#mention of domestic abuse tw

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Someone Always Gets Hurt

Fandom: The Killing, Stephen Holder

Summary: It was only supposed to be a friends-with-benefits arrangement between you and Holder, but when one of you develops real feelings, things get complicated.

Word Count: 4591

TW: Friends with Benefits (FWB), mention of domestic abuse, mentions of drugs and addiction

You thought it was the perfect arrangement. You thought no one would get hurt. You should have known better. Because in these situations, someone always gets hurt.

When Holder had first suggested a friends with benefits arrangement, you thought he was joking. The two of you had been partners back when he was part of the Narcotics Department. You were the one who discovered he had gotten hooked on meth and helped him as he struggled to get clean. And even once he was promoted to the Homicide Division, you still remained close friends, best friends. But you had never imagined taking your relationship to a physical level. However, as Holder pointed out, neither one of you had time for a real relationship at the moment and sometimes you just needed someone to help you take the edge off.

So, one thing led to another and soon the once-in-a-blue-moon rendezvouses turned into a once, if not twice, a week occurrence. Sometimes you would meet at his place, sometimes at yours. A few times, you even snuck into his office when he was working late. Linden had walked in once, and you hadn’t been able to face her for weeks.

But once things started up, you couldn’t get enough. You were astonished by how amazing your ex-partner could make you feel in bed. Holder had never been what you would call conventionally handsome or good with the ladies. He tried, but when you had watched his attempts to win over women in the past, you always found his flirtations a bit cringy. Yet the second you were alone, a different side of Holder came out. He was still goofy and playful, but most of his bravado fell away and you saw the vulnerable, sweet man underneath. And his entire goal in the bedroom was to make you feel good. You had never been with a man who cared so much for your pleasure even over his. It was an intoxicating experience that the two of you continued to share over and over and over again.

And for almost six months, everything seemed perfect until one night Holder slipped up. You figured he had probably been hiding the truth for a while but for some reason, that night, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. As you were drifting off to sleep after an exhausting night of debauchery, you felt Holder snuggle up closer to you. This wasn’t out of the ordinary as Holder loved to spoon afterwards, however this embrace felt different than normal. Then, he leaned over until his lips brushed against your ear, and he softly whispered, “I love you.”

Your heart dropped out of your chest as your stomach churned. Everyone had warned you this would happen, that someone would get hurt, but you had thought, this was Holder! You never imagined he could feel that way, not about you. Slowly, you sat up and he backed away, eyes widening as he realized you were still awake.

Looking at him sadly, you started, “Holder-”

“No, no! I didn’t mean it! I was just tired. I didn’t know what I was sayin’!”

“Holder, we talked about this. This was just supposed to be a bit of fun. A way to relieve some stress. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a great guy-” Holder groaned and buried his head in his hands “-but this was never supposed to go past that. And if it has-”

“Please, please don’t say that. Shit, I’m sorry. It just…just slipped out. Come on, mama, you know it ain’t like that.”

“Holder,” you sighed as scooted off the bed and began throwing on your clothes. “I know you. And you wouldn’t have said it unless you really meant it. So, I need to just go right now, and we can talk about it later.” You headed for the bedroom door.

Holder jumped out of bed and hurriedly pulled on his boxers, almost toppling over as he hopped around, struggling to get one of his feet through the leg hole. “Wait, don’t do this. You know what we got is good. Come on! Gimme another chance!” He practically stumbled into you as you searched for your bag.

“I can’t do this-”

“Yes, you can, you just have ta try-”

You spied your bag buried in the couch. You snatched it up and headed to the front door. “You don’t understand, it’s not just-”

“Come back to bed and we’ll talk-”

“I’m seeing someone else!”

The words flew from your lips before you could stop them. Holder froze, his hand still clutched around your arm where he had been trying to coax you back to the bedroom and away from the front door that you had just opened. His face flashed a million different emotions at once as he tried to comprehend what you had just said. Finally, he mustered a single, “What?”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner, but I started seeing this guy I met.”

“How long?”

“….A little over a month.” When you saw the shock in his eyes, you tried to explain further. “We’ve just been on a few dates. We’re not exclusive or anything and we haven’t even slept together yet!”

Holder’s face crumpled into a mass of pain and betrayal. “So, that’s what this is? You been comin’ here the last few weeks, sleepin’ with me and the whole time, you’re thinkin’ of him?”

“No, that’s not-”

“He gets you all hot an’ bothered and I’m just the fix?”

“No! Never, it’s not like that! It’s just…I don’t have the same feelings for you that you do for me. If I would have known, I would have ended this a lot sooner. It was just supposed to be some uncomplicated fun. I’m so sorry.”

“Get out.” The words were icy and detached. Holder had never once spoken to you like that in all the years you knew each other and it shook you to your core.

“Stephen…. please.”

“I said get the fuck out!” He roared, a fire now lit in his eyes as he shoved your bag into your arms, causing you to stumble backwards out his open front door. Before you could try to think of anything that could make the situation better, he slammed the door in your face. As you stood there uncertain of what to do, you could hear him hurling his things violently on the other side of the door, tearing apart his peaceful dojo, his sanctuary of light he had created for himself. Destroying the one place he had felt safe since getting clean. And it was all your fault.

You knew as soon as you started seeing Glenn you should have told Holder the truth. But for some reason, you had always found some excuse not to. This time will be the last I will sleep with him. Or maybe just one more time after this. But now, everything was broken, and you weren’t sure if it could ever be fixed.

A week later, you finally got up the courage to go see Holder. Nothing had changed, you were still seeing Glenn, but you wanted to clear the air. You had tried calling him every day, always leaving long, apologetic messages begging him to call you back. But he never did. You had even tried driving by the station multiple times, but his car was never there. So, this was your last resort. Even though you didn’t love Holder in a romantic way, he had been your partner for years and a close friend for even longer. You didn’t want to lose him from your life no matter how much begging and groveling it took.

You walked to the door you had approached hundreds of times before, but this time you hesitated. You still weren’t quite sure what you were going to say to him, or if he would even let you in, but you had to try. So after timidly knocking on the door, you waited for the unknown. As you heard the lock turning, you braced yourself for his anger or his pain, but you were met with neither. Instead, you were greeted by an elderly Hispanic woman about your height.

She looked at you politely yet slightly confused. “Yes? May I help you?”

“Uh…. I’m looking for Stephen Holder? He lives here?”

The woman shook her head with a smile. “Oh, I’m sorry, but he moved out a few days ago. This is my apartment now.”

It felt as if all the wind had been forcefully sucked from your lungs. Holder was gone? ….Because of me? But no, this couldn’t be happening. He had his job, his NA meetings, hell, there was no way he would leave Liz and Davie! But the proof was right in front of you. Peering slightly around the woman, you could see everything in the apartment was different. The ratty old leather couch had been replaced by a bright, floral-patterned sofa. The dusty blinds had been covered by thick curtains. And the shelves that had been filled with books and games were now covered in pictures of who you could only assume were this lady’s grandkids. Nothing of Holder remained.

Finally, you turned back to the woman and asked, “I’m really sorry to bother you. He just forgot to tell me he was moving, I guess. You wouldn’t happen to know where he went, would you?”

“I’m afraid not. He had me forward any mail to his sister. He didn’t leave an address for himself.”

You nodded, still in shock. “Okay, thank you very much and I’m sorry again for bothering you.”

You turned to leave, but the woman stopped you. “You wouldn’t happen to be his old partner?”

You whirled around, hopefully. “I am.”

“He left something for you, in case you stopped by.” The woman shuffled back into the apartment.

After what seemed like an eternity, she returned with a small box. Slowly opening the lid, you had to hold back a sob as you saw Holder’s gold chain nestled inside. You had bought it for him for your one-year anniversary of being partners. Since that day when you had secured it around his neck, he had never taken it off. Until now.

Lifting it from the box, you noticed that the clasp had been snapped off, as if he had ripped it from his neck. It had been a sturdy hook and it must have really hurt to tear it hard enough to break it. Does he really hate me that much? You nodded a thanks to the new occupant of Holder’s apartment and began walking down the hall, wiping tears from your eyes as you went.

As you exited the building, you pulled out your phone and dialed one of the only people Holder might have told where he was going. She answered on the third ring.

“You shouldn’t be calling me.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s gone. He quit homicide five days ago. Just packed up his desk and left. He said he couldn’t stay here anymore, and he was going to try to find a job somewhere else.”

“Where is he, Linden. I know you know.”

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. He did nothing but worship the ground you walked on, and you ripped his heart out.”

“I didn’t know.”

“The hell you didn’t. If you ask me, he’s better off without you.” The line went dead. And with it went all of your hopes of finding Holder.

You knew you could go try to get it out of Liz, but as desperate as you were to find him, you knew better than to cross that line. Holder’s sister and his nephew were his whole life, but they had a very tenuous relationship after he started using drugs. They had just started getting back to a good place, and you weren’t going to do anything that might affect that reconciliation.

So, all you could do was head home and pray that, someday, you might find your best friend once again.

Time passed by, and there wasn’t a day you didn’t think about Holder. For the first month or so, you thought you saw him everywhere. You chased down a fair number of tall, hoodie wearing strangers before you finally came to the realization that he was well and truly gone.

But that didn’t stop the ache you felt. You were left haunted by that last glimpse of him as he slammed the door on you. All the pain, anger, and betrayal etched into his face was all you could see when you thought of him. Every happy memory, every good time together was now tainted by the secret you had kept and the hurt it had caused him.

But the ultimate karmic justice came about three months after Holder left. You and Glenn had broken up a few weeks before after a rather nasty fight which led to an even nastier confrontation. But you didn’t care. Something had felt off for a while, but you couldn’t place your finger on what. So, one afternoon, you were taking a walk through the park, trying to clear your head. As you approached the fountain, you noticed a single monarch butterfly land gracefully on a flower. Sitting down on one of the nearby benches, you watched as it flitted from one plant to another.

You smiled as you remembered lying on Holder’s bed, flipping through his butterfly book while he lay behind you, peppering soft kisses across your bare shoulder and up your neck. He would only pause long enough to drop another fact about the insects before returning to his caresses, his moustache tickling your skin. And when he reached your lips, you rolled over on top of him, the book falling to the floor forgotten.

As you snapped out of the memory, you realized you had been absentmindedly stroking Holder’s chain which has resided on your neck since you had the clasp fixed. Suddenly, all the joy from the memory was sucked into the black hole that had opened in your chest. It became just another casualty of Holder’s disappearance.

But why did it hurt so bad? Why, after all this time did you care this much? He was your best friend, but you had lost friends before. It sucked then you moved on. But this… this was so much more. You thought about him constantly, cried yourself to sleep over missing him, everything good you had left of him had slowly just turned to pain. But you guessed that’s what happened when you lost someone who you loved.

You froze as the realization hit you like a bucket of ice water to the face. I love Holder. That’s why this hurt so much. That’s why you never felt right in your relationship with Glenn. That’s why you couldn’t move past Holder’s departure. Because you loved him! You were in love with Stephen Holder!

You burst into tears as you came to terms with this discovery. Without even realizing it, your friendship and fooling around had developed into something monumentally deeper. And you had pushed him away for loving you when you had loved him at the same time. He was gone because you had been too stupid to realize your real feelings.

For the next hour, you sat on that park bench with no one but the butterfly to watch as you wept for the man you still loved and who you had lost.

The next two years seemed to simultaneously fly by and drag on forever. You tried to move on with your life and forget about Holder but that was much easier said than done. The guilt and regret about how things had ended between the two of you ate at you every day. You tried to go on a few dates, but your mind always circled back to him and after a while, you just gave up. Once things had calmed down some, you had tried to talk to Linden again, but she was still almost as furious at you for causing him to leave as you were at yourself. Finally, you just came to accept that you were just never going to see him again.

Call it fate, call it coincidence, call it dump luck, call it divine intervention, but sometimes things happen for a reason. Your sister’s birthday was coming up and you found out that a bookstore in Tacoma had the limited edition she had been wanting for years. So, after the relatively short 40-minute drive from Seattle, you decided to explore the city some. It was a beautiful day, one of the first warm days Washington had seen since the fall, and you found yourself headed into a park by the water.

The park was busy but not exactly what you would call crowded. As you walked along the bay, looking at all the fish and birds out in the water, you glanced at a couple sitting at one of the tables up ahead and stopped dead in your tracks. The man had his back to you, but his tall frame, dirty blond hair, and gray hoodie all screamed Holder. You took a hesitant step towards him before mentally slapping yourself. You are better than this! You haven’t imagined seeing him in over a year. Not every tall guy in a sweatshirt is Stephen Holder. Pull yourself together! And so, you kept walking.

But as you got closer, more and more things about the man stood out to you. His posture, his movements, the cigarette dangling from his fingers. It was all him. You stopped directly behind the man, uncertain about what to do. But then he laughed, and you knew. It was a sound that both blessed and haunted your dreams. A sound you never thought you would hear in the waking world again.

Breathlessly, you whispered, “Holder.”

The man stiffened slightly before turning around. Oh god! It was him! He looked just the same as you remembered him, if slightly more cleaned up and less scruffy. He blinked in surprise as he saw you there and for a moment, you weren’t sure how he would react. The pain and hurt that had been branded in your brain for the past two years flickered across his face as he recognized you, and for a moment, you thought this had been a mistake. But then, his face softened and he broke into a playful grin as he threw open his arms.

“Yo! Whacha doin’ here, girl? I can’t believe it. ‘Bout time you finally tracked me down. No wonder you never made detective.” He wrapped himself around your smaller frame as he pulled you in for a hug. You stood there in shock for a second before returning the embrace with all of your strength. It’s him….It’s actually him! And he’s not mad.

Holder chuckled as he squirmed in your grasp. “Hey, hey, I missed you too! But I got ta breathe!”

You released him immediately, taking a few steps back. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect…I mean I didn’t know….Are you living here now?”

“Yep. Moved here right after I left. Needed a place still close to Liz an’ Davie but still gave me some distance, you know what I’m sayin’?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course….. I’m just so surprised to see you! I was just in town picking something up and decided to go for a walk and here you are.” You still weren’t sure how to treat him, how he saw you. Were you an old friend or a bitter enemy?

But his smile gave you hope. He glanced over at the girl he was with, and said, “Hey, can I catch you later?” The girl glared at you but nodded, grabbed her stuff, and walked away.

Holder grabbed your hand and began pulling you away from the water. “Here, I know a place that’s normally pretty empty. Give us a lil’ more privacy.”

You allowed him to lead you past the tourists and families spending the afternoon together until it was just the two of you in the heart of the park. Holder let go of your hand and turned to face you. Both of you seemed to be examining the other, looking for the people you were years ago.

Finally, Holder nodded slightly to your neck. “You got what I left for you, so I guess you went by my place.”

Your hand flew to his chain that hung around your neck. “Oh, yeah. I stopped by about a week after…it happened. The new tenant gave it to me. I took it down and got the clasp fix and……It just felt wrong keeping it in that box, so I’ve been wearing it ever since.”

“I’m glad. It looks good on you.” You felt your cheeks grow warm and you turned to apologize, but Holder cut you off. “So, ya still with Jeff or Gordon or whoever?”

“Glenn. Uh, no….that didn’t last very long.”

You subconsciously rubbed your cheek, and Holder noticed. He reached out as he brushed your hand and hair to the side, revealing the scar that was usually hidden.

You saw his jaw tighten as he asked. “Did he hit you or somethin’?”

You shrugged softly. “Only once. He had a ring on. But you know I don’t tolerate shit like that. He was out on his ass before the sting of his hand was gone.”

Holder chuckled, some of the tension visibly vanishing from his body as he ran his thumb lightly over the mark. “Bet he didn’t leave in one piece either. Woulda loved to see that.”

Biting your lip, you suppressed a small smile. “Let’s just say, all those Jiu-Jitsu classes you talked me into taking came in good use that night.”

“That’s my girl!” His grin quickly faded as he realized what he had said. His hands instantly dropped to his side and he stepped back, putting quite a bit of distance between you.

Both of you stood in an awkward silence for a moment before you finally burst out, “I’m so sorry, Holder! I was wrong about everything! Even before Glenn hit me, I was already planning on leaving him. I realized something was off in our relationship, but I didn’t know what. And then a few weeks later, I saw a butterfly on my way to work, and it made me think of that book you used to have, and our time together and it just hit me. I love you, Holder. I love you now and I loved you back then, I was just too stupid to see it. And I’m not expecting you to forgive me or even want to be friends. But I just needed you to kno-”

His mouth was suddenly smashed against yours, cutting off the rest of your words. For a moment, you were so shocked that you didn't know how to respond. But as he deepened the kiss, you let yourself fall into him just like old times. As his hands came up and cupped your cheeks, you ran yours through his hair, pulling him in closer. The kiss felt almost the same as you remembered it, but there was a fire behind it that hadn’t been there before. A neediness that only came from years of separation.

When the two of you finally broke apart, panting slightly, you gazed up at him in wonder. But he just smiled his same old dopey grin. “I love you too, mama. Never stopped.”

“Really?” you breathed. “But the woman you were with? You’re not…”

“Nah, Jasmine? I’m her NA sponsor. I’m goin’ on five years clean,” he said proudly.

You grabbed his hands tightly. “Oh my god, Holder! That’s amazing! I was afraid after… you might have...”

His face dropped slightly. “I thought about it. A lot. Came really close, had the stuff in my hand an’ everythin’. But I knew it ain’t what you would’ve wanted. You were always so proud of me an’ supportive an’ shit. Even after what happened, I couldn’t let you down like that. So, I stopped myself and I still haven’t used since that night you first found me.”

You threw your arms around his neck, forcing him to crouch slightly to compensate for your height difference. “You’re right, I am so incredibly proud of you. And I’m so sorry I put you in that position in the first place. If I had just taken my head out of my ass long enough to see what I had, none of this would have happened. These last two years…. We could have shared them together.”

Holder straightened up suddenly, causing you to have to let go of him. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, as he stared down at you. “Listen, I… I never stopped lovin’ you. But, that don’t mean I lived like a saint these last two years neither.”

You stared at him nervously. “What do you mean? You said you were still off the drugs.”

“Yeah, it ain’t that…….I got a kid. A daughter.”

“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure how to take this news. After all, you were the one who broke his heart. He had every right to go out and sleep with every girl in the state if he wanted. In fact, the two of you had never really even been a couple. He never had to have any loyalty to you, you sure hadn’t had any to him. Yet, for some reason, this revelation still stung.

“Me and her moms dated for a few months, but my heart just wasn’t in it. Then a few weeks later, she tells me she’s pregnant. So… yeah.”

“Wow… congratulations! That’s wonderful Holder.” You pulled him back in for another hug of celebration, but you also used the opportunity to hide your face as you tried to fight the flood of emotions swimming across it. “What’s her name?”

“Kalia. She just turned one a few weeks ago.” You could hear he was still nervous, but there was also a pride and excitement underneath that you had rarely ever heard from him. “She’s fuckin’ amazin’! Everythin’ she does just blows me away, you know what I’m sayin’? An’ she’s already gettin’ so big! She used to fit in one of my hands, an’ now she’s huge! We have joint custody, so I don’t see her every day, but each time I do, she seems bigger! It’s incredible!”

You looked up at Holder’s face and marveled at the joy lighting up his face. You had never seen him happier. And that was enough for you. Anything that could make Holder smile like that, you couldn’t be upset about. “I would love the chance to meet her one day…. If that would be okay?”

Just when you thought Holder’s smile couldn’t get any bigger, it did. “Fo’ real? Like fo’ real, fo’ real? You’d want to meet her?”

“Of course, but only if and when you’re comfortable with that, I don’t want to pressure you. But, I mean, she’s a part of you, Holder. And after so long without you, I want every part of you that I can get. Now and forever.”

He pulled your body tight against his as he leaned down until his forehead was pressed firmly against yours. His smile was shining just as brightly as before. “Mama, you got me, all of me. Then, now, and forever.”

[thunderc1an]

red fur.

[blitzwhore]

I'm certain this has been pointed out before, but...

“Lust shouldn't be about force.”

“Oh! No! Never. NEVER that.”

When Stolas said he would never do that to Blitz, he really meant it. After all, he knows intimately well what it's like to be forced.

[mariaiscrafting]

Jack responded, here are some key points:

He stands with Shelby 100%

Although he has his own experiences with abuse, he never experienced anything with Wilbur

He finds it upsetting to see people online speculating about if he had been abused, too

This came as a big shock for him and he likely won't say anything more on the subject in the future

Here's the link to Women's Aid that he provided in chat: https://www.womensaid.org.uk/

[awkwardandeccentric]

Upon my umpteenth watch, I noticed another thing

We all know Stolas likes his romance books (girl, same), but throughout the first four minutes, he’s not holding it like it’s just another book. He’s holding it like he’s trying to protect it.

Blitz, in the middle of their fight, knocks it to the ground. He’s trying to get the book out of the way while he climbs on the table, sure, but he’s almost making a point, maybe even a subconscious one: you want me more than you want romance.

Stolas just picks the book back up but he clutches it close to his chest for the remainder of their fight.

It doesn’t look expensive. It’s not a first edition. It’s not signed by the author. It’s easily replaced. It’s a hardcover, so it’s not like Blitz damaged it by knocking it off the table. It looks like something I could pick up at Barnes & Noble for $29.99 (and unlike Stolas, if someone was knocking my book around, I’d start giving them head injuries with it. But I’m also not a prince with more money than I could ever spend in ten lifetimes).

And then I started to wonder…

Has Stella ever messed with his books? Has she ever ripped them up or threatened to destroy them or throw them out? Stolas’ two hobbies are reading and gardening. His plants can fight back (good for them) but his books can’t.

Has he ever opened his bedroom door to see his favorite books torn apart? Has he ever tried to throw something away and seen whatever he was reading stuffed down in the trash? Has he ever taken a swim and noticed a waterlogged book at the bottom of the pool?

We’ll likely never know every gory detail of how awful Stella was to him. He was chained to her for 18 years and I’m sure with the drinking, he doesn’t remember a good portion of it. But if she’s willing to rape him and hit him in the face where there’s evidence of her abuse? She’s willing to mess with his stuff. It’s another method of control. Another way to punish him for the crime of existing.

[ianthine-ichor]

I had an ask for this story but it was sadly eaten by the Tumblr gods 😔

So for the anon who asked for John Price x Reader who comes to him years later after a bad breakup because they are in danger, this one's for you!

John Price x Reader ~ All I Have is You

Summary: You come running back to John years after a nasty break-up in hopes of finding some help out of a horrible situation.

Word count:: 6.5k

Tw in tags

John's life could never be simple. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many loose ends he pulled together by the skin of his teeth. There always managed to be something he let lay dormant, something he let fall to the wayside just long enough for it to maybe even slip his mind. And damn near every time it did, it came back with a vengeance.

However, of all the things he knew would come back to haunt him, you were what he expected least of all.

He had believed you a long dead part of his life, a piece of himself better numbed in alcohol than thought about. A face he'd spent endless nights trying to forget the smile of, endless partners failing to take your stead. He'd long since conceded to that aspect of himself being buried, hardly remedied by the ‘I love you’ that would fall from whoever had been his most recent escape from the icy cold of his bed.

But then, on a day like any other in this silent little place he'd given up trying to make feel like any sort of home, he'd opened the door to your unmistakable features.

He didn't know what to feel in the years of silence that seemed to pass. His mind and muscles tore themselves apart trying to find what reaction seemed appropriate. A part of himself didn't believe it, a similar part almost reached out to hold you, and another felt infuriated. He wasn't sure if it was because even so close you felt like light years away or if it was because he wanted to slam the door in your face for daring to ever come back. And for a moment, however small, he seriously considered the latter of the two.

But then you spoke. And suddenly whatever amount of spine had led him to the thought melted like butter.

“I need to talk. I know I have no right to ask but…” you paused, your voice softer than he thinks he's ever heard you speak. There might have even been a quiver in it, but he could hardly believe such a sound could come from the person who had once held together his broken pieces like you'd been solving him your entire life.

“I need your help” your chin raises and you meet his gaze, his skin flashing with the familiarity in how your eyes narrowed and your face snarled. It's hard to take your attempt at strength seriously with how feigned of an attempt it was. He says nothing and just the same he watches as you crumble. Your eyes avert, your hands twitch, your body leans away from him.

He hardly recognizes you.

But he steps aside all the same, a nod inviting you in as he keeps his vow of silence. You almost hesitate, but step in soon enough. Like a long lost ritual you kick your shoes off at the door, hanging your jacket and bristling as the light cold leaves your skin. He notes how you don't let him out of your sight but he can't tell why your eyes burn as much as they do.

Eventually he leads you to the kitchen. He wonders if you notice the empty frames. He wonders if you even care to look.

Like some twisted version of an old dream, you take your spot at the table where you used to sit. And before he even realizes what he's doing he's perking coffee, his eyes turning to you.

“Coffee?” He asks, but he isn't even sure why he does. Looking at you would be enough of an answer. You looked like you hadn't slept in months. You nod anyway.

He pretends to forget how you make your coffee. Out of spite? Anger? Frustration? It doesn't matter. He simply couldn't find the energy to put into someone whose presence made his heart find an old pace that left him biting his tongue at the bittersweet taste. Either way you get your coffee and he somehow finds the energy to sit across from you.

“You wanted to speak. Speak” his words come out harsher than he means them yet he doesn't find regret settling in his chest. Only minor annoyance as he watches you almost recoil from him, your drink pulled to your chest. Your eyes seem to search around for a moment, as if the words you needed so badly to speak would simply appear in front of you. He remembers how he used to find it sweet and can only react by biting his tongue harder.

“You haven't changed much” you begin. He can't help the grimace he shows as the annoyance in his chest grows. He catches how you straighten up under it.

“And you have” he answers back. You say nothing for a long moment and he isn't sure if he offended you or not. But he watches as you take a deep breath, your face hardening in a way he doesn't like.

“I know this isn't exactly…great for you. But it isn't for me either-”

“Why’d you leave?” the words slip out of his mouth before they had even been a thought in his head. Yet where he expected a look of anger or annoyance of your own, you only pause. And soon after, your look manages to grow colder.

“Because you didn't love me anymore” you answer back succinctly, calmly. He feels rage bloom in his chest at the words.

“Bullshit” he mutters through gritted teeth. He doesn't catch the sudden grip you hold on your cup and the way you slightly shake. But other than that you don't break.

“I must have phrased that wrong” there's a tone in your voice, an inflection of something horrible on your tongue.

“You did a piss poor job of making me feel like I was anything other than your fucking bed warmer” your words fall like acid on him. They soak through his marrow and into his bloodstream and become him. And his body rejects it just as quickly.

“You knew the type’a job I had when you met me” his voice is low and restrained as he tries to hold himself back

“It had nothing to do with your work-”

“Well what the bloody hell did it have to do with then!?” He stands, his hands slamming on the table as you immediately flinch away.

“Sit-!” You yell almost instinctively, the only thing he catches is the sudden terror in your tone. You take a stilted breath before speaking again.

“Sit down…please” your voice is much calmer but it does a horrible job at hiding the hitch in your voice or how your subtle shaking suddenly isn't so subtle. The strange demeanor stuns him for a moment, long enough for his flash of frustration to cool back to a simmer. There's a horrible feeling that crawls up his spine at your reaction, this gnawing, biting disgust that rips through him in a way he can't quite explain. He listens despite its elusive source or how he hates the way your eyes are locked on his every movement.

A horrible quiet passes that only further smothers the flames that had grown in his chest. You both hardly took any sips of your coffee as you seemed focused on your breathing and he was focused on loosening the sudden tightness of his muscles. Soon enough he spoke again, though he wasn't about to attempt that conversation again, as unsatisfied as he was by your answer.

“Why are you here?” He asks and this time he finds that his voice is weaker than he'd have liked it; betraying the words that he had meant to sting.

Yet despite that, he watches as your breath pauses and your grip tightens. How had you managed to grow even more tense?

“I don't have anyone else left” you answered, your eyes finally missing him, flickering away for what was barely a single moment. In spite of how hard he fought against it the painful beating in his chest left him worried. He tried not to show it. He hoped he hid it well enough for you not to notice.

The silence seemed to get to you. That or his stare had. Either way you continued.

“I just need somewhere to stay. Just a few months. I’ll figure it out by then and be gone. Just long enough to get some cash together” you try to explain and finally he spots something familiar in you. But it is not a part of you he once knew that he sees. No, he spots something else.

“You’re running from something” he interjects at his realization, your movements freezing at his accusation. You don't seem shocked so much as worried. He hated that you would ever even try to hide the fact from him.

“Yeah um…I am- but it's- it's complicated okay? I just need somewhere to stay-”

“Is it someone?” He questioned, your words lips closing into quiet once more. It stings a strange part of his soul that you seemed so unwilling to tell him outright.

“...It doesn't matter” you finally speak and he hides how his fists tighten. He hates that he cares at all. He hates that he can't help it.

Your plea for shelter lingers in the air for moments longer than either of you cared for. You couldn't handle the quiet of that for long.

“I don't have much, but I'll give you what I can. I'll get a job and pay you back I-”

“No” he shut you down immediately. Your face fell, the desperation of your gaze fixed on him.

“You can stay and I don't need your money” he clarifies and despite the lack of smile, your relief is more than visible.

“Thank you. I promise I'll be gone as quickly as I can get everything in order” you try to instill any sort of confidence that you would be of little bother, that he would hardly notice you here at all.

He couldn't help but feel his stomach fall to his feet at the words.

-

The first month you stayed had been…surreal, to say the least. For the most part the two of you did pretty well with avoiding each other. For moments of the day he would even wonder if that had been some weird fever dream. You? At his door? After so long? It all just felt so strange. Stranger yet that the circumstances were all but ideal. He thought about asking further, about pushing for what it was that led you here and why you had even been running in the first place. But he found that his tongue nearly died in his mouth every time he saw you around. It almost didn't feel real.

And despite the cold that still ran up his spine, the emptiness that found refuge in his chest, the blood that sat heavy in his veins; despite it all…

You still felt like home.

Yet you were still so far out of reach. Words seemed like complicated equations, conversations like rocket science. His words never left the way he wanted them to, his tone always the wrong amount of harsh. And with the way your eyes tracked his presence when he was around, almost unwavering from him…it all just felt so hard to explain. Something had changed, of course it had. It had been years since you two had last seen each other and it had hardly ended on good terms. Still, there was something so wrong here. Something in the way you ever so slightly leaned from him, or the way your eyes flickered to the closest door, or how it all seemed so familiar in a way that wasn't like home. In a way that was more like the warzones he'd grown so accustomed to.

And he could just see it, that fight in your eyes. That twitchiness that you had never had around him before. And he couldn't help but wonder why. Why. Why. Why. Why. What were you fighting and why did it almost feel like it was him?

It was horrible, the way that question had finally been answered.

The front door had slammed open, startling him from the dinner he had been making and setting every one of his senses aflame. It slammed shut before he had even made it to the hall and when he had he could hardly bring himself to swallow the scene.

You stood pushing on the door like it would hold damn near the whole world at bay. With how violently you were shaking he almost wished it would. Your hiccups and sniffles filled the air as you tried and failed about a hundred times to turn the lock. Your clothes were disheveled, your jacket gone and your shirt caked in dirt and…

No, no that wasn't…

“Y/n?” He hardly even remembered opening his mouth before your name fell out. Quiet and worried in a way he hadn't meant to show.

When your head snapped to him all of his insides twisted in a sickly mess. Features he remembered days of leaving soft kisses on were now warped by deep bruises and bleeding wounds. Your eyes wide and glossy, your skin a mix of blood and tears. Your breath had hitched as if any movement would turn him against you. He couldn't help but feel worse at the notion. He moves. Just one simple step closer.

And suddenly it's as if a dam breaks. Your murmuring words he can't understand, a panic on your face he hadn't seen in all of the time he's known you. You yell and thrash and he can't tell if you even know what you're doing, he can't tell if you even see him anymore. His body almost acts on instinct as he quickly grabs the nearest cloth near him before making his way to you. He places the cloth in your hand, your body flinching in a way that makes him hesitate a moment before he guides you to cover your bleeding nose.

“You gotta breathe” he mutters, no longer attempting to cover the look of confused worry that covers him. You seem to try, but a bloody nose makes that a little difficult. In the meantime he guides you to the bathroom, sitting you down as he fishes out a medkit. You stop talking altogether at that point, going eerily silent.

And it stays that way as he wipes away the blood and around deeply forming bruises. It stays as he cleans the wounds and makes sure your nose isn't broken. It stays when the peroxide hits your skin and when the bandages cover them. It's a horrible, false silence. A silence so loud his ears ring, though that could have just as well been the adrenaline leaving his veins. For a while he's fine with it, for a while it's better than the terror-filled panic, for a while it's better than the way you stared and twitched and sobbed.

But then you get a look in your eye. A dangerous look. A look he's seen too many times in his line of work. And suddenly the quiet isn't so safe anymore.

“Still with me there?” He asks in an attempt to gain your attention. To his relief your eyes flick to him and nod. He doesn't quite like how quickly they had turned cold again. In fact he's sure he hates it.

“What happened?” He finally asks and watches how the distant look in your eyes dissolves. Your lips quiver as you try desperately to hold onto a calm that wasn't coming. Your hands grip tightly onto a bloodied paper towel in your hands.

“I-” your voice cracks and you clear your throat. Your eyes avoid him like a simple glance would kill you.

“It's complicated I-” the panic in your voice rises again.

“I have to go- John I have to go-”

“Now hold on” his hand lands on yours, your body tensing under his touch. He can't help but feel sickened at the thought of you scared of him.

“Whatever happened, I promise it's safe, alright? No one's getting in here. You're safe. Just…” he pauses for a moment, his eyes showing his hesitation before he, as gently as he's ever done anything in his life, he places your hand to his chest. Your fingers flatten against him, familiar and comforting, as he lets out a deep breath.

“Just breathe” he almost pleads, something he finds himself regretting almost immediately. Yet despite feeling that he was doing a horrible job, it seemed to calm you all the same. Much to his relief you managed a few deep breaths, your hand still pressed on his heartbeat that he forced to slow.

He is surprised, after all of this, to hear a faint laugh fall from your lips. Quiet and saddened yes, but a laugh nonetheless. And he couldn't have felt more ridiculous than at that moment.

“What?” Or perhaps it seems he could, his dumbfoundedness not hidden in the tone of his voice. It isn't hard for you to wipe the smile from your face, if it had even really been a smile at all.

“Nothing I just…I remember when I had to do this for you” your tone is bittersweet.

“I never thought I'd be on the other side” your voice is breathless and strained, a certain feeling behind it he couldn't quite place. He finds himself snickering along as the once painful memory hits him. He would agree. He never imagined someone strong enough to pull him back to reality could ever need him to do the same.

“Yeah…world's got a fucked up way of making circles” he replies and you give a half-hearted attempt at agreement. And it seems that a moment too soon you pull away and he feels almost as if you take his heartbeat with you.

“Yeah…Yeah, it does…” you murmur, a sentiment far too true found in the quiet whisper. There is almost silence until you speak again.

“I'm sorry” the apology falls in a way not meant to ever leave you. The sound was as sorrowful as seeing a bird stripped of its wings. An act against nature, a horrible twisting of what should be.

“I’m sorry” you break again, though this time you don't shatter so much as you crumble. And he knows then that those words aren't for him. That he hated how they sounded coming from you, how they weren't what he wanted, how he could only wish you'd take them back so that he didn't have to feel the hole in his chest trying to carve its way through his skin.

And how useless he felt then, sat in front of your broken state knowing that you had once done the same with him. How utterly and completely he knew that there was nothing he could do to wipe this looming, horrible terror that was held so deep in your eyes he could only see a warped reflection of himself in them.

And he simply couldn't handle it. He felt weak, hopeless, useless. But what was there to do? He had never seen you so truly pained, he had only ever known the other side of this situation.

So he did the only thing he could. He pulled you close, slow and cautious, before the both of you crashed into one another. Hands that had twitched at his mere presence now held him as tightly as the shirt on his back. As if, should you let go, you'd be cast adrift again into the crimson rapids. And he could only hold just as tightly, hoping that if he just held on tight enough that the falling parts of you would stay, that he might save even a single piece from the agony you were lost in a sea of.

You two stayed like that for a long while, hardly caring about that time that passed. At some point, so overtaken by the exhaustion of your endless bouts of tears and the near-death experience you'd just endured, you'd passed out in his arms.

And like some cruel twisting of a memory he held dear, he carried you to bed. He tried not to glance too much at your features, the cuts and bruises sending sickening waves through him, as he laid you down. He took a shaky breath as he covered you in a blanket, taking care to be quiet as he left the room.

In the absence of your presence there was only rage.

A fire unlike any he had felt struck him like lightning, a burning hatred at who could have ever done this to you. His feet moved but his mind was preoccupied with who and why and- god why didn't you just tell him what happened? What could have ever led to this?! What had you done? Who had you upset?

The thoughts plagued his mind as he set up his spot on the couch. Yet when the pillows had been laid and the blanket placed, he could not find it in himself to rest. He could only pace and snarl and burn with such a horrible feeling. How dare they. How dare they. How could anyone do this to you? To his-...

It was only those final words that managed to slow his thoughts, a sinking feeling resting in his chest.

Not his. You were not his. Not for a long while, not anymore…

But there was no hiding the fire in his skin. No denying how deeply he held you, how desperately he wished to never let go again. He could only curse whatever higher power could hear him. Curse them for ever doing this to either of you. Of ever letting him know your name.

It was a horrible pain to want so desperately to have you back, but there was no pain worse than you returning in broken pieces. Worse yet to know that, maybe, had he done things differently, you might not have left his arms to shatter against a world he could have protected you from. To know that he failed.

He lit a cigar with a shaky hand. He knew then that there would be no sleeping tonight.

-

Your eyes were heavy as they opened, protesting against your attempts to wake up. You thought, in your groggy state, that it might be better to never open them again, to give in to what they demanded from you. To close them a final time.

But it was only a passing thought in your utterly exhausted state. A whisper held at the back of your mind just waiting for the moment that it might scream itself into existence. But not today. Not now, at least.

And so you forced them open, a groan halfheartedly falling from your lips as you pushed away the comfort of infinite dark. You managed enough strength to sit up, regretting it almost immediately when a dull pain burned your side. You would have been confused, maybe even a little worried, if not for the returning throbs of the many cuts along your face and arms that swiftly and brutally remind you of yesterday.

So close. You had been so close to the end. You were lucky to have made it out alive. It was honestly a miracle you had.

Cornered, like an animal. You remembered the feeling well. Trapped right where you didn't want to be. It was like he could smell your terror as he bared his wolfish teeth in the warm street light. A wicked smile, one that scorched itself into an unhealthy scar upon you. Never to be forgotten, a thing of nightmares.

You had run as far as you could go, lungs empty and feet sore, your hands covered in the warmth of your own blood as you tried to hold even just a part of yourself together, to manage to escape through the skin of your teeth once more. You had done it before, but a second time was surely a test of fate.

You had been lucky, then, that a bus was passing by. It shouldn't have been there so late so far out of town. But by some higher being or just through the world's sick way of fucking with you it was. You had never been so relieved to be met with headlights in your life; you practically screamed in relief as you waved it down. Your hunter was as scared as a doe in them, slithering off into the shadows like the coward you knew him as. The driver, a woman in her forties, looked horrified at the state of you. But you had brushed off her panic and worry and told her to simply drive. You were thankful the bus was empty. You couldn't have handled anyone else's questions in your utter panic.

You had only been a five-minute drive from salvation, from the home you had long since abandoned, only to return to in your time of need. Five minutes.

He must have known. Someone might have told him or you might have mentioned John in one of your many pain-filled benders. It didn't matter. He knew where you were, and it seemed his patience had only grown thinner. You were sure now that he would not stop with breaking you under his iron grip, but utterly destroying you.

All at once these thoughts hit you, flooding your mind with panic and worry. You're breathing shallowed as your mind falls down this path, stopping only when the end of the memory comes to mind.

John…

You tried to move him from your mind, to rid yourself of the sinking feeling that came when you thought of how quickly he had jumped to help you, even after years of silence and weeks of ignoring each other. You try not to think of his attempts at gentle touch, calloused battle-worn hands not quite built for the kindness he was showing. You remove from your mind how he held your hand to him, how it seemed like no time had passed from when you left with how quickly he knew what would truly calm you. And most of all, you try to remove the feeling of his arms around you, desperate and worried and familiar and home. You try, as little as that means nowadays.

You deduce that sitting in silence isn't the best way to distract you from these things, and so you finally stand from the bed, noting only then that you don't remember falling asleep here. But you let that slip your mind as well. You prefer the static buzz of being busy over thinking too much about any of this. It only made things harder.

So your feet moved without you, intimately familiar with the halls and doors and light switches. After all, it had been your home, once upon a lifetime ago.

You hardly stagger as you make your way to the kitchen, accustomed to the constant lull of pain in the back of your mind. A whisper of its own, and one you realized it better to ignore.

You are close to allowing the static buzz to take over, close to numbing and leaving your brain on autopilot. Close to the preferable numbness. So very close. But upon taking a step into the kitchen, you are met with a sight so twistedly familiar you are shocked back into yourself.

John sat at the table, two plates laid out and coffee poured. A quaint scene, an old one. A memory from a different time, faded and aged and different in ways that leave you sick. Because he didn't stare with the complete adoration of a man in love, nor did his eyes avert, distracted and tired, as they had on the day you had left him here. But instead they tear through you. Locked on you the second you entered. It amazed you how his eyes of crystal blue, so similar to that of a frozen storm, could burn through you so easily.

You think for a moment that this is it. That he's going to kick you out with only a final meal and that you are going to be thrown to the starved wolf you knew lurked just outside. You prepared yourself to plead, to apologize, to ask for any bit of mercy he might show you. After all, you had lost your dignity a long time ago, and it wouldn't be the first time you had begged for your life.

But then, as if the elements of himself collided, the fire in his eyes cooled to a warm glow. Soft and familiar and warm, warm, warm.

You almost wished then that he'd return to his fiery glare.

“Sit, love” It isn't a command as much as a quiet plea, his voice is soft and calm and maybe even worried, a rare combination for him. It's a sound so foreign now that you almost don't trust it. His expression falls further as you hesitate.

“I just wanna talk” he tried to explain, to give you any reason to trust him. It works, though only barely. You take a hesitant seat across from him.

The smell of the food hits your nose and only then do you realize you hadn't eaten last night. The waft of coffee only seems to make things worse as it reminds you of how tired you are.

“We can eat first” you can't tell if it's a question or a statement, but either way you take the opportunity. You were too weak to deny how much you needed this right now. You would regret it later, you were sure, but for right now you would allow yourself this small indulgence.

And so it was quiet, absent the sound of forks hitting plates. Quiet in a way that you weren't sure if you liked or despised. You wondered if it even mattered.

It was a few bites in and halfway through your coffee that he spoke again.

“I saw a butterfly this morning” his words cut the silence in a way that baffles you out of the static once more. Out of your head and your thoughts and the sinking feeling in your chest.

“Oh?” You respond almost too naturally, almost too much like you used to. If it weren't for the heaviness in your voice, you might have even forgotten that this wasn't like it used to be.

“Yeah. Should’ve seen it. It had all your favorite colors” his words are almost light in spite of the tense atmosphere and, despite it all, it manages the smallest smile from you.

“I’m sure it was beautiful” you reply and watch as the look on his face changes. You can't quite read it, a strange softness is all you can take from it. But there never fails to be that lingering sadness there. That worry. That pain you can't quite bring yourself to address. And so you look away, your eyes turned down to your food once more.

The silence that follows threatens to suffocate the two of you, drown you in this horrible replication of better times, and punish you for daring to seek even this small comfort. And so, knowing that there is only one way this will go, he finally asks.

“What happened last night?” You feel your throat tighten almost immediately, not daring to pick up your fork when the weight of that question falls atop you. You find it hard to give him an answer, let alone one that might satisfy him.

“I…It’s…” you struggle and hope that maybe you might just disappear, that maybe all of this was some horrible nightmare you'd wake from. But as seconds passed it became clear it wasn't. Clearer still that you had to give him an answer after what he'd seen.

“It's complicated” you try to explain but you knew the moment the words fell that they wouldn't be enough. You think that maybe he'll be angry at this, that he'll slam the table like he had before and demand a better explanation. But a glance shows that his expression only deepens in its worry.

“Then explain it to me” he pleads once more. It was a rare day he ever pleaded, begged, or even so much as asked for something. Rarer yet that it's genuine. Your mouth goes dry and silence remains. You can't bring yourself to look at him.

“Love-” his hand reached for yours and the contact shocks every nerve in your body. You flinch away from him, regretting it a moment later when his worry turns to pain on his face. He retracts his hand with the most hesitance you've ever seen from him; a man so usually sure of himself.

“I just need to know what's happening. I-...” he falters, another rare sight. He takes a shaky breath.

“I won't hurt you” those words come out stronger than the rest, as truthful as he could have possibly made them. And, despite its softness, it seems to tear apart the very walls you had built to keep you safe.

But safe from what, exactly? When the wolf lays outside, and this place is your final sanctuary, what does that make him? You weren't quite sure, but somehow you knew that whatever this was, it felt…well it felt familiar at least. A devil you knew well enough to find some comfort in the warmth of.

Your head turns away, arms held against you in a pitiful attempt to comfort yourself. You think, for a moment, that you might run from here. That you might leave everything behind in the wake of the words that threaten to leave your tongue.

But he wants the truth. And who are you to deny him it? It couldn't make things much worse than they already are.

“Where do you even want me to start?” You ask him, voice hollow and cold and empty. There was no more of yourself to give than a story. You wondered if the sacrifice would even matter.

“Wherever you need to” he answers back, his shoulders squared: tense. You had half a mind to comfort him, but you doubt it would've helped. So, with a deep breath that does very little to calm your nerves, you finally answer him.

“When I left I didn't want to start over, but I didn't want to see you again either. So I moved a few towns over” you started, your voice detached from yourself, like it came from someone else entirely.

“A few months later I met someone. He had been so kind at first. Loving, attentive. He made me feel like I existed in the world again. Made me feel wanted” your words murmur and a snarl forms, even talking about it makes you sick.

“I was stupid, blinded, didn't pay attention. Didn't care, really…” you pause, your hands indenting into your skin as if to keep you where you sat, as if to stop you from fading from here.

“I married him” your words come out much more mournful than you mean to, your snarl nothing more than a quivered lip now. You had married that monster.

You didn't have to glance at John to know the look on his face. Anger, rage, a twisted form of jealousy. It was a knife to his back, you imagine, that you might have married another man before he had ever put a ring on your finger. But you weren't quite sure you cared anymore. After all, it wasn't you who had been so cold to him those final days you were together.

“I didn't realize who he was until then. He'd always been…rough. Arrogant, quick-tempered, prone to violence. But I guess I just thought that he wouldn't ever treat me like that. That I was different. That he loved me” your words shake and you do your best to pull those broken strings together. To steel yourself. To not be so pathetic.

“I was wrong…” you allow yourself the pain of those three words and in so scar your heart further as you admit it. He had never loved you.

“I tried to get away, I tried to start over again, but he wouldn't let me leave. I can't get a job without him finding me, can't get a place to stay, can't start over. I thought maybe if I came here, maybe if my name wasn't on anything, maybe if I was careful enough then I could figure it out…I was wrong about that too” you curse yourself when tears sting at you. You do your best to hide it, to disappear in front of his own eyes. But there was only so much you could do. Hiding from him had never been your strong suit.

John feels…well he doesn't quite know. A mixture of everything horrible, he thinks. He can't stand how your eyes avoid him as the words fall, how with each passing word he can only find regret. Regret that he hadn't held you closer, that he hadn't kept you safe. And he hates that the consequences don't fall to him, that he wasn't the one burned, that instead he watches you crumble and break and shatter. He had loved you, he had always loved you. That hole in his heart, that void you filled. Ripped from him and torn apart as swiftly as a flower in a stormy ocean. He hardly had the mind to blame you anymore, hardly had the heart to. He could do nothing but blame himself and the cruel creature he could hardly call human. The one who had dared to lay a finger on you. The one he could imagine tearing apart with his bare hands.

There are questions that circle his brain, words that travel from the top of his head and almost meet his tongue. ‘What’s his name?’ ‘Where can I find him?’ ‘How long had this been happening?’ ‘Why hadn't you said something sooner?’

He lets out a shallow breath, his eyes closing in thought for only a short moment before he stands. The sound of the chair startles you into watching him once more. His steps are slow, and deliberate, as they make their way towards you. You lean away for a moment, as you had since you'd gotten here, but it calms as you watch him. His movement is predictable; safe.

And soon, just as slow and just as softly, his hands fall on your face as they had hundreds of times before. Calloused but warm, a softness he only ever found with you. He is gentle along your bruises, careful with them. You can't look from him now, eyes searing through him. But he had nothing to hide, and so he stared back.

“We're gonna figure this out” he speaks to you, words like comforting slashes against your soul in how they tear your emotions from you. Your attempts to hide were all but vain now, tears falling freely and only barely held from a sob. Your breaths shake as your eyes close into the comfort, hands falling onto his as if he might just slip away. He presses a kiss, hesitant yet desperate against the crown of your head.

“He ain't ever hurting you again” his words are a promise as he mumbles them against your skin before placing his head against yours. You make no attempt to pull away, instead finding that a broken smile falls on your lips, one of utter relief. Somehow you find a will to speak.

“I missed you”

-

Potential part two? Maybe? Probably? Definitely?

[torchflies]

*Little blurb about Jake’s terrible childhood and the five siblings he raised on his own. It might become a series 😉*

“Ness Seresin is born on Caddo Lake, split between Texas and Louisiana.

He comes a month too early.

(Or, a brief look into the childhood of Jake Seresin, who wasn't always Jake, and the five kids he raised).”

[calitsnow]

Let’s talk about Hong Lu’s siblings:

Canto VII provides us with a really good amount of lore on Hong Lu. And to be fair it’s pretty normal since he’s the next one to have a therapy session after Don, so it’s only natural that things are speeding up on his side, and what an acceleration it is, as we’ve had the chance to meet a new member of his family. While we’ve already encountered Jia Huan and heard a few mentions here and there of other members of his family (his father, grandmother, and so on), we hadn’t been introduced to a single family member since Canto I. And honestly, fair enough, because even though the Jia family seems large, they also seem very distant from city life, as it feels like no one knows them, or at least no one recognizes Hong Lu, even people in important positions within the family.

But the most interesting part of this encounter is that we’ve now had confirmation, apparently, that Jia Baoyu’s cousins have become siblings for Hong Lu (who is supposed to be Jia Baoyu), and another small detail is that Project Moon didn’t let Hong Lu’s little sister and her bodyguard use his name. Indeed, Hong Lu doesn’t hesitate to say Xichun’s name, but she, on the other hand, simply calls him “brother,” “my naive brother,” while Wei calls him “young master.” So it’s still possible that Hong Lu is not his real name.

With that, I think it’s time for me to make a post recapping Jia Baoyu’s cousins and siblings to help those who haven’t read the novel (and those who have, because oh boy, this family is so big, it’s easy to get lost among the different branches).

This post aims to introduce the various cousins of Jia Baoyu by briefly giving some info about them. If you’re interested, I also made a post about Baoyu’s family members, including his grandparents, parents, uncles and aunts (by blood, not marriage), and his brothers and sisters just here.

For this post, I’ve decided to talk about each of Jia Baoyu’s cousins in order of birth (from the oldest to the youngest) to help figure out where they might stand in relation to Hong Lu, if Project Moon has kept the birth order (Xichun seems to confirm it, but Jia Huan seems to contradict that, so we’ll see…).

Even though I’m not sure of the exact birth order I’m using (I am not even sure there is a 100% clear one, I’m 99% sure about their placement in relation to Jia Baoyu, knowing whether they are older or younger than him. This is the most interesting part, as this information will help us figure out who can be considered an older brother/sister to Hong Lu and who can be considered a little brother/little sister.

That’s also why, even though I’m not explaining again Jia Baoyu’ siblings, I’ve still placed them in this birth order ranking to help with orientation, especially in relation to Jia Baoyu.

I realize this post doesn’t help with visualizing the family as a whole, but my posts are more informational and serve to share snippets of the lore from The Dream of the Red Chamber, rather than creating a family tree.

Lastly, it’s worth noting that the Jia family is split into two main branches: Ningguo and Rongguo, two of the most prestigious aristocratic families in the capital. These branches descend from a common ancestor but are managed separately. I will try to indicate which branch each cousin belongs to.

To note:

The Ningguo house is the elder branch of the Jia family, descended from the elder of the two founding brothers. Although it is the elder branch, the Ningguo house is in decline in terms of wealth and influence compared to the Rongguo branch. Jia Zhen and other members of this branch are often involved in immoral behaviors, which further contributes to the decline of this part of the family.

The Rongguo house is the younger branch, founded by the second brother of the Jia family. It is more prosperous and influential than Ningguo, mainly due to the connections made by Jia Yuanchun, the daughter of Jia Zheng, who becomes an imperial concubine. This gives the branch an advantage and elevates its social status.

Jia Baoyu belongs to this branch.

Wang Ren:

Apparently, he is the elder brother of Wang Xifeng.

Son of the elder brother of Wang Ziteng, Lady Wang, Wang Zisheng, and Aunt Xue.

Jia Zhen, Ningguo House:

Head of the Ningguo House, the elder branch of the Jia Family. He inherited the title of marquis when his father (Jia Jing) became a Taoist practitioner.

Son of Jia Jing.

Husband of Lady You.

Father of Jia Rong.

Older brother of Jia Xichun.

Jia Baoyu’s oldest cousin.

He is not very focused on work and extremely greedy.

Leads a life of debauchery, preferring to chase women with his cousin Jia Lian.

He had an affair with his daughter-in-law Qin Keping (wife of Jia Rong, Jia Baoyu’s nephew).

Wang Xifeng, Rongguo House:

Also known as Sister Phoenix.

Daughter of Wang Ziteng, Lady Wang, Wang Zisheng, and Aunt Xue.

Wife of Jia Lian.

(yes, she is also his cousin by marriage because her mother’s sister is the wife of her husband’s father’s brother, I know it’s complicated.)

Mother of Jia Qiaojie.

Sister of Wang Ren.

Proud, scheming, and incredibly capable, she manages the Jia family with rigor.

However, she is also vain, greedy, devious, and cruel.

She always blames others and takes all the credit for herself.

Her life ends due to a serious illness, and her ruined family eventually disperses.

She is the second person that Aunt Zhao (Jia Huan’s mother) tries to kill (besides Jia Baoyu) using black magic.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jin Lin.

Jia Lian, Rongguo House:

First son of Jia She (the older brother of Jia Baoyu’s father, Jia Zheng).

Husband of Wang Xifeng (Sister Phoenix).

(Yes, she’s also his cousin by marriage since her mother’s sister is the wife of his father’s brother, I know it’s complicated.)

He also has a concubine (Second Sister You).

Father of Jia Qiaojie.

Half-brother to Jia Yingchun and Jia Cong.

He bought an official title but has some shady activities.

He is a notorious womanizer and has a strong sexual appetite.

His marriage with Wang Xifeng is only for appearance, and he’s more of a dandy.

He manages the finances and hires people with his wife, but they often argue over this power.

He is a frivolous man with flaws, but he still has a conscience.

Jia Zhu, Baoyu’s older brother (deceased):

Already covered in the previous post

Jia Yuanchun, Baoyu’s older sister, Rongguo House:

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jin Lin.

She is the first of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Already covered in the previous post

Xue Pan:

Son of Aunt Xue

Husband of Xia Jingui (wife who seems to have caused many troubles for the family)

Older brother of Xue Baochai

His father died when he was very young, and as a result, his mother indulges him excessively.

He is the opposite of his sister but holds a genuine respect for her.

Nicknamed the “Stupid Despot.”

He leads a leisurely life and enjoys beautiful landscapes but also a dissolute lifestyle, including his attraction to men.

Arrogant, he relies on the powerful ones to bully others.

He has committed several murders as a result of fights and resolves his issues with money.

He is a typical thug and was a local bully in Jinling City, where the Xues came from.

Jia Baoyu, Hong Lu is here :D

Jia Yingchun, Rongguo House:

An extramarital child and the only daughter of Jia She (Jia Baoyu’s uncle).

Half-sister of Jia Lian.

She is honest but timid.

Yingchun is kind-hearted but lacks willpower and is described as having a “listless” personality, indifferent to worldly affairs.

Although she is beautiful and cultured, she does not possess the intelligence or quick wit of her cousins.

Her most notable trait is her refusal to intervene in family matters.

She marries an imperial court official, in a desperate attempt by her father to restore the declining fortune of the Jia family.

After her marriage, she becomes a victim of domestic violence and is ultimately killed by her husband, a general.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

She is the second of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Jia Cong:

Youngest son of Jia She and Lady Xing

Younger brother of Jia Lian and Jia Yingchun

To be honest I don’t have anything else on him and I only put him here because he appeared in the Jia Family’s tree

Shi Xiangyun, Rongguo House:

Granddaughter of Grandmother Jia’s brother (the Dowager’s brother).

Daughter of Shi Ding.

Favorite of Grandma Jia.

Her connection with Baoyu is strong, causing initial jealousy from Lin Daiyu, but they later become close.

She is exceptionally beautiful and is described as a tomboy, androgynous, dressing like a man and enjoying eating meat and drinking.

She was raised by her uncle after the death of her parents.

Orphaned, she remains optimistic, joyful, and full of humor despite a difficult life filled with tedious tasks like embroidery.

She embodies liveliness, naivety, optimism, and naturalness.

Very talented in poetry, she is almost as skilled as Lin Daiyu and Xue Baochai. She is part of the Crab Flower Club.

She will become a widow after her marriage.

One of the memorable scenes in the novel is in Chapter 62 when Xiangyun gets drunk and falls asleep among the flowers in the Prospect Garden, surrounded by butterflies.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

Xue Baochai, Rongguo House:

Daughter of Aunt Xue.

Wife of Jia Baoyu.

(Yes, she is also his cousin by blood since her mother is the sister of Jia Baoyu’s mother.)

Sister of Xue Pan.

She is a calm, distinguished, social woman with a pleasant, tolerant character, in contrast to Lin Daiyu.

She is the only one whose talents could rival Lin Daiyu’s and is described as very skilled in poetry.

She receives praise throughout the Jia household and helps Lady Wang with household management.

At the same time, she is very calculating.

Her wishes are fulfilled when she marries Jia Baoyu (as the perfect wife) and bears him a son, but she will remain alone in the end as her husband becomes a monk and disappears.

Her marriage is seen as a maneuver orchestrated by Wang Xifeng and Grandma Jia.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

Lin Daiyu, Rongguo House:

Daughter of Jia Min (sister of Jia She and Jia Zheng) and Lin Ruhai (a scholar and official from Suzhou).

(She is, in fact, Jia Baoyu’s cousin by blood, as her mother is the sister of Jia Baoyu’s father.)

Known by the nickname “Princess of the Water.”

She is said to be the reincarnation of the Crimson Pearl Flower and has a deep connection to the jade stone (which Jia Baoyu embodies) that helped her when she was a flower.

She has lived with her maternal grandmother (Grandmother Jia) since the death of her father and mother (which is roughly when the story begins).

She is exceptionally beautiful, but her life is marked by chronic illness, which affects her fragile appearance.

She is a haughty, distant, and very sensitive young girl with exceptional intelligence.

More specifically, she is emotional, prone to melancholy and mood swings.

She is particularly vulnerable and often experiences jealousy, insecurity, and loneliness despite her elevated position in the household.

She is highly talented in poetry, and her poems are greatly admired, especially those composed during moments of melancholy, such as when she buries flower petals.

Her love for Jia Baoyu is mutual and is a major storyline in the novel (she is his soulmate, while Baochai represents the ideal social match).

On the day of Baoyu and Baochai’s arranged wedding, she dies after crying all the tears from her body.

While Baochai embodies the virtuous and practical woman, Daiyu represents sensitivity and emotional fragility.

She ranks first among the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

Jia Tanchun, Jia Baoyu’s Half-Sister, Rongguo House:

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

She is the third of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Already covered in the previous post

Jia Huan, Half-Brother:

Already covered in the previous post

Jia Xichun, Ningguo House:

Daughter of Jia Jing.

Sister of Jia Zhen.

When she was little, her mother died, and Lady Wang brought her to the Rongguo Mansion.

She has been a devout Buddhist since childhood.

She is mainly depicted as an adolescent or pre-adolescent in the story.

She is a cold woman who always keeps her distance in human relations.

An excellent painter, she is tasked with painting the Prospect Garden for Granny Liu.

The death of the matriarch, the looting of the Prospect Garden, and the family’s expropriation shake her life and drive her to convert to Taoism.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

She is the fourth of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Voilà! I hope this post will be useful and if i ever made a mistake do not hesitate to notify me :) and I’ll finish this post by saying that apparently Hong Lu would have 15 siblings (14 if we don’t count the one who is dead at the beginning of the novel)

[splosh-crime]

Bruce Banner is Tim Drake’s Uncle

In the comics, Bruce Banner is canonically taken in by his aunt Susan Drake after his father’s jailed for mariticide.

Let’s say Susan Drake was Janet’s mother and that Bruce Banner was raised alongside her.

When he goes to college and becomes a scientist he’s still in contact with them but being on the run from the government tends to put a dampener on communications so Bruce Banner has never met Janet’s spouse or child.

When Tim lies about his uncle having custody of him, he didn’t make up a new uncle. Thus, SHIELD was alerted when Bruce B’s name suddenly appeared in new legal custody records.

They’d been meaning to investigate Gotham for awhile anyway but the locals had been less than cooperative and SHIELD is a bit swamped with aliens and mutants nowadays to chase shadows.

With a gothamite in the custody of an Avenger and sharing a living space with a few more, SHIELD’s chances of getting new intel on Gotham are at a record high so they alert Bruce Banner of Tim’s orphan status and help him gain custody.

Let it be said that one should never bet against a bat.

[andtheclockstruckthirteen]

I’ve seen a few works in this fandom on ao3 that portray Ursa as a worse parent than Ozai and as ungrateful for everything she had as a princess and then Fire Lady becuase it was a position of privilege that most others in the Fire Nation were too poor for yada yada

I just want to remind people that while she might not have been a great parent to Azula and while she was fortunate to not have to worry about being poor, Ozai is canonically physically and mentally abusive and Ursa was literally forced into a non-consensual marriage under threat of harm and it can be assumed (depending on your preferences, because that would be in headcanon territory not canon as of right now) that the act of producing Zuko and Azula was also non-consensual (through coersion at the very least because even if she participated in it or wasn't expressly fighting back, it's not like she realistically would've had much of a choice)???

And her not having to worry about being poor was replaced by her having to worry about living under an extremely powerful abuser that she physically cannot get away from because he is the highest level of authority in the country under the firelord and crown prince? nevermind that i think Azulon actually arranged the marriage himself? (that might be fanon i will admit, I haven't read the comics and by the sounds of it, I don't really want to see my favs get nerfed like that)

Like Ozai is an abuser from the royal family in an imperialist, war-mongering country??? She was a random girl from a Fire Nation village unfortunate enough to be related to the past fire avatar?

we don't even know if she was a neglectful parent to Azula for sure because families living under powerful abusers have a lot of nuace that people refuse to acknowledge (and who are incredibly fortunate themselves not to understand), especially when that child starts resembling their abuser (and I'm not talking about having anger issues, I'm talking about Azula making fun of Zuko for their father being ordered by their grandfather to comit filicide and their father agreed). but i digress.

even if she was emotionally neglectful of Azula, she would still be a better parent than Ozai who LITERALLY MELTED HALF HIS SON'S FACE OFF AS HE BEGGED FOR MERCY AS A 13 YEAR OLD

in what world is emotion neglect more severe than a murder attempt??? like all abuse is bad 100% but demonising the other parent as horrible and ignoring the parent who tried to murder their own child multiple times in canon??? that's some top-tier victim blaming (and woman-hating, considering I don't see Ozai getting the same treatment for emotionally neglecting Zuko in the same fucking work) right there.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I'm suddenly thinking about the trope when characters end up inside their loved one's memories...

If Jake passed through the memories of the sleeping rescues, plus Nat and Kauri, whose would he be most surprised by? Which would most upset him?

Which memory would Kauri be most worried about him stumbling on and watching as if it's happening all over again?

I realise this is a bit convoluted so no worries if you're not feeling it as a question!!

I think Kauri would worry the most about Jake seeing that he genuinely loved Owen, and would have happily stayed his pet forever if Owen hadn't been abusive emotionally and physically, and that even then it wasn't the existence of abuse that made Kauri desperate to escape, but the escalation of it and his realization that Owen was going to kill him one day, no matter how good he was and how well he played the part.

He would be - and often is - ashamed of other people realizing that Kauri had very real stars in his eyes for a while. Owen was sweet and funny and kind compared to the Facility, and Kauri found himself head over heels quickly. It took a while for the occasional tempers to turn into terror. It took far longer for the terror to erode the love.

And, even worse in Kauri's mind, would be Jake realizing Kauri still loved Owen when he ran from him. He escaped Owen with a heart still wholly committed to 'if only' with the same man who nearly choked him to death. Kauri feels a lot of shame about that, even more than he does about his use of drugs and alcohol to self-medicate his trauma (and untreated ADHD). He would hate for Jake to see how he really felt.

As for a specific memory... probably any of the times he and Owen were honestly happy. He doesn't think Jake would get it. He would be wrong - Jake, as the adult child of a man who put his mother in the hospital a half-dozen times and put Jake himself in the hospital twice and bruised him badly enough to be kept from school to make it less obvious a dozen times more, completely understands. But I don't think Kauri fully understands that.

Jake would be surprised by how naive Nat was when she took the job at WRU and how little she had understood what she was being employed to market. He would be surprised by kind people were to Kauri, too - how often Kauri was desperate and scared only to have some stranger who could have done him harm choose to be kind instead.

As for others... he would not so much be surprised as seeing Antoni's time with Mr. Davies and the realization that Antoni left the woman behind in his chance for escape and feels unending guilt knowing she almost certainly died because of him... it would make Jake understand him much better.

He would be surprised that Jameson and Nanda were so happy, too. He would never believe that, not really, without seeing it for himself. Jameson doesn't strike him as someone who is ever happy about anything. He would be totally caught off-guard by how soft Jameson could be, before he was ground into the bitterness he wears like armor now.

[revacholian-girl-utena]

There are no stars. There is no light. There will be no future. (Requested by @thediscoelysiumlesbian )

Alt text: Screencaps from Revolutionary Girl Utena with overlaid text. 1: A closeup of Anthy's eyes, hair down and no glasses, staring down Utena in the moment she discovers Akio abusing Anthy. Text: "Oh, yes."

2: A closeup of Utena's eyes, wide with shock, from the same scene. Text: "This is real darkness."

3: A framed photo of Akio and Anthy, half in shadow as the window shades rise to reveal the room. Text: "Real darkness has love for a face."

4: Anthy's silhouette, hair flying wildly, pierced by many blades. Text: "The first death is in the heart." End alt text.

[sinnful-darling]

BAERRR THE MALE SIREN ONE WAS JUST SO— JRKEODKDDNDKSSKEKDJDJDK

SCREAMING. 🛐🛐🛐

He makes me wanna punch him in the face (romantically😳)

Are we getting a part 2 soon?? 🤭🤭

YAN! MALE SIREN PRINCE PT2

tws: manipulation mentions, abuse mentions, torture implications (not directed to the reader), domestic violence mentions, regicide,

i didn’t know y’all would like that so much 😭😭 but yes i can do a pt 2.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who, as mentioned before, is the eldest. He’s the heir of the Siren Folk and because of that, his parents are extremely strict.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who has scars on his back from lashings and has had scales ripped off of his tail as a punishment. His parents punish him when he doesn’t live up to their expectations, so he’s become very introverted and resentful because of this.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince whose name is Mattias.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who is natural kind and nurturing, but is also a master of manipulation. Be careful, his words might not be in your best interest at times!

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince whose father was not only abusive to him, but to his mother as well. Because of this, he plans on killing his father and taking the throne to protect his mother and his siblings.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who tried his best to protect his siblings and mother from his father’s wrath, but when his father laid hands on you, he snapped.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who kills his father in a blind rage, claiming the throne and immediately creates a law that protects all human lovers.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who, in case you were wondering, used a spell to permanently allow you to breathe underwater since you refused to become a Siren.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who is a better ruler than his father by far, but because of that, he doesn’t have much time for you anymore.

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who wishes he left his home with you instead of becoming the King. He’d be able to spend more time with you that way…

♡Yan! Male Siren Prince who fakes your deaths and leaves his home to find a new place to live!

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who’s furious when he finds out his siblings figured out his plan and invited themselves >:((

♡ Yan! Male Siren Prince who begrudgingly admits that the more people there are to protect you and have eyes on you the better. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all… but you have to love him the most!

[igotsnothing]

Beginning/Previous/Next

Stargazing poses by @herecirmsims, who is wicked talented.

[veryverydumureghost]

Chat why did he abuse me all I said was "no" did I really deserve to have bruses all over me? Did I really deserve to be 15 at the abortion clinic begging them to get rid of that "thing"? would my baby girl have been anything like him? Did I have to send her to sleep forever?

[tainted-sweet-meats]

Personal oc for my fursonas universe Rodney He is a canon best friend of both my Sona Nish, their Doppelgänger( Nishou) and eventually pretty boi ( sasha) in the end..

Sneak peak info of him from my fursonas universe page that is not published publically

Read more under the cut to know about him vvvvvv

Full name: Rodney Ramirez Coding: Dominican/Jamaican Gender/ sexuality: cis/ bisexual (non-commitment) Pronouns: He/him Size: 6"5' Species: Rooster BirthPlace/Birthday: Jamaica/ Aug 23rd Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Age: 35

Voiceclaim: N/A

personality music

N/A

Info: Rodney is more kin with Nishou than they are Nish. He is one of Nishou's best friends and while he is aware of Nishou entirely, it does not bother him in the slightest.  However, in that same breath, Rodney can be seen interacting with Nish being flirty, or even passing his openness with them as friends. He seems to be highly interested in Nish, not fully romantic but there is obvious physical lust and curiosity. Though Nishou tells him to stay away from his original vessel for his own personal reasons. Rodney thinks good competition between men never hurt anyone. Nor will anyone stand in his way when he wants something or someone. He tends to go behind his friend's back in order to get to the original vessel. He seems haughty and aloof beyond his flirtations, and his intentions aren't really known. which in a way allures the original but also irritates them. While the original and he may romp from time to time, there is nothing too serious going on. There is a sinister air about Rodney that Nish does not fully trust, so their interactions stay solely on the fun. That sinister air is Rodney's connection to their doppel.

Rodney however does not care to be wrapped up in the drama that concerns both Nish and Nishou. He never alludes to either the original or doppel's whereabouts if they ask him. He is more of the type to enjoy how things playout for the good or dangerously bad. If challenged he will not think twice about getting rid of you. There is a reason why he and Nishou connect so well. Never challenge him or disrespect him, he will make sure you regret your actions fully.

Rodney beyond his connections to the doppel has a very dueled nature due to his cultural upbringing. He also lost his mother in his teen years due to a violent disease. As a result of his mother's passing his father took out his sadness and aggression on him. It is hard for Rodney to fully become connected to anyone due to the one person he loved the most leaving his life permanently. There was nothing for him to do, to control the said situation to keep his mother around. Rodney fears connection of any kind.. be it friendship, intimacy, or long-term relationships. He feels, in the end, you will leave him, be it your choice or something natural that he can not physically stop.

Rodney has his own issues beyond childhood trauma that even he can become mentally mudded with. While he vents to Nish about them, he will not go as far as to leave himself emotionally vulnerable. Even if he knows you will never harm him, he just won't trust anyone enough to give you that control over him. Beyond all, his life experience and his culture play a part in his mentality as well. His father stating " A man who cries is weak and is no son of his" has stuck with him throughout his life. You will never see Rodney cry or break down...instead he uses sex, drugs, and liquor as a form of escapism. At best his escapism within kink is one the original vessel will always be confused with. He believes if he consents to pain from time to time that he has some sense of control. A form of control he never had prior. Though he understands this isn't safe for him at best he could care less. Essentially he uses others as a form of self-harm.

Rodney sports a serrated switchblade he nicknamed Regina. He also refers to his blade as she/her. He uses it for fun with lovers as well as protection if anyone tries to step to him sideways. While he's a great physical fighter he enjoys the fear weaponry induces when introduced in a brawl.