them in," he said.

The doctor didn't relent. "Are you just saying that because you're scared of what they'll do?" she asked kindly. "I promise, no one will hurt you here. We'll have them taken away if that's what you want."

"No!" Giorno pleaded, reaching out and the sight made Abbacchio's heart ache, furious at the doctor. "Don't do that!"

Bruno moved forward. "This has gone far enough, I'm going in to see him."

"Call security!" the doctor snapped, making a move to grab at Bruno's arm, as the other nurses stepped forward.

"Is that you, Bucciarati?" A new voice called as footsteps came down the hall. "What's going on here?"

Abbacchio turned to see a middle-aged man in scrubs and a lab coat walking down the hall, brow pinched in confusion.

Bruno turned and let out a relived sigh. "Ah, Dr. Folliero, I'm so glad you're on duty tonight. One of your doctors seems to have gotten the wrong idea about one of my men."

"What's going on, Marzia?" the doctor asked.

The woman folded her arms. "Doctor, this man brought in a very sick young man with signs of abuse and neither of them have done anything to convince me that one of them was not the one responsible."

"They're not!" Giorno's weak voice came again before he coughed, one of the nurses pushed inside to go see to him.

"This man is with you, Bucciarati?" Dr. Folliero asked, motioning to Abbacchio.

"Yes," both Bruno and Abbacchio said at the same time as the doctor nodded.

"Normally, I would say your dedication is admirable, Marzia," Dr. Folliero said calmly. "However, in this case you're quite mistaken." He reached out to squeeze Bruno's arm fondly. "I've known Bruno Bucciarati since he was little more than a boy coming to visit his ailing father. And since then he has brought me many children off the streets and paid for their treatment out of pocket. He is the last person you should be accusing of abuse to anyone other than the abusers themselves."

"And I assure you that Abbacchio does not beat children either," Bruno said firmly. "He just doesn't take kindly to people keeping information from him when it involves family." Abbacchio flushed, somewhat embarrassed by his conduct, but he would still stand by his principles.

The doctor Marzia looked thoroughly deflated. "I apologize, Signore. I made a mistake."

"This time, yes," Bruno told her. "But do not let that keep you from doing the same in the future. It could save someone's life."

"Well said," Dr. Folliero nodded, giving his protégé a fond look. "I'll see to the boy myself."

Bruno instantly flew into the room with Abbacchio quick to follow.

"How are you doing, kid?" he asked Giorno softly. "Sorry for the trouble."

Bruno took a seat beside him, taking his hand and squeezing in reassurance.

Giorno looked awful, lying there, pale, except for his flushed cheeks, the IV drip leading to a taped needle in the crook of his arm.

"Feel a little better," he murmured.

Dr. Folliero checked him over briefly. "Your fever is down to a manageable 102.5. If you keep this up and are able to keep something in your stomach by tomorrow, then we'll see about getting you out of here."

Giorno nodded tiredly, before his eyes slid shut again, clasping Bruno's hand firmly.

"He'll be all right?" Abbacchio asked the doctor.

The old man smiled at him kindly. "Yes. It's just a bad flu. I would simply recommend he get lots of rest in order to recuperate once you get him back home."

"That's all I wanted to know before," Abbacchio muttered.

Folliero's face sobered them. "I take it from the conversation you didn't know about his scars?"

Bruno's face turned pained as he shook his head. "No, I didn't. Giorno's only been with us for about six months and he hasn't told me much about his past yet."

The doctor nodded. "Well, I'm glad he found you, Bucciarati, wherever he might have been before." He squeezed Bruno's shoulder and shook Abbacchio's hand before he left. "I'll be here all night. Don't hesitate to ask for me if he needs anything."

"Thank you," Bruno said, tiredly.

Abbacchio stood there for a long second before he pulled out his phone. "I'm gonna go call the others real quick. Give them an update."

Bruno nodded, still focused on Giorno.

By the time he got back, someone had brought two hot coffees and Abbacchio gratefully took one as he pulled another chair over to the side of the bed.

"Hey," Abbacchio said, nudging Bruno's knee. "Try not to interrogate him about it. I'm sure he didn't want us to find out like this."

Bruno's look was stricken but he nodded reluctantly, reaching out to push some stray bangs from Giorno's sweaty forehead. "I know. Just…the thought that the bastard who did it might still be out there somewhere…"

"I know," Abbacchio replied darkly. "But ultimately it's up to Giorno."

They sat mostly in silence all night. Abbacchio dozed off, but woke as the shift nurse came in around dawn to check on Giorno.

"He's doing well," she said kindly. "Fever's down to 100 now. We'll let him try eating someone when he wakes up."

Bruno nodded gratefully and the nurse left. Abbacchio stood, stretching with a yawn. "I'll go grab some more coffee."

When he came back, Giorno was awake, and allowing Bruno to prop him up, holding a cup for him to drink from.

"Hey, you're looking a little better," Abbacchio told him, setting Bruno's coffee on the beside table.

"I feel a little better," Giorno admitted. "Just…tired."

"Yes, and you'll be resting up for quite a while," Bruno insisted. Abbacchio wished he could get a recording to play back the next time Bruno got sick.

Giorno looked down at his lap, hands clenched in the blanket. "I…owe you an explanation."

"No, Giorno," Bruno said quietly. "You don't owe us anything, especially not until you're well."

Giorno fidgeted. "if I don't tell you now, I'll just be thinking of it the whole time," he said tiredly, hands clutching the blankets tighter. "The scars…they're from my stepfather. He used to beat me. Usually when he was drunk, but not always. I…I didn't tell you about them before because I just wanted to put that part of my life behind me, but I couldn't let them kick you out, and I couldn't stand to hear them accuse you of doing it because you're…" His eyes filled and his breath hitched. He cringed, knuckles going white as he clenched his fists tighter in the blankets. "You've all been so good to me and I didn't think I'd ever know what it felt like to be part of a family."

"Oh, Giorno," Bruno whispered, looking on the verge of tears himself. He was already standing before he asked. "May I hug you?"

Giorno nodded, choking back a sob, and clung to Bruno as he pulled him into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he sniffled. "I didn't mean to get like this."

"It's the fever talking," Abbacchio said, having mercy on the kid as he sat on the other side of the bed and opened his arms to hug Giorno next. "But you don't need to apologize either. I'm sorry you had shit parents and I promise that all you have to do is say the word and if they're still breathing, they won't be for long."

Giorno squeezed him weakly. "Thanks, Abba," he murmured into his chest.

Abbacchio met Bucciarati's eyes over Giorno's head with a silent nod. They would definitely be looking into information about Giorno's stepfather, keeping tabs on him.

Abbacchio pulled away and Bruno leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to the side of Giorno's head. "Best get some more rest. You should be able to go home by tonight."

Giorno nodded and passed out almost instantly as Bruno pulled the blanket over him again.

"You know, Leone," Bruno said quietly. "I used to wonder if it was worth it, worth all the blood and pain and filthy deeds this life brings. But being able to have the power to protect the ones who need it—it makes it all worth it in the end, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Abbacchio replied sincerely. "It does."

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Check out my Whumptober Masterpost HERE for more stories!

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[storiedhistories]

@stygicniron asked: you gotta rate your dads from worst dad to best dad go!

LISTEN, THIS WAS REALLY HARD.

To begin with, I have a lot of dads on my blog, so I had to sit down and figure out a rating system, and well, now I guess I have a scale for measuring how terrible a person can be. "On a scale of Kronos to Tom Dupain, what kind of dad are you?

ANYWAY, without further ado, I give you the OfficMAL DADsignation Ranking (two puns for the price of one!)!

Best dad: Tom Dupain. Hands down the best dad. His most problematic trait is being a little overprotective, but after being akumatized, he works on cutting back on that. Even if he still worries about Marinette (and he always will), he knows she can take care of herself.

Percy: The man loves his children and would do pretty much anything for them. YES, there's a quest in the Tal'dorei campaign setting where you have to find one of them, and YES, she has a gun, but still, pretty solid dad. Looks out for his kids and protects them the best he can.

Hudson: Overall, a pretty unproblematic dad. He doesn't know he's Broadway's biological father, but he kind of dads the whole clan.

Macbeth: Actually a pretty good dad before he died the first time! He taught Luach how to be just and good, to think before he acted, to listen to all sides of an argument, and to respect and stick to deals that you had made, especially with your allies.

Hank: He did his best to be a good dad. It wasn't his fault there was ice, and it wasn't his fault that their car got hit by a truck. It also wasn't his fault that the human surgeon was too high to operate on Cole, that the android couldn't save him. Hank loved Cole so much, and he would have done his absolute best to raise that boy right. And with the way I play him, he's going to do what he can to help Connor in this strange, new times they're going into.

The Doctor: I know the Doctor was a father before NuWho, but I'm still working on getting through Classic Who, so we're going with what I know. He also did the whole "I refuse to acknowledge you" thing originally with Jenny (and I mostly play Nine, but we're talking Ten here, which is fine), but he very much turned that around and was heartsbroken when he thought she'd died.

Goliath: Originally starts out denying that he's Angela's dad due to the "hatchlings are raised by the whole clan" mentality gargoyles have, but it's pretty obvious. Once he accepts Angela, he would do pretty much anything to keep her safe, and he definitely does get a bit overprotective at times.

Hades: He knows he's not the best dad, but he's definitely not the worst dad. Hades loves his children very much, and he tried to do right by them, as well as he could. It's not always quite the best thing, but he's definitely trying.

Joel: Despite dealing with being a single dad, he did a pretty good job with Sarah, up until the outbreak. He tried to protect her, getting shot himself in the process, but she still died. And with Ellie, he originally refused to bond with her, but after he did…., there is nothing he wouldn't do for her. He's lower on this list because of some of the circumstances of what he DID do for Ellie, since that went against her wishes.

Alador: He may not have intended to, but he definitely contributed to the emotional neglect of his children. (I'm going to go into a lot of this in its own post, but we're rating right now, so that'll have to wait.) Once he fully realized what was happening and how unhappy they all were, he did stick his neck out and try to change, and it was a long, hard road back.

William Adama: Left when the boys were still pretty young, and didn't realize that their mom was emotionally abusing them for a while. He and Lee do end up patching things up later, but it takes a lot of work on both ends.

Kratos: He did his best to be a good father to Calliope when he was home. However, he did kill her, and her ashes are permanently affixed to his body. And for the first decade of his son's life, he was pretty emotionally unavailable. It took Faye dying and Kratos and Atreus going on the journey to spread her ashes for the two of them to start to understand one another and for Kratos to start truly parenting Atreus. That being said, he would do anything for his son, including die for him, if he needed to.

Thor: Thor wanted to be a good dad so much, but circumstances made that really hard. He was abused by his own father and ended up passing some of that abuse down to his own children. In the end, he was determined to change, to be better for his remaining child, and it got him killed. (I want to rate him higher because I love him, but THIS WAS REALLY HARD, and unfortunately, this is where he ended up.)

Gabriel: Gabriel Agreste is emotionally abusive and manipulative. There are literally bars on his son's room, and he's controlling as fuck. Not to mention the fact that he's a supervillain who routinely tries to beat up his own son (even though he doesn't know Adrien is Chat, it goes against his ranking).

Odin: He is also emotionally abusive and manipulative. He also plays favourites and gaslights his 'lesser' children very frequently. And plays his grandchildren against their parents, if he needs to. the worst part is that he makes it seem like the person he's abusing is just imagining it, like it's all in their head, that of course he's not terrible; you're just an awful person to think such things.

Worst dad: Kronos. In the words of Chiron from the PJO musical: "Remember my lecture: he ate his children."

[almamaterx]

@tommymaddox

TW; mentions of past abuse (physical), mentions of death, mentions of medical issues and machinery, alcoholism

The steady beep, beep, beep of the machine was steadily beginning to drive Alma crazy, it was a bit messed up really. Sat there at the bedside of her dying fathers hospital bed and all she could think about was how annoying the thing monitoring his heart rate sounded, was it the noise she was annoyed at or the fact that when she'd entered the room there had been no change to it? No quickening of pace, no difference. Like her presence didn't even matter to him or, somehow worse, like her showing up hadn't been a surprise, like he knew the whole time that she'd come running back to be by his side...bastard. Only she had hadn't she? And for what? He couldn't talk to her due to the breathing tube shoved down his throat, what would he have even said? Maybe it was better this way. Maybe she secretly got a kind of fucked up joy watching him struggle to breathe, just like she had all those years in that house....maybe it was more complicated than even all that. Her father hadn't cried at her mothers funeral, that's what had come into Almas head after she got off the phone with the hospital. He hadn't cried at her mothers funeral and she wouldn't cry at his, a promise to a ghost that probably didn't care about all that anymore. The woman had been studying her fathers eyes, which were unnervingly enough also her and Teo's eyes, since she'd come in the room, a sort of silent staring competition that was only broken up when a nurse would come in to check on him. She could tell that some of them were unnerved by just how calm she seemed, sitting cross legged in a chair next to her dying father and not even a mist in her eye. Then there were the older nurses and Doctors, the ones who had been there all those years ago for all those ER visits because one of the Cardozo ladies had walked into a door again or fell or whatever other excuse they used, they seemed to be content to let her be as she was.

Alma was brought out of her musings by the distant ring of a cellphone, it took a moment for her to realize that the ringing was apparently not so distant as her mind was. She rooted through the pockets of the oversized grey hoodie she had thrown over her tank top before heading here and pulled out her phone, she hit accept without checking who it was. Thankfully it was only Liam "So...how are you holding up? "I'm fine" Her reply is immediate, quick. A lie that she doesn't even have to think about. There's silence on the other end of the phone, the silence isn't uncomfortable but patient as he always is. "I mean I don't...I don't know its-" "complicated" she nods as he finishes her sentence even though she knows he can't see her, he doesn't need to. He knows. The familiarity is a comfort, he's always been that for her. An oasis, a calm island in the middle of a stormy sea. "How's Teo doing?" "Do you want to talk to him?" "What do you mean talk to him? He should be in bed!" "I'm working on it, he's a bit hyped up after all the excitement with this last minute sleepover" in the background she could hear her boy saying something that sounded like 'best surprise ever' and she shook her head as moved to rest it on one hand "Put him on please" "Mama when are you gonna be back?" "I don't know baby...but I'll be there when you wake up" Alma could practically hear the pout through the phone "So if I go to bed now..." "You'll get to see me that much sooner" There was silence on the other end of the phone, weighing his options. In the distance she heard hurried footsteps, a loved one rushing to get to their persons room perhaps. "Okay fine..." She was too busy chuckling at the overexaggerated way in which Teo had sighed to realize that the footsteps were now less hurried and a lot closer.

She was brought back to the present by the sound of her fathers EKG machine suddenly increasing like he was panicked, when she looked back at him he was no longer staring at her instead his gaze was fixed on the doorway. Curious to see what had prompted such a reaction she turned her own emerald gaze to the door. Her breath caught, she could feel her heart either skip a beat or stop entirely she wasn't too sure. What she was sure of was standing in the doorway was the last person she'd ever expect to see. Alma's mouth opened and closed, her eyes widened "What's that noise?" The phone, she was still on the phone. "It's nothing baby. I love you, I'll see you in the morning" the brunette waited until she heard those words repeated back and then ended the call. Her fathers heart still beat out of control, she didn't take her eyes from the man at the door even as she reached out a hand and rested it on her fathers arm. It was a response she'd learned when she'd been a child, it was her job to soothe, to fix.

"Tommy...?" her voice was soft, confused. Almost as if she was questioning not why he was there but if he was even really there or if, in the emotional complexity of the situation, she'd just lost it completely. "What are you doing here?"

[warrenwilkinson]

Someone to stay

TIME: March 18th, 2023 PLACE: Warren & Maya’s place / Seattle BETWEEN: Maya ( @msmayaparker ) & Warren NOTES: Written on Discord. NSFW. Several TW (see tags) Title from here

It had been a mistake doing this. Or no, it hadn't been a mistake. Maya knew that at some point she needed to start wearing dresses again. The only way forward was, indeed, forward. She had waited until day two of Warren's business trip. It had gone about as terribly as she had expected. A full blown panic attack had seized her the moment she'd caught sight of herself in the mirror. Now, she lay curled up in their shared bed, tears drying on her cheeks. Hermes had curled up next to her. He woofed softly, trying to comfort her.

Not so long ago, Maya would've taken this feeling and gone out to find someone, anyone to want her or gone to fight club. Certainly, she would be halfway to drunk. Now though, she picked up the phone to ring Warren. It was still early. With any luck, he would still be at work. She just wanted to hear his voice. She didn't want him to know she was struggling. It would just make him feel bad, just add another strike against whatever invisible scorecard existed in people's minds about her. "Hi," she said when he answered the phone, "Are you busy?"

Warren wasn’t so happy about this trip. He wasn’t fond of leaving Maya after just a few weeks after she had recovered her memories. He probably had developed certain dependency and maybe in another time of his life he’s notice how bad it was for him but now, he didn’t care. His love for her overpassed anything else.

They texted and talked almost every day and he was never too busy for her. Even on meetings he would answer the texts no matter what. That’s exactly why as soon as his prone started vibrating with a call, he raised a finger to stop one of the managers from keep talking and picked the call, “Hey, sugar, never too busy for you. Just give me a minute,” he smiled and pulled the phone away enough to dismiss everyone, “We’ll continue after lunch ok? Please order something nice and charge it to the company,” he said with an apologetic smile as their employees nodded and left the conference room, “I’m all yours now, baby girl, how are you doing?” he asked still unable to notice something was off.

"Wait, you don't have to..." Maya started to say. She worried her bottom lip as Warren spoke to whoever was in his meeting. She wanted to be important to him, of course she did. But sometimes it felt like she was too important to him, like he was setting aside the rest of his life for her. "I'm safe," she said, which was not a lie, "I missed you. But if you're in a meeting, you can get back to it." After all, she was being silly. A dress couldn't hurt her. The man who has hurt her was dead, thanks to the man she was currently on the phone with. There was nothing to be afraid of and yet here she was falling apart anyway. Maya curled tighter into Warren's side of the bed, feeling safer surrounded by his scent.

He heard her but he was already dismissing his team, “It’s ok, Maya, we hadn’t eaten so I’ sure they’re thankful for the break. Besides, they’re gonna be eating something nice,” he reassured her so she wouldn’t worry about it. The way she answered was enough for him to sit straighter and frown, “you’re safe but not ok,” he pointed slowly, “I miss you too, baby girl,” he added, “No, no, I’m all yours and I wanna know what happened. You sound sad,” he started to loosen his tie as he listened.

Maybe she should've gone to fight club. This was just making things worse. There wasn't much he could do for her and now she was getting in the way of his business. Maya swallowed when he picked up on the fact she had said that she was safe as opposed to good or even fine. "No, it’s okay," she insisted, "You shouldn't mess up your business on my account. You already took all those days off because of me. Everyone's okay here."

He sighed as she spoke, sad to hear her hold back again, “Are you gonna lie to me?” he asked in a sad tone, “my business is years old, I could take a decade off and it’d be fine,” he assured, “I love you and I want to know what happened and why you sound so sad. I really want to know,” he insisted. He had never told her how he actually didn’t even need to work. His fortune was big enough for him to live the rest of eternity without worries but he knew that might be too much for Maya to feel comfortable with it.

"I'm not lying," she said, voice immediately sharp. She didn't lie. She wasn't a liar, no matter what people had said about her. She didn't always tell the full truth, but that was not the same thing. "It doesn't matter, it’s stupid," she said. Old habits were easy to slip into when she felt like this, and her defensiveness was returning. This was a mistake. She shouldn't have called. She shouldn't have tried to put the stupid dress on. She shouldn't have done any of this. It was stupid; she was stupid.

“But there’s something you’re not telling me, I can tell,” he said still sounding sad, “it’s not stupid if it made you feel bad and I need to know tht you’re really ok. I’ll cancel the rest of the trip and go back right now to make sure if you don’t tell me,” maybe it was a low blow but he wanted to make sure everything was really fine. He knew about her nightmares and her insecurities, but he wanted to figure out what had hurt her while he was away.

Maya could hear the sadness in his voice and it only intensified the dark spiral in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Her face turned further into his pillow. Knowing that she was fucking up didn't manage to stop her from continuing. "I'll be fine," she argued, "You don't need to ruin your trip because of me. You can't threaten me into talking." With that, Maya hung up. She knew that she sounded like the petulant teenage she felt like.

Turning fully into the pillow, she started to cry. She was so stupid and weak. There was a reason she had waited until Warren was gone. She needed to figure this out on her own without bothering him with it.

He didn’t have the chance to say anything when she snapped and hung up on him. He swallowed hard cause he had pushed too far. He should have listened and let her tell him on her own. He was torn about calling her back or just drop everything and take a flight back home. Either way she’d be mad at him, and he deserved it cause he should have stopped when she said she was ok. He dialed her number and waiting, hoping she would pick up and even if she did, he would flight back home that same night no matter what.

Even with her face buried in Warren's pillow, she could hear her phone buzz. She let it ring. Her crying wouldn't allow her to speak anyway, but at the moment she didn't know how to apologize. It had been wrong of her to snap at him. Warren had just been trying to help.

Hermes laid his head on her side, trying his best to help as well. She curled away from the gentleness. She didn't deserve gentleness. Eventually, Maya quieted. But she stayed there and pulled the covers over her head. The sequined silver dress she had bought lay abandoned on the floor, slightly torn from where she had ripped it off. A few sequins glinted in the bedroom light.

His heart sunk when she didn’t answer the phone and he didn’t insist. Instead, he called his assistant and arranged a flight back home. He could finish that meeting through skype and his team would probably be happy to go back home sooner so after his arrangements he joined the team on the room where they were eating and let them know they all could go back home and take a few days off fully paid. They all seemed relieved of not having to spend two more days in eternal meetings with him.

The flight back felt longer than ever, and he was glad there was a car waiting for him at the airport to drive him home. He hated he couldn’t just appear at will like other of his siblings cause it’d be a lot easier. The house was silent and dark when he was dropped off and he sighed knowing whatever had happened was bad and he only hoped she was home and not out alone. He entered the house and moved to the bedroom right away to find Maya on their bed, more specifically on his side. When he turned on the lights he found out what had happened when he noticed the dress on the floor, “I’m home baby girl,” he said softly as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

Time passed, Maya wasn't sure how much. Hermes wiggled into her embrace and eventually she started to pet him. It helped a little. After some time, she willed herself to get up. She couldn't backslide. She wouldn't let herself. But her thoughts were a tangled snarl of self-doubt and fear. The Bernese Rottie followed her closely. In the kitchen, she managed to make herself a sandwich and get a glass of water. It was something, she reminded herself, even when back in the bedroom she only convinced herself to eat a few bites of it.

She fell asleep, dreams a stormy sea of fraught emotions. It wasn't long before she woke up again, still curled up on Warren's side of the bed. Maya laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think her way out of how she felt. It didn't help. In fact, it made it worse. After some time, Hermes leapt from the bed, barking happily. Warren must be home. Covering herself with the comforter, she curled further into the bed. After a minute or two, Maya heard the door open a little more as Hermes returned to the room, no doubt with Warren. The bed dipped twice as the two of them joined her in her little corner. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "You didn't have to cut your trip short."

He reached to place his hand over what he thought was Maya’s back, “don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he assured but still didn’t try to peel away the cover from her, “I know I didn’t have to but I wanted to. I could feel something was off and I wasn’t gonna be able to focus and trust me, you might as well be my marketing team favorite person right now cause they didn’t have to spend more days with me,” he tried to joke, “can I get a hug and a kiss?” he asked hoping that might be incentive enough for her to come out from under the covers.

 Deep down he knew in a way he had been responsible for whatever Maya had pushed herself to because he had been the one bringing up the dresses subject without knowing at first why it was such a big issue for Maya. Now that he did, he really regretted to have ever sent a dress to her. Now he felt like she thought she needed to force herself to cross that bridge and it was clear she wasn’t ready for it and he had no rush either. He didn’t care if she never wore a dress at all but he also knew she was not gonna accept that as a definitive answer on the subject.

Maya considered staying curled under the covers. It felt like the safer option. After a moment though, she emerged to crawl into his lap and curl herself against him instead. It was warm and comfortable there. Warm and comfortable was good. Hermes too curled up next to them. She hadn't managed to get dressed yet, instead wearing just a black bra and boy shorts with little stars on them. The warmth of Warren's body meant she didn't feel the cold.

She knew she had to stand on her own two feet, eventually and metaphorically. She felt guilty that Warren might feel like she would backslide without his support. "I can't be your whole life," Maya said softly, "You shouldn't feel like you have to drop everything just because I'm sad." She sighed, "I'm sad kind of a lot."

He was glad that Maya came out from her hiding spot and moved to her rightful place on his lap. Warren wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek against the top of her head, "is it bad that you are?" He asked with a frown cause little did Maya know that she had truly became his life, "it had been a very, very long time since I had a real reason to live and then I found you," he admitted.

"But that's what you do when you love someone right? You're there for them no matter what," he kissed her hair, "I hope I can help to make you less sad for longer."

"That's a lot of pressure," she replied. She understood that her own estimation of her worth was below the truth. But she was still only one person. There was another important factor. "Plus, I have to die eventually. Not for a long time, but someday." He didn't like to hear it, she knew, but that didn't make it any less true. He was always going to outlive her by generations.

"Maybe," she replied. She sighed. "I think I have to be sad though," she continued, "Not forever, but the only way to heal from what happened to me back then is to feel it. And it was sad. I think it’s okay for me to be sad about it."

Warren hummed considering her words, “It shouldn’t be… I chose that because I love you and I care and it doesn’t mean you have to do anything to keep that status or do anything for my sake,” he added not wanting her to feel pressured in any way. His expression got more serious when she talked about her imminent death, “I try very hard not to think about that, baby girl, it makes me feel like I can’t breathe when I do,” he confessed swallowing hard to keep himself from telling her that he didn’t plan to outlive her for long.

She was right and he knew it, He didn’t like it but he understood why she needed to cross that bridge even if It hurt, “yeah but that doesn’t mean you have to endure it alone… I’ll always be here to help in any way I can,” he promised pressing his lips against her forehead, “is there any particular reason why you tried to test yourself today?” he asked curiously.

She swallowed. It felt like a pedestal, like a place she could fall from. More importantly though, it didn't sound like a full life. She wanted him to have a full, happy life. Maya licked her lips, not sure how to express her concern properly. "I just want you to be happy," was all she settled on saying.  As far as the fact she would die, she swallowed again. She knew that he didn't like to talk about it, that it made him upset. But she had lived a life where ignoring things that made one upset just meant one was unprepared for them. For her, it didn't seem soon, but time probably worked differently when you lived forever. "Doesn't change that it’s going to happen," she said, voice half muffled into his neck, "And I want to know you'll be taken care of after."

It felt like something that maybe she should go through alone. It was her problem, her brokenness. She should be the one to fix it. Maybe that was her old way of thinking though. Yes, she needed to stand on her own two, metaphorical, feet, but that didn't mean she couldn't lean on someone. Maya turned her face further into the safety of his embrace. It took her a moment to answer his actual question. "You were gone," she admitted, "Sebastian asked me to be his best man and I thought maybe if I started now, I could have my shit together by their actual wedding. And then..." She trailed off, shaking her head. It was silly. Sure, she had thought maybe, if they ever got married, possibly, she would like to wear a dress that day without worrying about it. But that was a passing fancy, an imaginary thing she didn't really expect.

He smiled a little top her words, “You make me happy, Maya. Happier than I’ve ever been and you don’t even have to try,” he assured caressing her back. When she insisted his expression turned a little darker than he’d like. He didn’t want her to know but he was not gonna lie either, “I refuse to live in a world without you, sugar and by the time that happens, I’ve had already lived all that I need to,” he said simply cause he knew in this trip it would be just them. No family left behind cause he could never give her that and she might not even want it.

Warren hummed for her to continue, and it suddenly clicked. It hadn’t been an idea that came solely from her desire to conquer that fear. It was somehow the pressure she felt not to disappoint someone who was important to her, “the hunter is marrying the wolf,” he pointed with a small smile, “I can’t say it surprises me or that he chose you to be his best man but I’m very sure he won’t judge you if you decide to rock suit pants instead of a dress,” he said softly before kissing her forehead, “can we make a deal?” he asked waiting for her to look at him, “whenever you want to try to face those fears and demons, let me know. I won’t be there if you don’t want me to, but I’ll be near enough if you need me…. But most importantly, how about you do it for your own benefit?” he asked with a sad expression, “not to please me or anyone else. I don’t care if you never wear a dress and I’m sure Sebastian doesn’t care either. We just want you to feel comfortable and happy. To be yourself.”

"I'm not the only thing that makes you happy though," she replied, "Like the ducks." A frown creased her brow as his next words. It took her a moment to think through them, to ensure she wasn't reading something into them that wasn't there. Pulling back to look at him properly, Maya shook her head. "No," she said, "It doesn't work like that, no." She shook her head again, "Unless you became mortal somehow, that would be..." Now it was getting hard for her breathe. "No," she said again.

She settled back into the comfort of his embrace. Her death, she knows believed, was a long way off. More pressing was her current predicament. "I know," she said, a little emphatically. Maya didn't want to give the impression Sebastian had done anything to pressure her. It had seemed like a good goal, a thing to work towards. Looking at him, she shook her head. "That's the thing. It is for me. If I'm going to be part of these big celebrations, I don't want to have this be part of it anymore. I don't want him to have any power over me when I'm celebrating. Maybe I'll end up in a suit, but I want the choice. I don't want to be afraid anymore."

Warren chuckled when she mentioned the ducks even if his smile turned sad when he remembered his sibling. Gilmore had been the closest to a best friend and he missed every day, but he understood the reasons of their departure and Maya probably didn’t know how much he could see himself on Gilmore. How he would turn exactly like death if he lost her the way Gil had lost Uriel. Life had always been meaningless for them. They were create like that and suddenly Uriel, Barachiel and Maya came along to change it all. What does someone without purpose do when they find it and lose it again? Living doesn’t seem appealing anymore and he imagined Maya wouldn’t see it like that, “Shhhh. Let’s not go there, ok? I promise to look for ways for me to turn mortal if it soothes your mind,” he promised trying to smile even if he had tried it before when he and Barachiel had tried to bear a child. He knew it was impossible, but she didn’t need to know.

It took a moment for him to understand until she explained why she was doing it for her and no one else. Fear was something he had experienced just a handful of times and it had never been for himself so it was still a little foreign for him but he did understood that she wanted to have the options, that she wanted to have the control to decide without a ghost haunting her, “ok, is there anything I can do to help?” he asked feeling lost on how he could make this whole traumatic experience better for her, desperate to know how to help her cross that bridge.

Maya could admit she didn't hate the idea of growing old with Warren. It wasn't possible, of course, at least not to her knowledge. "You don't have to do that," she replied, "It's just..." She sighed and shook her head. She didn't like the idea of him being that unhappy, of being the cause of so much pain. But that was the bitch of it. They were always going to be separated, eventually. Her whole life though had been defined by living in the after. She had to keep on living after the death of her parents. There wasn't anything for it, but to do your best to keep living. After a moment, she added, "I love you."

She didn't like the silence that followed. There were things about her past she knew weren't easy to understand, not unless you had been through it too. And luckily, Warren hadn't been through it. As far as help though, she shrugged at his question. It was nice to have him here, but she didn't think she could always have him around. "Don't be mad," she offered. She swallowed, remembering not how he had treated her, but how she had been treated before. "I know it makes me difficult and bad at taking care of myself, but I'm trying. I promise, I'm trying," she said.

He offered her a smile, a real one this time, “Maya, do you really think, after all this time together that I do things, I don’t want to do?” he asked before pressing his lips to hers in a very soft kiss. A reassuring one. The smile got bigger and brighter at her words, “And I love you. Very, very much,” he added for good measure.

“I could never be mad at you,” he frowned a bit when he realized that maybe she thought he had gotten mad and that was the reason why he came back earlier, “I’m not mad at you, sugar. I worry because you’re very important to me and I just want to…” he trailed off unsure how to explain it without her feeling pressured like before, “I know I can be a little overprotective and that’s only because I love you and sometimes I don’t know what to do with that,” he shrugged, “It just comes in a package I guess, the loving caring and getting worried about the one you love,” he explained lamely. He shook his head, “you’re not difficult and trust me, I know you’re trying cause I can see it… when you lost your memories you reminded me how things were before we got together, and it made me realized how much you’ve changed in so little time. Love does that. And friends, and happiness so when I got you back I promised myself to keep making you happy so you could keep on turning into a happier you.”

She didn't think he did things he didn't want to do. But he always said yes to her. There was no way he wanted to do everything she asked. Was there? Maya let him kiss her softly and did her best to smile back. She tried to draw the line between her past and her present. People in her past were not Warren and Warren was not one of the people from her past. She couldn't use that to go on.

Her eyes watched him as he spoke. That he could never be mad at her she didn't believe. There had to be something. But she could believe he wasn't angry with her now. "I am sorry though," she said after he had finished, "I shouldn't have snapped at you and hung up. I just..." She licked her lips. "I don't lie. I'm not a liar," she insisted. It was an old wound, one that felt especially tender at the moment. She was difficult. Maya knew that, even if he claimed she wasn't. Her past had left scars on her that still affected her and their relationship. "I sounded like I was 15 again, I could hear it."

“I’m sorry too… I pushed too far,” he said with regret cause he knew he should have stopped, “I know you’re not a liar. I didn’t mean that you were a liar. I just knew you were keeping something form me and it scared me,” he admitted, “I should have listened and waited until you were ready to tell me how you were feeling,” he was aware of his mistake. “Is that how you sounded when you were that age?” he asked trying to change the direction to wanting to know more about her young self than about the call that had made her think he might be upset with her, “sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had found you sooner… I have the feeling that you wouldn’t have liked me very much,” he tried to joke.

"I didn't want to keep it from you. I just felt stupid, being so upset over a piece of fabric. He can't hurt me anymore," she confessed. She shouldn't have called, she had settled on. If she had just kept this to herself, it wouldn't have hurt anyone.

At his question, Maya laughed and shook her head. "Worse," she replied, "I probably would've told you to go fuck yourself." As far as whether or not she would've liked him back then, she shrugged. "I didn't like much of anyone back then," she said. Well, she had liked people, she was just so afraid of getting hurt that she had pushed them away. "I probably would've tried to hit on you. I spent a lot of time in dive bars back then, letting men who were too old for me have whatever they wanted from me," she said. As she spoke, she settled against his chest again. She should probably get dressed or maybe try to finish the sandwich. But mostly she felt sad as she remembered who she had been at fifteen.

“It’s not stupid… but you know what? I am glad you called cause that’s a step in the right direction of what we have. You called instead of just keep it from me and torture yourself on your own,” and it might not have gone in the best direction but every single time Maya reached out to him when she needed him was a good sign of her trust in him.

Warren hummed and wrapped his arms tighter around her, “yeah and I would’ve laughed until that,” he sighed, “you would’ve hated me for rejecting your advances and for punching whoever wanted to take advantage of you,” he said a bit more serious, “I’m ashamed to admit that I was not always like that. I did things I regret deeply. I once took advantage of innocence and it pains me that I had to experience it myself to understand… or at least experience the intentions of someone trying to take advantage of me because they had no idea what I was… after that I never let anyone hurt someone like that again when I was around,” it was something he hadn’t told her about yet. How he was guilty of the same crimes those monsters she ran from. He had changed but he knew others wouldn’t and some would never change.

"I knew hearing your voice would make me feel better," she said.

Maya laughed, the sound hollow and a little bitter. "Just for the second part. It wasn't like I never got rejected back then, just less than I should've," she said. She sighed, "I would've argued I wasn't being taken advantage of, not when I was giving it away. I did make that argument a couple of times." She wasn't proud of it. But it was part of who she was. She understood now that she had only wanted someone to want her, that she was seeking the only validation she had been successful in finding.

When he talked about his past, she listened. It wasn't something he had talked much about, and she wouldn't call it pleasant to hear. She couldn't blame him though. The world had been different then. "When you were a woman?" she asked. When he had experienced it himself, he had changed. Wasn't that all she could ask?

"And yet I fucked up and made you feel worse," his expression fell when he realized he had failed to comfort her as he should've.

Warren wasn't surprised of how Maya used to think about herself and what she did back then, "you were young and hurting, it makes sense you didn't think it through but they should have," he said trying not to get upset about something he couldn't change.

He nodded, "it was actually a little before that. It started when I saw her. She was a body slave, but she never really gave up. I decided I was gonna make her strong and make them pay for what they did to her," he shared something he had never told anyone. "The first night I took upon her, the guards came to the chamber. They thought it was gonna be easy because they had done it before," his eyes flashed that orange light for just a second. "She was still there. I was just adjusting so I could feel her fear and disgust, but she was fierce and wasn't about to back down. Everyone in that villa died. Everyone but all the slaves and that's how I started my army being the first woman ruling and conquering." Those details weren't in any book in history, but Warren remembered all too well.

"It wasn't your fault. You were just trying to help," she replied.

Maya's smile didn't quite reach her eyes when he told her that it made sense she had acted as she had. "It wasn't all bad, you know? I mean, if you had wanted to start throwing punches Officer Baer would've helped. He got into a few bar fights because of me," a more genuine smile curled her lips. "He's who found me the night my parents died," she explained, "I was so mean to him back then. He was just trying to keep me safe, as much as he could."

It wasn't often that Warren shared about his past. Now Maya soaked in every detail. "I like her already," she said when he described his former vessel. It should upset her, maybe, to hear that he had killed a whole villa. But she knew that for some people violence was the only language they understood. Although she had denied herself revenge for many years, she'd never been afraid to fight on behalf of people who needed her help. "How long was she your vessel?" she asked.

Warren didn't argue when she said he just wanted to help cause it was true. He did wanted to make it better but it all backfired.

"You mentioned him before. Did you ever reach out again? I think I like him," he smiled making a mental note to find that man and find a way to repay what he had done to protect Maya in her younger years.

Warren smiled a bit, "She was formidable before I took upon her. I wanted a better future for her," he sighed sadly, "I only had her for 13 years... during that time I met Barachiel, and I lowered my guard. She's the vessel I lost when they took my ring and tried to kill me," he swallowed hard.

Maya shook her head. "At first I couldn't think about any of it for long. Then I felt so ashamed for how I was turning out. And now...?" She sighed. "I mean how could I apologize for turning my back on him? He probably hates me." She truly believes her words. While Spencer Baer might understand why she had done what she had, she didn't expect him to forgive her for how she had treated him.

She nodded. The part about Barachiel she remembered. "Are you afraid of that happening again?" she asked, "Of someone trying to kill this vessel?"

Warren nodded because it sounded like something Maya had been dealing with all her life. The guilt of pushing people away was something she had been dealing with for a long time, "You don't know that, sugar. Some people might surprise you," he smiled trying to encourage her, "would you ever want to know how he's doing?" He asked curiously.

It took him a moment to answer because he wasn't sure, "I've become smarter after that. Never letting anyone get too close but it's different with you. Loving you doesn't make me feel weak," he admitted.

She curled against him tighter, making herself smaller. Maybe people could surprise her. But after her grandparents, she was afraid. A rush of air escaped her. "Of course," she said, "Of course I want to know how he is, but...I mean, it's been so long, and I was so mean."

She smiled against his neck. "Good, I don't want to make you feel weak," Maya said. For a moment, she was quiet, thinking and digesting all they had talked about. "How many vessels have you had?" she asked.

He kept his arms around her as she shrunk against him, "I can do some research and find out how he's doing and get you a way to contact him when you feel ready," he offered because he knew deep down, one day, Maya would want to thank him for what he did for her.

"You don't. It's different with you. You make me feel less of a monster. Like I deserve a chance for happiness," he smiled. He hummed before answering, "only four. Nike was the one I had before this one. I've had this one ever since," he smiled remembering how different his vessel looked when he first chose him, "he had dreadlocks when I picked him," he grinned.

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Sometimes, she would read her hometown newspaper to see what he was up to, but so far it had yet to be successful. Once she had tried to Google him. He'd never been one for social media. Maya wanted to know if he was okay. And just because she could contact him didn't mean she had to. After a long moment, she nodded, "Yeah, yeah that'd be nice." She swallowed, "I'm just...I'm scared, you know? I was so shit when I met my grandparents."

She sighed, the tightness in her chest relaxing. She was glad that she made him feel worthy. "You do the same for me," she said. Although, today might not suggest that. Maya nodded as he told her more about his past. Four seemed like a low number, but she knew that was hard to kill. It was a fact she took comfort in on darker nights. Her nose scrunched though when Warren revealed that his current vessel used to have dreadlocks. "It was a good call to get rid of them," she said, "I like you like this."

Warren definitively understood that, "well I know one thing tho, he cared about you and he wanted to help. Your grandparents didn't. They were selfish and didn't deserve having you in their lives. This official wanted the best for you, and I have a good feeling that he'll be happy to see you're happy now," maybe one day when she felt ready they could visit him.

"I guess that's why we work. We're good for each other," he smiled truly believing it. He laughed at his reaction, "it was customary for his people. He was from the East of the Rhine. Now Germany. All warriors there used dreadlocks and he was a gladiator, so I kept them for a while," he smiled, "I do like my hair like this better and it makes me happy that you do too."

"Yeah, maybe..." she swallowed, face heating up with embarrassment. She did her best to bury her face more into his chest. "Maybe you could ask though. If you find him, you could ask if he wants to see me again," she said, "Or if I hurt him too bad."

She smiled back, coming out from hiding a bit more. She liked that. He was good for her. Maya knew that for certain. But she worried at times that she wasn't good for him, especially times like now where he had to skip out on business because of her. As for his dreadlocks, she sat up a little straighter, trying to imagine him with dreadlocks. Her nose stayed scrunched. "There's no accounting for fashion I guess," she said. Running her fingers through his hair, she sighed. "I should probably get dressed," she said, "Maybe try to eat again." She wasn't hungry, but she knew that she should eat, and she was unlikely to feel hungry for a while.

Warren rubbed her back when she hid her face further against his chest, “I can definitively do that, yes,” he agreed knowing it was something he could arrange. He’d feel a lot better to contact him now that Maya had asked him to, “I’ll reach out and let him know you’re ok and that you’d like to talk to him if he’s ok with it,” Warren was sure he’d say yes.

Her comment made him laugh again, “I was wearing a subligaculum, a manicae, dreadlocks and the blood of my enemies so I don’t think fashion was a thing back then,” he smiled a bit… it’s a shame there are no pictures but I have an old painting, I’ll show it to you one day,” he wondered what Maya would think of how he looked back then. He nodded, “I can make you something while you put on something warmer,” he offered, “I probably should change too,” he smiled, “wanna help me get rid of these boring clothes?” he asked in a teasing tone cause he actually loved wearing suits.

"Thank you," she said softly. She wasn't so sure that Officer Baer would want to see her. After all, she had turned her back on everyone from her hometown. In her anger and her hurt, she had been cruel to him in a way she knew even then that he didn't deserve.

"You know I don't know what half of those mean," she replied. She smiled at the prospect of seeing even an old painting of him. "I'd like that," she said.

As far as his offer, Maya glanced over at her sandwich. "I'd made myself something. I was trying to be good," she said. Whatever Warren made would be better though, she knew that. She made a face at his second request. She teased, "That seems like a dangerous proposition. I'm liable to get distracted." Even as she said it, she sat up properly in order to untie his tie. It was a graceful, practiced motion. By now, she had taken off his tie so many times. It was almost comforting in its familiarity.

He smiled to her and pecked her lips, “You’re very welcome, sugar,” he relaxed when she seemed a bit less stressed.

She had a point and he chuckled when she said it like that, “ok uhm a subligaculum is just some kind of clothe I used to cover my junk and the manicae was some kind of protection for my arm made of metal… I didn0t have a full armor at first, that’s why I got that scar on my chest,” he explained, “I looked hot,” he joked.

“I noticed and I’m glad but if you’re tired, I love cooking for you so I could take upon the kitchen for tonight,” he offered again, “we could also order something in case you want me undivided attention,” he smirked. “I’ll keep you focused,” he promised sighing when her fingers undid his tie expectedly, “I like it when you help me undress,” he admitted.

Her fingers brushed over his scar at its mention. Her heart couldn't help but clench at the idea of him so under protected. Of course, she had seen him fight at fight club with less. But no one was armed at fight club. "You always look hot," she replied.

"I'm not hungry," she admitted. She then added, "But I know I should eat. It’s been awhile." She had eaten before she had tried on the dress and Maya wasn't entirely sure how long ago that had been. Once it was untied, her slender and calloused fingers played with the smooth silk of his tie. While she felt a bit better, those old ways of thinking and behaving lurked just below the surface. "Do you want to have sex?" she asked, "We can have sex if you want."  She was straddling him now, the position more comfortable for helping him undress. Her green eyes darted up to meet his and there was a flash of hesitancy in them.

“Thanks, though I think you’re a little biased,” he chuckled, “but I like it that you think so,” he winked.

He was glad she was aware that she needed to eat even if she wasn’t hungry, “I don’t think I’ve ever asked about what kind of comfort food you prefer,” he said with a small frown, trying to remember if she had ever mentioned it. That was a tricky question because he knew she relied on sex to feel better, but he didn’t want her to feel used. He never wanted to make her feel like that. “You know I always want you, I can’t deny that, but now, I think it’s better if we get comfortable and you let me hold you for a little while,” he cupped her face with both hands and looked at her in the eyes, “sex is not everything when I’m with you,” he assured.

Maya considered for a moment. She didn't really have a comfort food. Whenever she was having a hard time, she tended not to eat or to eat something simple like cereal. Once she lived in Boston, she didn't let anyone take care of her enough to have a comfort food. Before that she had tried to hide when she was upset. "I don't really have one," she replied eventually.

She let him tilt her face up to look at him. Her green eyes were soft and unsure. When he confirmed that he always wanted her, she gave a small nod. Something in her shoulders relaxed when he said that he just wanted to hold her. There was something tugging at the back of her mind, an instinct from years long past. Maya tried not to examine it too closely. "Okay," she said, nodding, "Okay." She unbuttoned his shirt before standing. Her eyes fell to the dress on the floor. She swallowed. The tension returned to her shoulders.

Warren waited for her to mention anything that might bring her some comfort. He was even tempted to ask about what she liked to eat when her parents spoiled her, but he kept himself from it and when she answered saying she didn’t have any comfort food, he smiled a bit trying not to show any negative feelings towards it, “then that only means we have a chance to explore options util you find one,” he offered.

He relaxed when she did and helped her back on her feet when she climbed off his lap and helped him take off his shirt. It didn’t go unnoticed how she tense again when she spotted the dress on the floor, “do you wanna wait for me downstairs?” he asked moving to stand between her and the offending garment, “I’ll just put on something more comfortable and join you,” he reached to tilt her face up to look at him, “you can steal another hoodie if you get cold,” he smiled cause they both knew he didn’t wear them more and the only reason why he had bought a few lately was for her.

She nodded. It still felt like she should have something, like it was a gap in her life she should fill. After licking her lips, she added, "My parents used to make me pancakes sometimes. I don't know if I was sad, but..." She licked her lips again, "It was nice."

Her eyes flicked briefly up to meet his. "Okay," she said before nodding. It felt almost like she was on autopilot. A not insignificant part of her mind was still fixated on keeping the darker thoughts from pulling her under. After another moment of staring at the dress, Maya turned away. She pulled on one of his black hoodies. It was one of the ones that actually smelled like him. She disappeared downstairs, Hermes followed closely behind her. She sat down in the kitchen, eyes darting around as if searching for some sign that the life she was living was only a dream.

Warren smiled a bit, "I could make some pancakes if you're in the mood for those," he offered unsure if she would accept or if she'd like to keep that as something she did with her parents.

It was hard to see her struggling with herself. There was something in her eyes that clearly said she wasn't ok, but he gave her some space, letting her put on his hoodie and going downstairs. He finished undressing and only put on some loose sweats and a sleeveless shirt before joining her, "coffee?" He asked softly as he moved around the kitchen.

Maya nodded. Pancakes sounded nice. On some level, she couldn't stop the thought that it didn't matter what they ate. She just needed to eat something. It was practical. She always tended towards the practical when it came to her survival mode. There hadn't been much room for anything else in her past. Things were different now though. She could let Warren take care of her. Pancakes might be a good start.

Sitting in the kitchen, she pulled her knees up to her chest as much as she could. It felt safer to make herself small. Hermes curled up on the floor beside her, unwilling to stray far from his human. Her gaze jumped to Warren as he entered the kitchen. Recognizing him immediately. she relaxed a little. "Yeah, okay," she replied, "Thanks." She swallowed, watching him move around the kitchen. It felt like she was doing the wrong thing. She shouldn't be letting him cook. It was her job. "I can cook," Maya offered, "I'm sorry, I..."

It was an old instinct, something instilled in her rather than native to her. She tried to explain, "It feels like I'm supposed to cook. It was always my job. Especially after I had a tantrum." That was how it would've been described, a tantrum. She was the problem, how she felt was the problem.

Warren smiled and easily moved in the kitchen. He knew where everything was and even tho he wasn't as great as she was when it came to cooking, he wasn't that bad either. He shook his head at her offer, "no, it's ok, I wanna do it," he assured in a soft tone as he put on the coffee machine and gathered the ingredients for the pancakes.

"You're not supposed to do anything you don't want to, sugar," he said still in a soft tone. The worse he could do right now would be sounding upset because she was probably in that mindset that she had done something wrong. He stopped what he was doing and moved close to her, his hands reaching for hers, "that wasn't a tantrum and cooking is not your job, sugar. I'm very much ok with you doing the cooking here because you enjoy it but it's not your job and right now I wanna do something nice for you. Is that ok?" He looked at her in the eyes and gave her hands a small squeeze

Her teeth bit into the inside of her bottom lip. She nodded. He didn't do things that he didn't want to she reminded herself as he started the coffee machine. As he moved closer, her eyes gauged his approached, careful and guarded. She swallowed. The idea that she wasn't supposed to do anything she didn't want to wasn't entirely foreign to her. "I'm not supposed to want things," she said. When she had moved out of her hometown, Maya had tried to only do the things she wanted. But the problem was twofold. She didn't know what she wanted, and it didn't feel like she had the right to ask for the things she knew she wanted. She had claimed it though. Even as a kid, she always said she only did what she wanted. Letting him take her hands, she rested her chin on her knee. She felt all wrong or at least mixed up. Her expectations, her reactions, they were all wrong.

While it was difficult to trust herself at the moment, she knew that she could trust Warren. She nodded. "Yeah, yeah it's okay," she said. It was okay. She was safe, she reminded herself, she was okay.

"Yes you are, Maya," he frowned this time, "you're supposed to want things and to have those things. You deserve them and that's only because you do. It doesn't matter what others had ever said. You're here to live and be happy. That's what humans were created for... at some points some found a way to use that to manipulate other making them believe they have to earn things like happiness," he sighed because he had seen it a lot. Hell! He had even used it on his advantage during wars, but it hurt now to see how deep that stupid thought was rooted into Maya's mind.

He swallowed hard, unsure of what to do to help Maya now. It didn't seem like his useless attempts were doing any good. It actually seemed the opposite. "Please look at me," he said still holding her hands, "what do you need, baby girl? What can I do?" He didn't want to make it worse for her, but he felt a little lost because she seemed stuck right then.

She blinked, eyes filling with tears. It was what she had needed someone to tell her then. She didn't have to earn happiness. Or safety. She nodded. As much as she could, she tried to internalize it. It was getting easier, in her better moments she even really believed it. She didn't know if she should say more, if she should talk about the things that had happened to her. It would hurt Warren, she knew. He was likely to blame himself for some part of it. Maya didn't say anything. She needed to get out of this mindset, be the happier version of herself she had been when he'd left for his business trip. She should be better than this.

Lifting her gaze, she felt her heart cracking at the look of concern and confusion on her face. She was hurting him. This was why she had waiting until he left. Throwing her arms around his neck, she burrowed her face in the crook of his shoulder. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't know," she said, voice broken, "I know the things I used to do to feel better are bad. But I don't know how else to fix it. I don't know."

Warren let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when she threw herself into his arms, “It’s ok,” he cooed not wanting her to get more mortified, “we’ll figure it out, we’ll do it together,” he kept his arms wrapped around her. He wished he knew what to do to make it better for her. He felt useless sometimes when it was about those kind of things. He wished he knew more of how to comfort someone, but he was feeling lost and sad for her.

“We don’t have to fix it,” he kissed her forehead, “sometimes we need to feel sad and a little raw to go through things but the catch is that you don’t have to do it alone. Not anymore,” he smiled, “we can order Chinese and watch crappy tv and just feel miserable together on the couch. I know I might be pressing you to feel better but the truth is that if you need to feel shitty and pass through it to get better, I’ll hold your hand through it and I’ll be there when you feel better and whenever you don’t, I’ll still be there,” he smiled a bit, “I want you to remember that there’s nothing that’s gonna keep me from loving you,” he promised, “We’re both broken in different ways but we work because we understand… you don’t want to change me and I don’t want to change you… we just want to make each other happy.”

She held him tightly, trying desperately not to cry. She tried too not to think about all the times she had felt like this and the reception hadn't been this gentle. Or there had been no reception at all. More often than not the no reception at all had been her own self-imposed hurt, a reaction to the times when the reception hadn't been kind. "Okay," she said, agreeing with him even if she didn't know what figuring it out together meant. Of course, everything else so far, they had figured out together.

Pulling away enough to look at him, she kept her arms around his neck. A few stray tears had escaped the corners of her eyes. "I wish you had been there," she confessed before she could think better of it. Now that she had it, she realized just how desperately she needed someone to stay with her when it got hard. Officer Baer had tried, but work and his other commitments had gotten in the way. And there were times when she had pushed hard enough that he stayed away for a while. Never forever, but for a while. She added, "I don't want you to be miserable too though."

Warren was glad she had agreed and didn't argue saying that she had to do it on her own. She used to do that a lot before but maybe now she was seeing they were a package deal now.

"I know," he said sadly, "but I'm here now and I'll be here whenever you need me," he assured. "Well but it works like that when you love someone. If you're sad, I'm sad for you and I have the feeling that it works the other way around too... when it's me dealing with something you worry and feel bad too. Love includes the good and bad days," he reached to wipe away her tears.

Maya nodded again. She felt like she had nodded a lot since he came home. That was probably good, better than fighting every second at least. "I love you," she said as he wiped her tears, "I love you so much. And there wouldn't be a hope of trying this if you weren't with me." Maya had never seriously considered it before Hollow's Creek. She moved to stand. "Couch?" She asked.

Once there she settled comfortably in his embrace. It was safe and warm there. She made a mental list of all the things that hadn't gone wrong. She wasn't drunk, she wasn't fucking a stranger who couldn't care less about her, and she wasn't in a bar fight. That was something. As messy as this was, it was better. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I know it makes you upset when I'm upset and I didn't know how much easier it would make it having you here.

Warren's expression softened at her words, "I love you too, Maya," he smiled and pressed a kiss on her forehead, "yes, couch," he agreed and tangled their fingers together to move to the couch, whistling to Hermes so he would join them.

"It's ok. I understand why you didn't and why you wanted to try it on your own," he smiled a bit, "it's part of a whole, sugar, we get to share everything together, even the not so nice parts," she had been there for him when he almost lost himself so this was the least he could do just by being there for her. "If you ever feel like trying with me around, you know I'll be here."

Maya nodded against his chest. It felt, to her, like usually the not so nice parts were her fault. She was the one falling apart. Closing her eyes briefly, she reminded herself that it wasn't a competition, no one was keeping score. She tucked he feet underneath herself. Hermes joined them, laying his head in Warren's lap. She wouldn't exactly say she was happy. However, Maya didn't feel quite so sad. She didn't really pay attention to whatever they were watching. When food arrived, she ate a little. She tried to eat, knowing that she needed to do it and it would probably help. But she still didn't feel especially hungry. Eventually, she fell asleep, chest rising and falling slowly.

Warren never imagined his life could be like this. Having Maya in his arms after that small burst out and horrible reminder of her past gave him the best feeling cause he could see now how much she really trusted him now. He immediately noticed the moment she had fallen asleep, and he couldn’t help to smile. Moments like this were the ones that reinforced how much he loved Maya and how he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He picked her up effortlessly to take her back to their bed and settled in it with her, wrapping his arms around her middle and even if he wasn’t tired at all, he fell asleep with a smile on his face cause today had proved that they could get over their past and just be happy together.

[mannequinentity]

✨

send me a ✨ and i’ll shuffle my playlist, then write a drabble based on the song that comes up

Johnny Cash - I See A Darkness

An unknown letter was sent to Irina’s apartment. When she realized how bulky the texture was, she slipped it open to an abundance of seven hundred- and fifty-thousand worth of yen dollars. Her mind broke completely from this absolute shocker. Everyone down in the street walks strolling by, minding their own business, going through the motions of everyday life. No one stood out.

Who would ever donate this amount of money to her? Certainly, no one since the friends in her social circle is dealing with their financial burdens. They don’t have the time, nor the generosity to donate to her.

 There was no one standing out in the bustling life of Tokyo. No matter how much she observes any suspicious activity, everyone is normal. She needed some time to process, or else Irina will be stuck in limbo. A part of her wants to find the donator, but her desire to keep the money for herself is overwhelming. She needed it to keep the bills paid anyways. The most important is keeping her daughter in school.

“Mommy, who’s at the door?” The daughter asked curiously from the living room, watching cartoons.

“N-No one, sweetie....” She enters back inside to close the door behind her.

There came a shadow behind the tree from the sidewalk below. Manny uncloaked from the trunk to peak through from the side. Irina took the money after all. That’s genuinely relieving.

Maybe he’ll finally stop stealing from the Yakuza from this point on, but he can’t stay here for long. They will catch him and maybe the authorities as well. He committed murderous atrocities to get the money that he needed for them. Blood stench on his scarred hands, the smell potent, and the memory of his dying victims ached in his recent memory.

Just this once...

He wanted to apologize for the sins he committed to her and their marriage. Alcohol and the cowardice to avoid medical help, he never listened to her concerns, her loving dedication to help him strand away from his demons. He failed her and his daughter. The recollections of their fights with glass shattering across the walls came clear to his vision.

There’s no compassion for himself. An apology is not enough and he’s aware of that. It’s still best to not show his face to her and his daughter. It would only result in trauma reminded again.

This dimension will be plagued soon by those entities again. Not only he has to worry about the Yakuza and police, but the afterlife themselves take no kindly to puppets who betrayed their realm. He is, after all, being hunted down for a century now. it’s bittersweet in a way. Nothing has changed in his home dimension. It felt like he left for a couple of years, but really, it’s been a century while on the run from those persistent demons, hunting him down until they can torture him for eternity in the afterlife. 

Turning away from the apartment structure, he dusted his worn-out suit and made his way into an alleyway to leave this earth through a blueish-white portal he summoned.

This will be the last time he’ll see her.

Goodbye, Irina

Please lead a peaceful recovered life with our daughter.

No need for tears as it slipped past him before the portal faded into dust.

[transcowgirlslut]

it's kind of bullshit that people will react with horror to me discussing my fantasies/kinks until i clarify I'm the sub in them. like even my therapist was all like "ohhh it's ok to want to hold power so long as it's consensual" and then clearly relaxed when I clarified I wanted to be the sub.

i love you everyone and with rape kinks, those who want to roleplay kidnapping and abusing someone, i love you i love you i love you. this ain't me fishing for a dom/me to be clear---you are VALUED as a person, outside of your sexual fantasies. I care about you and appreciate you, and there is nothing wrong or bad about you!!!!

[teaboot]

When I was a kid, I regularly lost reading privileges for "having an attitude" and "acting out".

It wasn't as simple as being told not to read during other activities- one of the first times it happened, I remember being six years old, watching my stepfather pull fistfuls of books off my bookshelf and throw them to the floor in a heaping mess while I cried and asked him to stop.

It was weird. Every other adult I knew described me as exceptionally well-behaved, but at home, it was the opposite, and it was blamed on "learning bad habits from that shit you're reading".

Because I couldn't read at home, I spent all my free time at school in the library, reading with my friends.

When I grew up and moved away, I realized that my family life was toxic and abusive, and the "attitudes" I was being punished for were standing up for myself, standing up for my younger siblings, and resisting actual, real-life psychological abuse. Because I'd learned from what I'd read that my family wasn't normal, not like my parents said it was, and in my stories, the heroes were the people who spoke out when it was hard to.

It is insane to me that there are students right now who can't access books. It is insane that books are being outlawed. It is perverse that we are stealing away an entire generation's ability to contextualize their lives, to learn about the world around them, to develop critical thinking skills and express themselves and feel connected to the world or escape from it, whatever and whenever and however they need.

That is not how you raise a compassionate, thoughtful, powerful society.

That's how you process cattle.

It's fucking disgusting.

[sin-esthezia]

the thing that gets me the most about ableism against pd’s is that ppl will be like “these disorders make you an ASSHOLE!!!!” and then turn around and pretend that other disorders can’t and don’t make you act shitty.

depression and anxiety can make you irritable and snappy. they can cause you to refuse to listen to people and to be distant and withdrawn. they can cause you to seem angry, bitchy, rude, uncaring, etc.

ptsd causes an array of difficulties in forming meaningful relationships. it pretty much shakes up your entire worldview and sense of self a lot of the time. ptsd can cause you to get angry often. it can cause you to yell and scream. it can cause you to withdraw from others, run away, or cut them out. it can cause general changes in demeanor and more cynical worldviews. it can make you seem grouchy, negative, explosive, impolite, difficult, needy, controlling, etc.

and yet when people with personality disorders have symptoms of that nature, suddenly we are irredeemable monsters. when it’s npd, bpd, hpd, or aspd instead of ptsd or depression and anxiety, people suddenly and magically lose the ability to be understanding.

mental illness is an explanation, not an excuse. i firmly believe that. hurting others is never justified simply because you have any disorder.

but if you can be patient with people who have depression, anxiety, ptsd, ocd, or any other more well understood mental illness, you can be patient with us.

[uncanny-tranny]

"Treatment" for addiction that requires you to lock up, confine, coerce, or otherwise strip addicts of their autonomy, it isn't treatment. It is a revenge fantasy that prioritizes your desire for subjugation over the actual betterment of addicts.

[lostmf]

I’m not sure I deserve it ..

[nerdpoe]

Young Justice is always a little...concerned. With Phantom's living situation. Now they're outright afraid for him, and Bart has decided it's time to Ask An Adult.

It was the little quips. The tiny little things. Stuff that didn't seem to matter to Phantom at all, or appeared to be normal for him, that he didn't realize weren't normal at all.

"Oh, better not hope my mom catches me." "Doing what, staying out past bedtime?" "Nah, using my powers; she'd vivisect me!"

"Another stab wound. Great." "Don't worry Phantom, I've got the med kit-" "Oh, I'm not a baby or anything, I can handle it just fine. Just gimme a sec to take it out."

"My dad has better aim than that." "...Like, when he's hunting, right?" "...At what other times would he be shooting at me?"

"Huh. Not as bad as my parents place. Look; they have a decontamination shower!" "Phantom, this lab has been vandalized to the point of needing a hazmat suit." "Did I stutter?"

Finding out each others identities did nothing to soothe the worry. Tim quietly told the others that every time he tried to run facial recognition, he kept hitting a government firewall he couldn't breach. Phantom never told them his last name, just his first, and 'Danny' is super common.

The thing that really did it though, the thing that made Bart snap and run off to ask Max, was when Danny had a nightmare.

He was talking in his sleep.

"No. Don't-stop. Stoooop. I need...my skin. Mom, no. You can't...peel off...my skin..."

Bart didn't even wait for them to wake Danny up before he was standing in front of Max, talking a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what to do, with Wally staring in horror over a plate of waffles as he computed everything that Bart was saying.

~~~~~~

Danny had a dream about his mom and Skulker arguing about how to skin him. He wouldn't really call it a nightmare, because it was just Skulker, but the scariest thing was Skulker insisting to his mom that it was possible to skin him with a potato peeler. Dream mom was arguing that it was not, and that from a scientific standpoint that was a really piss poor way to preserve a specimen.

He hadn't been begging them to stop hurting him, he'd been whining at them to knock it off.

But when he wakes up, it's to a room full of worried friends and an old man who calls himself Max.

"Kid, I think we need to talk."

[cccat-in-a-meat-sack]

me, with both:...

[intersectionalpraxis]

Links that OP also provided: Campaign for Uyghurs Speak Up For The Uyghurs (Carrd) Save Uyghur (Companies Linked to Uyghur Forced Labour) The Coalition to End Forced Labour in the Uyghur Region

There is mass systematic sexual violence being committed against Ugyhur women in these concentration camps as a 'torture tactic'-I have read horrifying reports and details about their many experiences -being violated over and over again and it's just horrifying -these accounts are something I will never forget reading about because it is truly despicable what has been done to them. And the fact that the Chinese government STILL refuses to acknowledge what they have done -and deny these 'allegations,' I hope more people learn about what has been happening in these camps where a genocide is occurring against Uyghur people.

Here are some more links to some articles for folks to look into this and with some more information about what has been happening:

“Break Their Lineage, Break Their Roots”- China’s Crimes against Humanity Targeting Uyghurs and Other Turkic Muslims

China Uses Rape as Torture Tactic Against Uighur Detainees, Victims Say

Abortions, IUDs and sexual humiliation: Muslim women who fled China for Kazakhstan recount ordeals

[warrenwilkinson]

Into The Darkness

TIME: August 15th, 2022 PLACE: Hollow’s Creek Forest BETWEEN: Erik ( @erikdragon ) & Warren NOTES: Written on Discord.

Erik didn't question when Warren said he needed him. Not even when he called him Dragon with a low voice that sent shivers down his spine. He just got the location and jumped off his cliff, emerging as a golden dragon and flapping his wings with urgency.

It didn't take him long to find him, Warren's energy was like a beacon, far stronger and angrier than usual. He shifted back onto two legs when he approached the man, as careful as if he was approaching a wild animal. The blood didn't scare him, he was much more worried about Warren's mental state. "Hey... buddy" he tried, biting his tongue not to call him Worry "I guess I'm late to the party"

War smirked when he felt the dragon’s energy approaching, suddenly regretting already killing Walden. Burning him alive now sounded like so much fun…

He growled low in his chest when Erik entered the cave. His orange gleaming eyes taking a minute to focus on the dragon’s humanoid form, “It was my party,” he stated still in that low hollow voice that wasn’t quite Warren’s but his true self’s as his eyes turned back to the bloody mess, “he was mine to kill,” he added as he nudge a piece of flesh with his foot, “it didn’t last enough,” it sounded like a childish complain but then he looked back to Erik, “The wolves and vampires will smell the blood… I need your help to get rid of it,” he grinned, “he should be less than ashes…”

Warren looked like a psychopath, and if Erik didn't know his nature he'd have run for his life. "You did a- uh an excellent job. Tearing him to pieces, very classy" the dragon said stepping closer, still uncertain if Warren could still lash off. "I'll set it up, no problem. How are you feeling though?"

The horseman almost beamed when the dragon praised his work. It was a shame he didn’t have his old weapons. He could have made a whole show of it so everyone who see the rest of that man would know what would happen to anyone trying to hurt his girl. “He deserved the worse death,” he pointed taking a step back, giving Erik more space as he tilted his head, curious and disturbingly interested in watching the pieces set alight. “He hurt her… he came to hurt her again,” he suddenly said not explaining more.

"I see it" he waved at the pieces spread around the bloody scenery. "Hurt her? Hurt wh-" but he cut himself off when realization dawned on him "Maya" Erik answered himself "How many archenemies does that girl have?" He tried to joke, but his jaw was tight. Suddenly he didn't feel so sorry about this shredded man "That doesn't answer me though. How are you feeling, Warren?"

“Warren is not here,” the hollow voice was back, and the gleam in his eyes got more intense, “He wanted to make it fast and go back to her…” he laughed and shook his head, “We couldn’t let him die easy… he had to suffer… he had to know and feel the fear and pain he caused,” that came almost in a growl. “He hurt others… he abused innocents,” he spited to the ground, “he was the lowest scum and he had to be punished.” His head tilted again, “Ones less now,” he smirked licking his lips, watching the flesh start to burn, “No one will hurt her again. We won’t let them.”

And then he understood. So, this was the capital w War, he seemed more of a douche than the dragon imagined. With a look around the room, Erik moved his hands, making them glow gold. The puddles of blood started to boil and one by one the pieces of human flesh caught on fire, starting by the smallest pieces. "You don't have to reason it, buddy, I get it" he clicked his tongue "Don't you want to go back to her though?" Erik asked, searching for his eyes. He added once he got War to look at him "Don't you want to go back to Maya?"

War shook his head, “Not until it’s done,” but as soon as the dragon said her name, the horseman blinked a few times, frowning as if he was trying to focus on something, “Maya,” he said in a whisper, “she is safe now,” the orange gleam softening enough for the green irises to be visible, “She cannot know,” he blinked again looking at his bloodstained hands but the way the burning flesh crackled made him look back at the scattered pieces of meat, “You can’t tell her about this,” the voice now more leveled. It sounded like the horseman was stuck between his true self and his more civilized side.

Erik hung in that glimpse of Warren when he mentioned the girl "Yes, Maya. She's your girlfriend now, right?" He smiled as the dismembered torso of the man lit up on flames "I knew you loved her from the first day, when I told you she wasn't to be played with. Do you remember that?" The dragon pulled, trying to find his friend in the middle of all that anger and violence. "She won't" Erik assured him "I won't tell."

The horseman closed his eyes and shook his head a little, like if he was trying to get rid of the fog in his head, “She is mine,” he added pressing a bloodied hand over his temple, “I remember,” his green eyes turning to Erik’s figure, “You said she was out of limits,” his tone still tense but sounding more human like now. It took him a moment to add, “She’ll hate me… if she ever finds out what I am, she’ll hate me,” there was sorrow in his eyes, but there was also a glimpse of fear.

Erik couldn't help the tiny knowing smile that appeared on his lips. It was the very same reaction he had the first time Jason mentioned Seth finding someone else. The feeling of belonging takes roots that go much deeper than they think. "I did. You were never good at listening to me" he mused, noticing the orange glow thankfully leave his features as the last of the carcass burnt to a crisp "She knows you already. You're not only this, Warren." Erik sighed "She loves you, you dumbass. Give it a little credit."

He arched a brow, “You can’t tell me what to do,” he said seriously remembering that he had told him it was funny a dragon was trying to order him around. Warren shook his head and finally noticed the blood on his hands and clothes, “She doesn’t know,” he swallowed hard, “If she knew I once did what he did, she would be disgusted… she will hate me,” he took a step back, away from Erik, “She is going to hate me if I ever tell her the monster I was… that it’s still here,” he rubbed his chest mind absently.

Erik had to bite his lip not to laugh, half-drunk-with-power Warren sounded a lot like a child coming out of a temper tantrum. "I get that now" he said instead. There was a deep sigh when he spoke, the last flame vanishing "You've lived since forever, Warren. Times were different, people were different. Back in my days women didn't vote and people sacrificed virgins for me - and that was normal. She can't be mad because now everyone's vegan and you ate burgers when dinosaurs were around"

He hummed pleased that the dragon seemed to understand that he couldn’t be ordered around. Maybe just one person had that power over him, but Erik didn’t need to know that. Warren’s attention returned to the ashes when the flames had consumed the rests of James Walden but as soon as Erik spoke, he looked back at him, still struggling to get out of the trance that had taken over him, “that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowned, “I don’t think what I did can compare… she will see me like a monster… just like him.”

"It makes perfect sense" Erik said with a raised eyebrow, as if pointing out that Warren was not in the clearest of minds to understand. "I ate people, Warren. Whole. In one bite. And an angel of the lord still loves me" he said reaching out to pat his shoulder supportively "You should trust... whatever you have is stronger than this."

Warren huffed and crossed his arm over his chest, “It doesn’t,” he insisted and shook his head. The fog still there, making it hard for him to focus properly. “Did you eat an angel?” he asked wanting to keep making his point. He knew Erik had killed or tricked angels but that was not comparable to the damage War had done to women before they were one themselves. He kept quiet for a moment but then he finally said something he had never said before, “I’m scared… las time I lost someone I loved it was bad and he didn’t make me feel like Maya does… I don’t want to lose her,” he admitted with a dark expression.

Erik rolled his eyes, getting slightly annoyed at the childish tantrum now. "I've killed a few with my bare hands. I keep their blades in my lair, Seth has seen them" he pointed out "You can keep coming up with reasons for your relationship to fall apart, Warren, but that doesn't change the fact that Maya loves you." The dragon said, sure he was right. "Is that what you're so scared of?"

Erik sighed at the confession, pulling the man for a hug, completely ignoring the blood that drenched his clothes. Spoiled children need hugs sometimes. "You should tell her that."

“And he didn’t care you murdered his siblings?” he asked incredulously cause he knew angels were vengeful. This Seth angel didn’t sound like the ones he had met. He looked back at Erik with wide eyes at his words, “You don’t know that… she hadn’t said that she feels like that for me,” he said sounding pathetically small for his like.

He tensed at the hug, his old self not used to the physical contact as much as his more civilized side so he didn’t hug him back, “It’s not a good time yet… it’s complicated,” he said knowing that with Maya’s trust issues, telling her he loved her could make her feel pressured and eventually push her away from him.

He turned around when he noticed an unfamiliar energy nearby, “We have to go… the vampires smelled the burning blood. They’re coming,” he warned with the void tone again, his eyes back to the orange gleam when the sense of an upcoming fight hit him, “Go back to your angel,” he said with a nod, “Thank you,” he reached to offer his hand like warriors did in the old days, to hold each other from the forearms in a brotherly shake, “I won’t forget what you did for me,” he promised with a dangerous smirk.

Erik shrugged "It was a long time ago, that person isn't who I am anymore. And I doubt you'd do what you did now, so. My point stands."

The dragon nodded with a sigh, pulling back. He didn't question it, he knew how hard that stage was, but still he was convinced they'd make it through. Erik held Warren's forearm firmly for a moment, nodding at his words and shivering at the promise. It sounded almost like a threat. He half wanted to ask him to forget it. "Alright. Call me in the morning when you're sober. And take care, Warren." And with that Erik let go of him, leaving from where he came, turning into a dragon with ease.

And now to explain to Seth why he got home with blood all over his clothes.

[thunderc1an]

red fur.

[waywardsunlight]

The Owl House is the journey of a neurodivergent girl dealing with grief and the guilt that society has placed on her, finding people who accept and understand her for who she is through exploring a fantasy world like the one in the book her dad left her before he died, and conversely, it’s a story about a child abuser getting wrecked because he wants the approval of a messed up, extinct society so much that he’d rather live in a fantasy where he won than try to understand somebody he loved.