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purplesoulcollection · 15 days ago

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Hello, I really like your fanfic about Suho😊🤩😘. I imagine Suho accidentally catching Reader, who is free falling in the air. They don't remember anything about their past. Suho will have to learn how to take care of someone who doesn't even have an ID and there is no missing person news or missing case. The police are also stumped by Reader's case.

Hello, anonym, I tried my very best to fulfill your request. Hope you enjoyed it.

Fallen Angel?!

Aargh--

There was a faint sound that seemed to come from nowhere.

It was the kind of sound that was easy to overlook, too indistinct to pinpoint, so most people simply ignored it because they think it's just an illusion

But Suho caught it—the echo of a scream that felt distant and unstable But he can't pinpoint where did that sound come from the sound echoed faintly in his ears.

Beru, who was with him, also noticed it, his senses heightened at the thought of an impending confrontation.

Suho scanned his surroundings, finding nothing unusual, until he finally glanced up at the sky. That’s when he saw her—a woman plummeting from above, with no tall buildings around to indicate where she might have fallen from.

There was no time to being surprised and ponder how she ended up there; if Suho didn’t act fast, she would hit the ground hard, with no way to soften her fall.

Suho didn't hesitate for a moment as he dashed to save the woman, who was plummeting faster due to the pull of gravity. In his panic, he completely forgot about the Monarch's authority and his own abilities.

With a loud thud, Suho managed to catch her, his body jolting from the sudden weight and force of the fall. Thankfully, he held on tight, letting out a sigh of relief as he realized he hadn’t let her slip away.

If my reflexes hadn’t been quick, I wouldn’t have been able to catch her at all.

Gently, Suho placed the woman on the ground. She was unconscious now, despite having screamed just moments before. Perhaps the shock of her near-death experience had taken its toll.

I was left with a burning curiosity about what had happened to her without nobody I can asked. I can I can rub my hair in annoyance, don't know what to do with this sudden incident.

I analyze the girl appearance further. The beautiful woman had long hair and wore a simple shirt and pants, showing no visible injuries. At first glance, she appeared perfectly normal, but Suho sensed something was off.

He realized that something wasn’t right. With no tall buildings around, there were only two explanations: she had either flown through the sky or had been dropped from above.

"Young master, I believe that she part of itarim, an ordinary human being cannot possibly fall from the sky without knowing where she fell from." Beru wisely tried to persuade Suho that the woman was dangerous and should be killed immediately before causing trouble to his young master.

Suho pondered the possibility that what Beru was said might actually be true.

Beru had a point; ordinary humans typically wouldn’t encounter bizarre occurrences like this, even in a world where dungeons could appear unpredictably.

For an average person lacking special abilities, the worst fate would be to get pulled into a dungeon and perish without a chance to escape. However, falling from the sky certainly indicated that this woman was mixed up in something questionable.

He realized why Beru suggest to kill this woman; there was a desire to protect him from any potential danger, as his responsibility was to accompany and safeguard him on his father's orders, who was far away fighting.

Yet, Suho couldn’t bring himself to do what Beru say, His human sense does not allow that, harm an innocent person who had fainted from shock simply because he suspected she might be connected to Itarim is unacceptable.

He was resolved to grow stronger so he could reunite with his parents, but he also didn’t want to resort to senseless violence against those who were uninvolved.

"No Beru, I won't kill her just because your suspicions. We have to bring her to the hospital to check her condition. Even though he doesn't have any wounds, it's possible the wounds are internal."

He picked her up again in princess style and ignored Beru's protests until he circled around Suho.

Even if she was really part of the itarim, he should at least save this woman's life for interrogation.

It seemed to validate Beru's concerns. The woman's identity remained unverified.

She lacked any personal identification in Korea's advanced system, and there were no missing person reports that matched her description from the internet.

This left Suho feeling overwhelmed; he even reached out to his uncle Yoo Jinho for assistance in allowing the woman to receive treatment without needing to establish her identity.

The risk was significant if it became known that the woman had no identity here. Suho and her could face arrest and deportation without any warning. Indeed, if someone have a connection with powerful people, it can make things easier for the shady things too.

Now, all Suho and Beru could do was wait for the woman to wake up to answer their questions whether she like it or not.

The doctor said that she's fine, but he have to analyze more deeply once she wakes up to see any illness that only appear once she awakes.

Suho was restless, tapping his feet in a display of impatience, while Beru shot disapproving glances at the woman. He was uneasy about leaving potential threats unaddressed, but the young master had made his choice, and all he could do was comply.

As time passed, Suho's anxiety grew when the woman remained unresponsive, despite the doctor assuring them she was fine.

Could he really leave her alone in the hospital? Should he head home and just hope she wouldn’t wake up before he returned?

Perhaps fate was on his side, nudging her back from the depths of unconsciousness.

Both Suho and Beru noticed the woman stirring when her finger twitched, prompting them to ring for the doctor.

The doctor arrived promptly, conducting a thorough examination that included checking her eyes, asking questions, and performing responsiveness tests—leaving Suho and Beru puzzled by the process.

After completing the tests, the doctor approached Suho with a concerned look. "Mr. Suho, we believe the woman you brought in may be suffering from amnesia. She seems unable to recall any events from her life." Suho felt a jolt of shock at the doctor's revelation.

Amnesia?! A mysterious condition that could conveniently obscure someone's past identity. He never imagined he would find himself in such a predicament.

The doctor departed after advising Suho not to pressure the woman into remembering anything and to allow her to remain calm. Suho merely nodded, his attention fixed on the woman, who appeared lost in thought, nobody knows what in her mind.

"Do you even know your name atleast?" Suho's voice emerged slowly, momentarily shattering the silence. The woman, who had been lost in thought, finally turned her gaze toward him for the first time.

Her eyes, filled with confusion, reflected her struggle to process the question Suho had just posed, though she remained silent.

Impatiently, Suho drummed his fingers, eager for a response, but ultimately, she shook her head, signaling her lack of knowledge.

Watching her confused expression and the way she shook her head left Suho feeling uneasy and drained. He took a deep breath, knowing that the challenges ahead would be tough.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to leave this woman, whose identity remained a mystery. The chance that she could be an adversary loomed large. It was up to Suho to keep a watchful eye on her.

"Do you want me to pick a temporary name for you, or would you like to choose one yourself until you can recall something from your past?"

He didn't want to call her this woman all the time, at least if this woman remembered her name, it would make his life a little easier.

Instead of answering, the woman just stared at me, looking puzzled as if she thought I was joking. "Don't you recognize me? Aren't you the one who brought me here?"

"I only brought you here because I found you unconscious. I don’t know you at all."

"Then why not choose a name for me? I'm not sure if the name I come up with will suit me."

"You may have lost your memory, but you still remember that you might not pick a good name?"

"It's just a gut feeling…" The woman turned her gaze away, embarrassed by her struggle to think of a suitable name for herself.

Suho pondered over a fitting name for her. She was a woman with an unknown age and identity, and he didn’t know her well enough to determine if she was part of itarim or not.

However, as an art student, Suho understood that a name plays a significant role in shaping a person's identity, so he took the time to think of a beautiful and appropriate name for her.

"...Name, do you like that name?"

She looks surprised with that name. Her eyes widened and her breath caught, as if I had struck a chord. I noticed the person flinch, scratching at the smooth skin marred by a wound. A nervous sound escaped her lips, leaving me uncertain if I had truly guessed her name.

"I like it. Name, huh?" Those were her first words since waking, her voice raspy from sleep. Perhaps that was why she had been silent at first. I offered her some water and reassured her that I would look after her.

"Suho, help me!" A cry that has echoed in my mind countless times since I chose to care for someone who lost her memory.

Whenever I see her in distress, she ends up shattering something I just cleaned. Perhaps she meant to lend a hand, but it always results in an accident.

This same person, whom I decided to look after, has indeed brought chaos into my life, just as I had anticipated.

I can't tell if she was always this way before her memory loss, but it seems she is quite careless. I have no idea what her life was like before we crossed paths.

When I first welcomed her into my home, her actions turned my home upside down, testing my patience to the limit. It's hard to believe that someone so beautiful struggles to take care of herself.

Honestly, I've grown accustomed to tidying up my own space because the harsh teaching from my parents, unlike my friends, who can be just as messy as she is, but of course less careless as her antics. So when i see her mess, i became more sensitive to it.

I could only tell her to leave the rest to me, and she ran away quickly avoiding my babbling which I was already tired of doing. It's faster if I do it without talking.

I've actually reached the stage where I doubt that she's part of Itarim because she's so careless and she doesn't show any suspicious signs. Maybe she only the ordinary people who was caught in a certain situation that caused her to fall from the sky.

I want to believe from my bottom heart that she's not the worst, that I should fight with. I only hoping that Name is a good person so that we can have good relationship and maybe become closer…

Because even when I mad at her antics to destroy my home, she still accompany me like now, she think she hide herself but i can still see her, peeping with guilty face. I don't feel lonely in this wide home again when my parents being missing and leaving me alone.

Even Beru can't understand this lonely. Because he'll left me once my father call him, to nowhere I don't know.

"Name, do you want to go outside?"

Nama's expression, which had been filled with guilt, instantly transformed into one of joy. Her eyes widened in surprise as he realized I was speaking to him.

"Can I go outside?" she asked, moving closer to me, his excitement palpable after being cooped up for so long since his hospital release.

I nodded; Nama wasn’t a prisoner who needed to be confined all the time. She just had to be cautious about not being discovered without an identity in this world.

"Come with me. I'll take you for a stroll," I said, and his face lit up with a smile.

"That sounds perfect! You have to take me somewhere nice, Suho," she exclaimed joyfully before heading to his room to change into the clothes I had ordered for her online.

Soon, we made our way to the mall and eventually strolled through a park that wasn’t too crowded. Seeing several small children playing together and adults also walking around like us created an indescribably peaceful scene.

I’m really eager to paint this scene, but sadly, I forgot to bring my supplies.

"This is for you," the name rings a bell. I glanced at Nama, puzzled, until I noticed what she was offering.

A drawing book and a pencil. Where did she bring those?

"Suho wanted to draw it, right? Your hands always seem to move when you want to create something. Plus, you’re always painting, so I thought you might need this," she explained to me and i take it.

"But you didn’t bring any paint?" My question made Nama hesitate as she rummaged through her bag, which I assumed held my drawing book earlier.

With a hint of sadness, she looked at me and asked, "Do you need some? You usually just use a pencil, don’t you?"

Seeing her worried expression made me laugh; she really thought I was in trouble. "Just kidding! A pencil is all I need." I waved my pencil dramatically before focusing on capturing the scene.

My pencil danced across the page, creating a sketch until I finally completed it.

"Is it not done yet?" Nama asked, eyeing the unfinished sketch.

"I’ve just made a rough draft; I’ll polish it up at home. If I finish it here, I might not get it done tonight…"

As we walked home, I still had my doubts about Nama’s true identity. I want to believe that her name isn’t tied to Itarim and that I can genuinely like her, but that’s depends in the future that will happen.

For now, i will try to enjoy this company...

The End

Do you like it, whoever request this fic?

#fanfic #x reader #manhwa #manhwa x reader #fem reader #reader insert #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling ragnarok #sung suho #oneshot #solo leveling

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year ago

Text

TAKE CARE OF YOU [8A]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 12,502

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: part one of two! hope you enjoy, if you do let me know your fav part 😘]

Chapter Specific Warning: mentions of attempted sexual assault (not reader), mild violence, mentions of past significant violence, gambling

08: I KNOW HOW TO HANDLE TROUBLE

"the right person for you will be protective of your heart like it's second nature to them." -bliss

The Wynn resort in Las Vegas was a curved bronze hotel right on the strip. The hot Nevada sun seemed to make the building glow, and it only got prettier once you stepped inside. The entire space had glassy, marble floors decorated with splashes of color. Gardens sat inside with trees wrapped in lights and figures of flowers stood out. The atrium itself had spheres of flowers hanging from the trees and you found yourself in awe of the space. Joel had been right. You really liked this place.

“Sugar.” You turned at Joel’s voice, tearing your eyes away from the view, and when you spotted Joel he stood a few feet away with his phone lifted and aimed in your direction. An amused grin flickered across your features as he hummed at his phone. “Hm, yeah. That’s a keeper.”

“You took a picture of me?” You chuckled.

Joel closed the space so he was beside you. “How could I not? You’re gorgeous.” You felt your cheeks heat at his words. Joel stuck his phone into his pocket before offering you his arm. When you looped yours through his, a familiar stance for the two of you, he began to lead you away. “They’re taking our bags upstairs.” He had already reassured you on the way here that though the two of you were sharing a suite it was one with two separate rooms for sleep arrangements. Just as you told Nima, you found yourself both relieved and disappointed.

Feelings were confusing.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat.” You nodded.

“Good. I know a place.”

Said place ending up being a cafe in the casino resort that served a late brunch. When Joel spoke to the host there was no need to ask for a wait time or place his name down. They gave him the choice of indoor or outdoor then walked you in immediately after he chose the outdoor option. The table they offered the two of you was a cute two person seating arrangement on the covered patio under a fan and in view of the elaborate pool. More gardens surrounded the pool itself in the forms of immense and impressive shrubbery and garden paths. The seating around the pool consisted of red and white chairs separated by curtain cabanas that you couldn’t even begin to imagine the price of.

“Do you come to Vegas often?” You asked after a waitress came by and took your orders.

“No. Just for this conference.” Joel shrugged. “It’s an annual thing.” You asked what the conference was about. In all honesty, you didn’t care too much about the specific lectures or meetings he had coming up, but you’d never pass on the opportunity to listen to him talk. “Mostly meetings between different companies. A way to network and bump elbows. A few lectures from some big names on the trendin’ topics in the contractin’ world.”

You beamed at him with a nod. “Very exciting.” Joel chuckled. “How busy is it gonna keep you?”

“Well tomorrow I’ll be busy for most of the mornin’ and afternoon, but I’m free in the evenin’. Then Sunday I have one last meetin’ in the mornin’ and I figure we can do somethin’ in the afternoon before headin’ back home on the jet.”

You leaned forward on the table, head resting on your fists, “And today?”

Joel’s lips curled into a smile that brightened all of his features. It was your favorite look on him. Forget the flannel or the expensive suits, it was that damned smile that put butterflies in your belly. You weren’t sure how a devastatingly handsome older man could also look so boyish and adorable while wearing that charming smile, but by God you were obsessed.

“Today?” Joel reached across the table and brushed his rough fingers against the side of your arm. In response, you let your arm fall from where it held up your head and tangled your fingers with his. Joel squeezed your hand. “Today I’m all yours, sugar.”

You liked the sound of that.

The two of you just enjoyed your uninterrupted time together. When your meal was over, Joel rose and helped you up as well. He didn’t hesitate to pull you close, looping your arm through his, and leading you back toward the lobby. “So,” You leaned into him, “Do we have plans for today?”

“We do.” Joel nodded. “Startin’ with an afternoon poolside.”

Your eyebrows raised in excitement. “Pool?” He hummed in confirmation. You smirked, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me in one of those new swim suits you bought me, daddy.” Standing this close to him, you could see the slight flush of red creep up from the collar of his shirt as he cleared his throat. Joel shot you a dry look. “What’s wrong? Are you getting a little hot under the collar?”

Joel cleared his throat, “You’re trouble, sugar.” He leaned in and suddenly pressed his lips to the side of your head. It was such a chaste and quick moment, yet it stopped your heart in your chest. He left his lips close enough to murmur, “Luckily, I know how to handle trouble.”

“I, uh, I…”

“What’s wrong?” Joel pulled back enough so you could see his smug grin, “Are you gettin’ a bit hot?”

You swallowed, involuntarily, and Joel took that as his victory. He chuckled and dragged you toward the elevators. Your suite was near the top floor of the resort, and when Joel pushed the door open for you the first thing that greeted you was the expansive window that made up the entirety of the wall. Your jaw popped open in shock and your feet carried you closer to the window. The room itself was gorgeous with decor of white and gold, you had never stayed in a hotel room that had an actual living room before, but you could only focus on the view of the Nevada mountains out in the distance. When you reached the glass, you peered down the dizzying drop to where you had a view of the pool and the golf course.

“So pretty…” You mumbled in awe. You spun in place to meet Joel’s gaze, “Isn’t this incredible?”

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. His arms were crossed and you could feel his eyes trace you from head to toe and back up. “Some view.” He kept his gaze on you for a beat while walking toward one of the side doors. Joel opened it and peered in then you heard him curse. “Fuck.”

Curiously, you walked around the couch toward him, “What’s wrong? Did they lose our bags?” You stepped beside him to see what it was that had raptured his attention the way it did, and your eyes landed on the singular Queen sized bed in the center of the bedroom. “Oh.”

“Son of a⏤ I am so sorry.” Joel said quickly before you could push out another word. “I’m gonna fix this.” He went further into the room and grasped the phone at the bedside to immediately bring it up to his ear. A beat passed and he was obviously connected to the front desk. “Hello?”

Your eyes drifted back to the bed and you felt your cheeks warm at the thought of sharing the same bed with Joel Miller. Speaking of the man, he was still arguing over the line and from the sounds of it the argument was not going his way. He seemed desperate to fix this problem and you worried that meant he was desperate to avoid sleeping in the same bed as you.

“No, no, I⏤ I understand that. But I⏤” Joel paused, his jaw locked, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed irritably. “I said I understand that. No, I⏤ Yeah. Thanks anyways.” He hung up the phone and turned back to face you entirely. You shot him a sheepish smile. Joel’s irritation melted into worry and he held his hands up. “I swear, this was not my intention, darlin’. I booked a room with two beds.” Your eyes widened in understanding. Joel was worried you thought he was trying to take advantage. It was a laughable thought that had never even occurred to you⏤ not Joel. Some would call you naive to have such faith in a sugar daddy you hadn’t known for all that long, but it couldn’t be helped. Somehow, you just knew. “The Wynn doesn’t have any other two bed suites available but we can try a different resort or⏤”

“Joel.” You interrupted his nervous rambling and reached out to set your hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. Accidents happen.” Joel’s shoulders seemed to relax. “And as for the, uh, bed situation… I don’t mind.” The words tumbled from your lips slowly, awkwardly even, and Joel just stared. Quickly, you tried to scramble and clarify. “I just mean, it doesn’t bother me to share. We’re both, you know, adults. We can⏤ We can sleep beside one another without issue.” Joel just continued to stare and you were beginning to regret bringing it up at all. You felt silly. In a poor attempt to break the tension, you joked, “I promise I don’t kick in my sleep. I think.”

Joel set his hand on top of yours and squeezed reassuringly. “Of course we can. But, I don’t want you to feel… pressured to just accept this situation.” He spoke firmly leaving no room for argument in his voice. “If even the smallest part of you feels uncomfortable in any way please tell me. We could go to a different resort or, I mean, if you really wanna stick with this place I could get us separate rooms.”

“Really, Joel.” You replied with just as much finality in your voice as he placed in his. “I’m okay with this. It’s not a big deal.” You motioned toward the bed in question. “It’s a big bed.”

Joel let out a small sigh and shook his head. “I’m a… big guy.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but trace Joel’s broad shoulders and tall frame. “As long as you’re comfortable with it too.” Joel held your gaze then gave a nod. A small smile filling his features. “Now, can we get ready for the pool?”

“Yeah. Course.” Joel chuckled and lifted your hand to press his lips against your knuckles.

You had only just gotten used to holding his hand without feeling flustered, and now Joel was pulling out the big guns with these chaste kisses. The smug son of a bitch knew it too based on the smile he wore. Joel handed you your bag and you carried it into the bathroom to change. In your lifetime, you had gotten ready for a pool day God knows how many times. This was one of the first times you felt so nervous though. You loved your body and felt comfortable in your skin, but at the end of the day you were still a human with anxiety. You still couldn’t help that you wanted Joel to look at you and like what he saw.

At the very least you knew he’d like the swim suit itself since he was the one who had been there to buy it for you. Quickly, eager to get to the pool with Joel, you traded your travel clothes for the swim suit and pulled on the matching, thin robe-like cover that he bought with it⏤ leaving it open rather than tying it closed in the front. Then you spent another few minutes checking your appearance in the mirror and adjusting little things like your hair or where the swim suit sat. Finally, when you knew there was nothing left to check, or obsess over, you stepped out of the bathroom.

Joel wasn’t in the bedroom anymore. You set your bag aside and wandered out into the living room following the sound of his voice. He must have gotten changed out in the bedroom while you were in the bathroom. Joel had changed into swim shorts and a white t-shirt. The shorts were dark navy at the top half and a pale yellow on the lower half. You found you couldn’t stop staring because with the way he lounged on the couch, legs spread wide while talking on the phone, you could see his thick thighs. The sight of a man’s thighs should not make you feel so feral, and yet…

“No, the contract needs to be done by then. We can…” Joel’s voice trailed to a stop and your eyes snapped up from his thighs to see he was gawking at you. You bit down on your lower lip to try and mute the wide grin that threatened to fill your features. You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Joel nodded. “You’re a goddamn vision, sugar.” There was no chance at hiding your grin now at his compliment. Joel jumped suddenly in surprise, eyes widening, as his attention went back to the phone he forgot he had been holding. “No, no. Not you, idiot.” You laughed and Joel’s cheeks burned. “Oh, bite me, Tommy.”

Joel hung up the phone and pointed it in your direction while standing up. “That’s your fault.”

“My fault?” You chuckled. “How’s that?”

“How’s that?” He scoffed, but his smile didn’t falter. Joel closed the space so he could reach out and lightly pinch your chin. “Walkin’ in here lookin’ like a work of art.” He shook his head. “Tommy ain’t ever gonna let me live that down.”

Joel’s eyes drifted down your frame again and you felt the back of your neck grow warm. You cleared your throat and his eyes snapped back to you. You smirked. “What’re you staring at, Joel?”

His hand fell away from your cheek to brush his fingers against the sunflower charm hanging from your neck. Joel hummed, “Just this pretty, little necklace, sugar.” You shook your head, amused. Joel stepped away to grab a simple back book bag that he slung over one shoulder. “Now, come on. Pool time.”

Rather than walk you down to the Wynn Resort’s pool, Joel led you to the neighboring resort’s pool. The Encore was identical to the Wynn from the outside and sat right beside it as its sister resort. As you traveled, Joel kept his fingers intertwined with yours. Every time he flexed his grip, you glanced down at where the two of you were connected. It was beginning to feel like your hand was shaped just to fit in his.

“So how come we don’t just stay at the Wynn?” You asked.

“The Encore is newer, and I think you’ll like the pool better here.” Joel replied. You had no room to question his judgment. So far, he was spot on because the interior of the Wynn was much prettier than the interior of the Encore in your opinion. “Plus, this is an adults only pool so we won’t have to worry about any yellin’ or splashin’.”

The moment the two of you stepped outside, you were greeted by a more modern looking pool with chairs and decor in shades of white and a bold red. Palm trees decorated the area and the floor was painted with the design of curling sun rays surrounding the pool. There was even a second story of chairs and lounges. Honestly, Joel either knew you better than you thought he did or the man was a good guess because this was much nicer than the Wynn’s pool. Joel squeezed your hand and you turned to see him watching you. He raised his eyebrows in question and you laughed again.

“Alright, alright. It’s a nice pool but don’t look so smug about it.” You replied. You glanced over the space, “Do you see any open chairs we can grab?”

“Yeah, I do.” Joel nodded, “Come on.”

Unsurprisingly, the pool was packed with people and Joel pulled you closer to his side so he could set his hand on your back while leading you through the throngs of people. You tried to spot the chairs he spoke of, but after a beat you realized he was leading you to one of the fancy looking cabanas. It was an open room built on the lower floor of the two story piece right by the poolside. A red curtain was hanging and draped open and inside was a couch, flat screen television, and a cabinet with a bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket on top. There were even two lounge chairs that could be dragged out into the space directly in front of the cabana where the sun was shining. Your eyes widened, “No way.”

Joel let go of your hand to step into the cabana and set his bag down on the couch. You slowly drifted in behind him and realized the little cabana was even filled with cool air from a large fan overhead. Joel pulled the champagne from the ice and you watched as he cracked it open with ease.

“How much was this, Joel?” You asked.

“Hey,” Joel chided as he turned with two flutes of cold champagne. He handed you one with a shake of his head, “What was the rule we talked about on the way here, sugar?”

During the plane ride to Vegas, Joel told you he didn’t want you asking how much anything cost during the trip. You chuckled and replied teasingly, “Sorry, daddy.” Joel lightly tapped the edge of his flute against yours and you followed his lead in taking a sip. “Mmm. That’s amazing.”

“Only the best for my sugar baby.” Joel replied, making you laugh.

You took another long swig from the flute then motioned to his bag, “Did you grab my sunscreen?” Joel set his flute down to dig through his bag then pulled out the sunscreen you had brought. You had asked him to toss it in with his stuff to keep from having to bring a bag of your own. “Thanks!”

Joel dropped down to sit on the couch. He rested an arm on the back of it with a content smile while staring at you. Biting back any nervous energy that bubbled in your chest, you shrugged out of your thin robe and began to put on the sunscreen. Knowing his gaze was on you, you rubbed it in methodically and tried not to let it be obvious that the butterflies in your belly were threatening to overwhelm you. When you got every spot you could reach with ease, you turned and held the bottle out to Joel, “Can you get my back?”

His eyes widened as if he hadn’t expected you to ask. Joel sat up and threw back the last of his champagne before taking the bottle. He stood up and you turned around. Luckily, not having to face Joel made the action much easier. Joel stood close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your neck and despite the hot weather you felt goosebumps rise on your skin. Joel’s hand settled on your lower back first and he was careful with the application. He rubbed it in your skin, but he did so in a way that made you feel like you were made of glass. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to complain because the more careful he was the slower he worked, and the slower he worked the longer you had his rough hands against your skin.

“There.” Joel hummed. His voice sounded more hoarse than it did when he started. “All protected, sugar.”

You glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze, “Thanks, daddy.” You meant to say the words playfully, but instead they fell out in a soft near whisper. There was a beat of silence between the two of you and you forced yourself to shake out of the trance Joel had you in. “Um. Can you help me drag the lounge chairs out into the sun?”

Joel cleared his throat and nodded, “I can do you one better.”

He grabbed the back of his shirt’s collar to pull out of his shirt and your eyes involuntarily raked down his body. Joel was built strong. From his broad shoulders to the bit of belly he had, it all screamed strength and sturdiness. He tossed his shirt aside then grasped your hand to lead you out, but you dug your heels in to stop him. Joel shot you a curious look.

“You didn’t put on any sunscreen.” You said.

Joel furrowed his brow, “I don’t need sunscreen.”

“You don’t need sunscreen?”

“I’m a big, strong man.” Joel replied teasingly before trying to pull you out of the cabana again.

You tugged him back. “Hey, big strong man, in a fight against the sun you’re gonna lose.” Joel groaned and rolled his eyes in good nature but he allowed you to pull him all the way back in. You made him hold your flute so you could grab the bottle of sunscreen. Quickly, before you lost your nerve, you squirted a glob of sunscreen in your hand and began to rub it into Joel’s skin. He squirmed under your touch and you shot him a mocking glare, “Hey, stay still.”

“Bossy.” Joel snorted.

“Do you like it better when I’m bossy or bratty?” You asked with a cheeky grin. Joel’s lips pulled up into a smile, but he didn’t offer an answer. You used the last bit of sunscreen on your hands to rub onto his features and you finished with your hands on the side of his face. You squished his cheeks together. “There. All protected.”

Joel suddenly turned his face and playfully nipped at your hand with his teeth. You gasped in surprise and he laughed. “Now that we’re safe from the sun, let’s go.” He tangled his fingers with yours and offered you back the flute of champagne you hadn’t finished yet. With a sip, you let him drag you out into the sun. He walked you up to the poolside and stopped at the edge. In the shallow parts of the pool, sitting in the water, were circular cushioned beds with an umbrella situated in the middle of each one. By each beside was a circular stand where drinks could be placed to rest. You stared at, gaping probably, and Joel leaned in toward your ear. “That’s ours too.”

“Seriously?” You asked in surprise. Joel nodded. The urge to ask how much it cost came to mind, but you bit back the words and just grinned instead. Joel walked down the few steps into the shallow water and held your hand to aid you in. “You know,” The cold water came up just past your ankles and you waded with Joel to the daybed reserved for the two of you, “I could get used to this ‘having money’ thing.”

Joel chuckled and dropped down on the bed. He lounged on his back, hands folded behind his head, and stared at you as you settled in beside him. You chose to lay on your belly so you could continue to sip on your champagne.

“Thank you. For all of this.” You said sincerely. Briefly, you chewed on your lower lip then gave a small shrug, “I haven’t had a pool day in nearly a year let alone go on an actual vacation.”

Joel shook his head, “Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’. You’re doin’ me the favor.”

The two of you just relaxed, letting the heat seep into your skin, and when you were on your last sip of champagne a poolside waitress walked over with a smile to see if the two of you needed any drinks. Joel sat up and ordered two frozen drinks. You chuckled, “You’ve kept a drink in my hand since the moment we landed.” You tilted your head. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get me tipsy, Joel.”

“Me? Never. I’m a gentleman.” Joel shook his head. He smirked and nodded toward you. “Besides, you’ve already felt me up, and I didn’t even need to get you tipsy.”

Your eyes widened and you reached out to give him a light shove, “I was not ‘feeling you up’. I was saving you from a future of being a leathered, sun shriveled old man.”

“If that’s what you gotta tell yourself.” Joel shrugged.

You laughed and Joel began to lay back down. Before he could get comfortable, you pointed to the umbrella, “Wait, can you close the umbrella?” Joel shot you a confused look as if you were crazy for asking. You shrugged. “I just want some sunshine for a little bit.”

“You’re all the sunshine we need right now.” Joel said and reached out to pinch your cheek.

“That is an adorable excuse.” You spoke despite him pinching your cheek, and Joel chuckled before reaching up to close the umbrella. Bright sunlight immediately rained down on the two of you and the direct warmth on your skin made you beam happily. As hot as it was, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand the sunlight for very long, but it felt nice for the time being.

Joel grunted and rolled over onto his belly so he could keep the sun out of his eyes, “What do you say?” You slid a pair of sunglasses on and laid on your back while humming⏤ pretending to think of what answer he might want. Joel propped himself up just enough to rest one of his arms on your other side so he was leaning over you. You sucked in a sharp breath at his close proximity, and he raised an eyebrow at you. “Manners, sugar.”

“Thank you, daddy.” You cooed.

“Good girl.”

You tightened the fluffy, white robe that the Wynn resort left you in the suite’s bathroom then stepped out fresh and clean, “Joel! I’m done with the shower.” The two of you had stayed out at the pool until it closed. Being out in the hot sun the entire afternoon had wiped you out, but Joel told you to get ready for a night out and you found your second wind. Joel wandered into the bedroom, and you groaned happily, “You’re in for a treat because the water pressure was incredible.”

“I would hope so.” Joel chuckled then his eyes narrowed skeptically. “Do you have bad water pressure in your apartment?”

“Uh…” You paused in thought. You had a feeling that if you confirmed that information then Joel would try to buy you a new apartment or something equally as wild. “...no?” Joel shot you a skeptical glance that made it clear he didn’t believe you. He disappeared into the bathroom, and you quickly called out. “Oh, wait! Pick a color, Joel!”

Without hesitation, Joel replied through the door, “Red!”

Excitedly, you shimmed off the bed to hurry over and dig out the red cocktail dress Joel had bought you for Vegas. Of the newest additions to your wardrobe, the red dress you had picked out was one of your favorites. You wondered if he remembered that. While Joel showered, you pulled out the ironing board to smooth out any of the wrinkles your dress had gotten during transit. It didn’t take much and you were about to put away the iron when you paused. Joel’s suitcase sat near yours in the room. You bit down on your lower lip for a beat before walking over to find a shirt for him.

You picked out a black button up shirt to match the black blazer he had already hung up. The ‘black out’ look on him just seemed like it would be clean and handsome. Not that you could picture many looks not looking incredible on him. The bathroom door opened and Joel stepped out in just a towel. The back of your neck warmed and you tried not to let your eyes linger. Obviously you had seen him shirtless poolside, but this felt more intimate.

“Why don’t you get changed in the bathroom and I can get ready out here⏤” Joel paused and pointed to the ironing board. You finished the last few passes of the iron over his shirt. “Is that mine?”

“Well, it’s not mine.” You replied and picked up his shirt to shake it a bit. You held it out to him with a broad smile.

Joel took the shirt from you and you were acutely aware of his lingering touch on your hand. “This my color for the night, sugar? Black?” You nodded with a wide grin. Joel gave you a nod of confirmation and you scooped up your dress to head to the bathroom. “Alright. Black and red it is.”

You glanced over your shoulder to allow yourself one last look of Joel and seeing the bare expanse of his back made your heart flutter in your chest. The image of it lingered in your mind even after you closed the door. You made the effort to commit it to memory.

It didn’t take you too long to get ready and it was in part due to how eager you were. Joel had been tight lipped the entire afternoon about the plans for the evening. No matter how much you pleaded or begged he wouldn’t even give you a hint. All you knew was that he had an entire night planned for the two of you. Not even accounting for the amount of money involved in all of this, the fact that Joel had the thought to plan a night for you was heartwarming. It was a reminder that your bar was set so low due to your last boyfriend. You had to plan nearly every single trip or date night, and you had convinced yourself you enjoyed it. Tricked yourself into thinking you preferred it that way instead of admitting that it was a problem.

You rubbed your hands down the front of your red dress⏤ smoothing it out and giving you something to do with your nervous energy. You stepped out of the bathroom, expecting Joel to be sitting in the living room waiting for you or on his phone, but your feet faltered at the sight of him sitting on the edge of the bed. Joel ran a hand over his jawline, fingers dragging through his scruff. He stood up and the two of you spent a quiet moment just staring at one another. Just as you knew it would, the black shirt and black suit combo was deadly on Joel. This time you beat Joel to the punch.

“Hot damn, Joel.” You grinned. He cleared his throat and the look on his face could only be described as flustered. Eager to flip the table on him and do what he always did to you, you walked to him and reached out to smooth his lapel, feeling his chest under it, “This is a real good look on you, daddy.”

The sound that left him, almost a choking noise at the back of his throat, made you feel smug. He shook his head slowly and didn’t let his eyes leave you for even a second. “Oh, sugar,” Joel hummed, “I don’t hold a flame to you. I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?” You asked.

“How every time I look at you, you somehow get even more breathtakin’.” Joel replied.

Heat rose in your cheeks and crawled up the back of your neck. Damn it all. Every time you think you had the tables flipped he managed to get the upper hand again. You let out a laugh and tried to hide how flustered you felt, “No fair.” Joel smirked as if he knew exactly what you were getting at. You gave his chest a slight push, but he caught your hands to hold them there. You shook your head, “Can you let me have the upper hand just one time?”

Joel breathed out a small laugh, and he opened his mouth to reply. However, he stopped himself and closed his mouth with an amused smile. You tilted your head curiously, but Joel just slipped his hand through yours. “Ready to go?”

“Do I get to know where we’re going now?”

“You’ll find out as soon as we get there.”

“Very funny.”

The same car that drove you from the airport to the Wynn also picked you up. When it came to the Vegas strip, there were some resorts that were within walking distance from where you were located, but Joel’s first plan of the night was not. You stared out the window marveling at the tall buildings covered in gigantic screens showcasing an ad or show. Even the sidewalks had plenty of things to watch. Tourists, showgirls, people performing, and some even dressed up in character suits. There was one rough looking Mickey Mouse the car passed that gave you a look into what the famous mouse’s life would look like if he got deep in the world of hard drugs.

“Oh,” You tore your eyes away from the window to look at Joel who sat beside you in the back of the car with his arm resting on the seat behind you, “Is that where they do that big fountain show?”

Joel nodded, “Bellagio. Yeah. We can stop and watch it later tonight. They do a show every thirty minutes I think.”

The car turned off the strip to a resort that sat just off it by a bit. The Aria. It looked as immense and fancy as any of the other resorts and was even shaped similarly to the Wynn and the Encore. Joel let his hand brush against the back of your neck and you knew he wanted you to stay in place while he climbed out. Seconds later, your door opened and Joel held out a hand to help you climb out.

“What’s so special about the Aria?” You asked.

Joel laced his fingers through yours and pulled you toward the resort doors. The lobby was a large open space with pillars, and your eyes landed on a wave of hand folded origami flowers in a gradient of red, pink, and orange hanging from the glass ceiling. You paused, jaw slightly open as you admired the sight, and Joel just waited patiently. Finally, you tore your eyes away from the origami flowers to look at him.

“We have dinner reservations here.” Joel answered.

You raised an eyebrow at him with a smirk, “We came all the way here just for dinner?”

Joel didn’t give you a reply, and you noticed he looked excited. You squeezed his hand and let him lead you deeper into the resort. In order to get where you were going, the two of you had to walk through the casino and it was fun to see the flashing lights and general buzz of excitement. The air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, and there were different degrees of yelling and cheering. You were so caught up in your surroundings that you hadn’t noticed Joel and you reached your destination until he came to a stop.

You glanced at Joel who continued to beam at you, and then looked forward to where a simple arch sat with the word ‘CATCH’ written in bright, glowing letters above the top. It was what laid just beyond the arch that had your breath catch in your throat. The arch was the entrance to a tunnel and even from where you stood you could see the entire tunnel was made up of different flowers and glowing lights.

Joel leaned over, his lips close enough to your ear that you could feel his breath fan against your skin, “It didn’t feel right not bein’ able to get you a bouquet of flowers before dinner so I thought I’d just bring you to ‘em.”

You felt a visceral reaction to Joel’s words. Your throat tightened, and a part of you wanted to cry. It took every ounce of your self control to not actually let any tears fall. It was just so sweet and you felt so seen and cared for. “Joel.” You mumbled and turned your head to look at him. He was still lingering close to where he had whispered in your ear which left you dangerously close to his face. You swallowed, “Joel, this is…”

His eyes darted across your features, lingering at your eyes and lips, “Wanna take a closer look, sugar?”

Your face broke out into a face splitting grin and you nodded. Joel hesitated in place, taking in a slow breath, before pulling away so he could drag you through the arch. He let his own steps slow while you continued forward a bit. Your hand fell out of his, but your eyes were taking in the hanging flowers overhead and the colorful walls on either side of you. The air was filled with a sweet, floral scent and a soft, golden glow surrounded the space from the lights buried between the flowers. It took half a beat before you realized Joel wasn’t by your side, and you quickly turned in place to look for him. He stood a few feet back, hands in his pocket, just staring with a small smile on his face.

“What?” You asked with a laugh.

“Nothing.” Joel closed the space.

As soon as he was close enough, you looped your arm through his. The two of you took a few more steps down the wood panel path that led through the tunnel and a portion off to the side curved inward with a long half circle bench nestled against the wall and a wall of pink, orange, and red roses covering that indent of the wall.

“Oh!” You pulled him toward the bench and dropped down there with him beside you. “Can we take a picture?” You pulled your phone out. “Please?”

“I can take your picture for you.” Joel replied.

You shook your head and held onto his arm. “I want you to be in it too.”

Joel looked skeptical for only a moment. He never seemed the selfie kind to you, but he leaned in regardless. You lifted your phone to take a few snaps. Joel had one arm around your shoulders during most of the pictures, but near the end he used his other hand to cup the side of your face to pull him closer. Joel turned and pressed his lips to your temple and you managed to get a few snaps of that as well. Your chest was filled with so much warmth and happiness that you didn’t have the room to feel flustered.

You stood up with Joel and he tugged you to the end of the tunnel where a maitre’d stood waiting. The first part of the restaurant you could see was a large bar surrounded by people. Joel had the two of you pause by the front desk.

“Welcome Miller party.” The maitre’d asked. Joel nodded. “Your table is being cleaned off and prepared now. If you’d like to wait by the bar, your waitress will fetch you soon.”

“Thanks.” Joel dug through his coat pocket and you saw him pull out a few folded bills that he slipped into the other man’s hand. “And thank you for clearin’ the tunnel.”

“Of course, sir.”

It dawned on you then, and you glanced back to see the tunnel was now filled with small parties and couples. “Wait, did you pay him to let us be the only ones?”

Joel shrugged and rather than answer he stepped up to the bar with you by his side and ordered himself a glass of whiskey and your typical drink of choice. He kept one hand on the small of your back while you leaned against the bar. When the drinks came, Joel lifted his glass just high enough to allow you to tap yours against his. He winked as the glasses made contact, “Cheers, sugar.”

You moved to take a sip and your drink had only barely touched your tongue when a waitress came over calling out for Joel. He nodded for you to follow first so he could linger a step behind you with his hand on your waist. The table you were led to was a circular booth and it was one of the few tables decorated in excess. The booth looked like it was nestled inside a large bird cage with a broad open door, and woven between the metal bars were vines and string lights. You slid into the booth, setting your glass on the table to avoid spilling it, and Joel slid in after you.

“Joel, this place is…” You let out a breath, unable to grasp a word immediately, “...amazing. Thank you.”

“Stop thankin’ me for somethin’ I like doin’.” Joel chuckled. He draped his arm on the top of the booth behind you and let his fingers brush lightly against your shoulder.

“You like spending absorbent amounts of money on me?” You teased.

Joel leaned over a bit and lowered his voice, sincerity in his voice, “I like takin’ care of you.” It should probably concern how easily Joel was able to make your temperature rise. Literally all it took was a look, the sound of his voice, or just being in near proximity. He straightened back in his seat. “Now,” Joel picked up his glass and took a quick sip, “Is there anythin’ you always wanted to do while in Vegas?”

You hummed in thought. The fountains had already been mentioned. That seemed like a staple Vegas activity. “I wanna see a show.”

“Already on the agenda.”

“Wait, really?” Your eyes widened. “What show??” Joel just stared at you with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. It’s a surprise.” You took a sip of your own drink. “I want to gamble.”

Joel chuckled, “Gamble?” You nodded. “Gamble how? Slots or a table game?”

“I want to play the one where you throw dice.”

“Craps.”

“Yeah, that!” You nodded. “Everybody does that while they’re in Vegas, right?”

“Fair enough.” Joel said. “Anythin’ else?”

Another thought came to mind, but it felt kind of silly. “There was this one other thing…”

“Name it, sugar.”

You scrunched your nose. “Can we go on the gondolas? I know it’s probably dumb since it’s not even a real river and it’s just inside one of those big resorts, but I don’t know… It looked kind of fun.”

Joel let out a breathy laugh before dropping his hand so instead of soft brushes he was able to squeeze your shoulder, “We can absolutely ride the gondolas.”

You bounced in your seat, excited, as Joel shook his head in amusement. The waitress came back to discuss the specials of the night. After a quick discussion, Joel ordered for the both of you. It was something you learned early on with the man. He enjoyed leading. Whether it be the obvious thing like paying for everything or having you wait in the car so he could open the door for you or ordering your food and drink for you. Joel just liked being in charge of the relationship and you had no qualms with that. Especially considering how careful and caring he was in the action. He paid attention to you, the things you did or the words you said, in order to take charge accordingly. As sad and pathetic as it was, Joel remembered more about you and your preferences than your ex-boyfriend did at the end of your relationship with him.

Content and at ease, you settled in your seat and let out a soft sigh.

The night went by too quickly for your liking. Dinner, just like everything with Joel, was easy. You had never met someone who made you feel so comfortable, so seen, so fast. And after he treated you to one of the best meals you ever had, the two of you traveled to the MGM resort for the show which turned out to be a show by the name of ‘KA’. Joel said he chose it off the recommendation of one of the business men he’d be working with in the morning, and it had been a solid choice. The show went beyond your expectations and you had already set them pretty high considering it was Cirque du Soleil and in Vegas. Then, rather than take the car, the two of you walked down the strip with your arm wrapped through his. The walk consisted of two stops, one at the fountains to watch the show, and the other at the Venetian resort to ride in the gondolas.

“Joel, this has literally been the greatest night ever.” You gushed while squeezing his arm. The two of you had walked from the Venetian back to the Wynn. His black suit jacket hung on your shoulders after he had given it to you during the gondola ride.

Joel chuckled, “Literally?”

“Yes.” You said. “I am being literal, thank you.”

“Well, sugar, you know me.” Joel lifted one of your hands to press his lips to the back casually. “Always happy to provide.”

He continued to lead you into the resort without even realizing how earth shattering his presence was to you. Joel kept your arm wrapped through his with his hand intertwined with yours and held to his chest. It was such an intimate gesture that he did so casually⏤ as if it were second nature to him. The urge to stop in your tracks and pull him into a kiss was nearly overwhelming. In fact, if you had maybe even one more drink tonight it would’ve been enough liquid courage to convince you. However, anxiety still plagued your mind. Logic tried to reign in your feelings and remind you of all the reasons this was a bad idea. Even if you ignored the nearly two decade large age gap between the both of you, there were still enough reasons for your brain to try and stop you.

If you could quiet your logical and turbulent mind for just a moment, just long enough to allow your heart to act, then maybe these fears and anxieties wouldn’t matter.

The two of you were walking through the casino to get to the elevators that would take you upstairs. You continued to stare while focusing on the circles his thumb was tracing on the back of your hand. God, you wanted this man. If he could make you feel so happy, so good about yourself, in public with innocent touches and glances, you wondered how incredible he could make you feel behind closed doors. You craved his touch, his rough hands grasping at all of you, and you were desperate enough to trade your soul just to feel his hot mouth exploring your skin.

Joel’s eyes suddenly met yours and you sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. Heat flooded your cheeks in embarrassment as if he could hear your sinful thoughts about him. Joel gave you a quick wink and nodded, “One last stop.”

He tugged you off the path that carved through the casino and onto the actual casino floor. The slot machines around you were a sea of colors, flashing lights, and whistling tunes. Servers drifted about bringing drinks to those sitting at the machines, but Joel led you past all of them. The two of you approached the section that had the table games, and you spotted the one with the dice.

“Oh!” You chirped in recognition. “We’re gonna play?”

“You said you wanted to.” Joel countered. The table wasn’t very crowded right now. Save for the casino employees, there was two other people standing around the table playing. You felt a sense of anxiety creep up your spine. You were vaguely aware that the rules for these table games were very strict and there were also unspoken rules of conduct. “Here.” Joel reached toward you and stuck his hand in the inner pocket of his jacket which hung off your shoulders. He fished out a few hundreds that you couldn’t help but stare at. Joel pushed two hundred dollars in your hand. “Just like me, sugar.”

He placed the bills on the table top with his ID card and you hurried to copy him. Between dice rolls, the man running the table pulled your bills toward him and began to prep your chips. You leaned over and whispered, “Joel, I have no idea how to play this.”

“It’s easy.” He reassured you. You glanced at the very confusing green felt covered in different words and numbers then back to him skeptically. Joel chuckled and tapped under your chin with his hand. “I promise.”

Joel began to point out different portions of the table, and between the warm honey tone of his words and the multiple drinks you had throughout the night, you were not following whatsoever. You stared at him, nodding every few seconds, while admiring the lines of his face. People wrote poems and sung praises about blue and green eyes, but you were convinced it was because those people were never blessed with the opportunity to gaze into Joel Miller’s eyes. There was a warmth in the dark color of his irises that felt like coming home after a long day in the cold. Your eyes flickered to a small bare spot in his scruffy jawline that vaguely resembled a heart and you resisted the urge to lean forward and place a kiss right there. Why else would the otherwise perfect man in front of you have that space in his beard if not for your lips?

“You’re not hearin’ a damn thing I’m sayin’, are you?” Joel teased.

You blinked in surprise and watched as his lips stretched into a bright smile, “Uh, I’m listening.”

“Right. What did I just say about the ‘Come bet’?”

“That…it’s… better than a ‘Leave bet’?” You joked.

Joel barked out a laugh and the sound made your stomach flip. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. You were savoring the feel of his lips on your skin, when he turned you back to the table where a stack of chips were waiting for you. He slid two green chips into the box labeled ‘Pass Line’. You quickly mimicked his actions. Joel scooped up the dice, nodding at the man running the table, and then set them in your hands. “You’re the shooter, sugar.”

“Me?” Your eyes widened in worry.

“7 or 11.” Joel winked.

You took half a second to stand in shock at how your life had brought you to this point right here, and then you dove right in. You tossed the red dice and they bounced across the table before landing on a four and a three. The other two people at the table clapped their hands and Joel gave your elbow a squeeze.

The table slowly began to fill up, and you were a firm believer in the concept of ‘beginner’s luck’. You still only had a vague understanding of the game, but every time it was your time to be the shooter you were on a roll. It was exciting to have strangers cheering you on as well and as time passed you began to get more confident with how you tossed the chips around. Again, your knowledge on the actual rules were scarce, but you were pushing around higher number chips than Joel was. As the man running the table began to prep chips for a new player who settled in beside you, you turned to smirk at Joel.

“I’m doing pretty good.” You motioned to your decent stack of chips.

“Better than me.” Joel smirked.

Your pile was currently larger than Joel’s, but he seemed more concerned in keeping an eye on you than winning back his money. Teasingly, you leaned forward to let your lips linger by his ear, “If I win big, I promise to take care of you, baby.”

Joel laughed loudly and shook his head, “Just roll your dice.” You bounced in place just a bit before throwing the dice across the table. It landed on a total of seven which was not what you needed at the moment and it ended your roll. You groaned with the rest of the table, and Joel leaned into you this time. “Looks like I don’t need to worry none. Disappointed?”

“Nah.” You shook your head and locked your eyes with his. “I like being your sugar.”

“Good.” Joel’s dark eyes lingered on yours before dropping to your lips and bouncing back up. It was enough to make you release a small gasp, and he must have heard the sound because he smirked.

Your elbow suddenly brushed against something behind you, and it broke the spell. Joel leaned back and it was only then you realized how close the two of you had drifted toward one another. You cleared your throat and glanced at the man on your other side, assuming you had bumped into him while getting lost in the tempting vortex that was Joel, “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No, no. No worries, sweetheart.” The man replied. He was probably a few years older than you, if you garnered a guess, and he was decent looking but certainly not anything to write home about. Absolutely plain standing beside someone like Joel. He lifted his hand to your face, making you flinch, and opened his fist to reveal the dice, “Blow me?”

“What?” You blurted in shock.

“Watch it.” Joel snarled from behind you. His chest pressed against your side, and when you glanced over you saw the warmth in his eyes had turned dangerous. Not a comforting flame in the fireplace after a long day, but a raging wildfire licking at the edge of the forest⏤ threatening to destroy. Joel glared at the man and if looks could kill then he’d be struck down by now.

“I’m just talking about the dice.” The guy chuckled. He winked at you, and you blanched in disgust. “Relax.”

The rest of the table, including a few of his friends on the other side of him, began to goad him into rolling the dice. Joel was still stiff, and you set a hand on his forearm in hopes to calm him. Joel’s eyes snapped to yours and you watched the anger simmer. You gave him a reassuring smile. One stupid jerk wasn’t going to ruin the night for you. Joel nodded once and began to move around you. At first, you thought he was going to place himself in between you and the guy, but instead he settled behind you. Joel pressed his chest against your back, setting a hand on your abdomen to pull you closer, and then let his hands fall to the tables’ sides⏤ successfully blocking you in.

You couldn’t even focus on if Joel was still upset because every single ounce of your mind was redirected to keeping your body from spontaneously combusting. His stance around you was dizzying. Protective. Intimate. Possessive. Joel was stamping a claim on you, a warning to the man who accosted you, and you found it extremely attractive. Months ago, you would have firmly stated that you were a strong, independent woman who didn’t want nor need a man that took control or showed any signs of being overprotective. However, you would commit atrocities if it meant hearing Joel call you his.

Joel leaned his head down on your shoulder just enough to whisper, “You alright, sugar?”

Other than possibly going into a heart arrhythmia from his proximity, you were just fine, “Yeah. I’m okay, Joel. Don’t worry.” You felt him nod and then he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. You audibly gasped, “Oh God.”

“What was that?” Joel asked.

“Nothing.” You blurted. His head was still hovering over your shoulder and you stayed stock still to avoid accidentally brushing any part of you against him. You heard Joel chuckle lightly before he straightened his posture.

With Joel nearly wrapped around your body, it was easy to fall back into ease as the game went on. You weren’t really winning much more money, but you also weren’t significantly losing either. Just bouncing back and forth enough to maintain the same amount of chips. Between that and the feel of Joel’s breaths on your neck, you were ready to call it a night.

You turned your head to speak to him and realized how close he still stood then. Your nose was only an inch or so away from brushing against his jawline. You swallowed the lump in your throat and found the courage to not pull away. “Can we call it a night? Go back to the room?”

Joel turned his head and the slow way his jawline ended up rubbing against the top of your nose softly seemed deliberate. He gave you a small smile and nodded. “Course.” Joel held his position for a beat more before pushing away from you so he could speak to the man running the table. “We’re out.”

You took in a shuddering breath as Joel got the chips converted to the highest amount possible so it’d be easier to carry. Your anxiety had a bad habit of making you overthink and underplay everything against your favor, but even for you it was difficult to ignore Joel’s behavior tonight. He seemed genuinely interested. Nima had encouraged you to chase what made you happy, and Joel made you happy. There was no doubt there. Anticipation began to build in your chest as you hyped yourself up to make a move tonight. You took a chance and said yes to being his sugar baby in the first place.

You just needed to take a chance again.

Joel turned back to you and he slipped a few black chips into his coat’s inner pocket before wrapping his arm around your shoulders to tug you into his side. You mimicked his action, holding yourself close to him, and the two of you only got a few steps away before the same obnoxious voice from earlier wolf whistled behind you.

“Damn, look at that ass.” The guy from earlier stumbled a step closer as his friends behind him tried to reel him back desperately. “How much do you charge a night? I’ll pay double whatever the old man is paying you.”

You stiffened at the words. They hit a little too close to home. You usually were able to easily let the drunk, stupid words of some obnoxious asshole roll off your back. Unknowingly though, the man had dug a knife into an already sore subject in your mind. In your spiraling panic, you didn’t realize the man was reaching for you until Joel was suddenly gone from your side.

Without a word, Joel slammed his fist into the man’s face then grabbed him by the lapels of his sport coat before he could collapse. The man’s friends were trying to stop the attack while calling out apologies, but their attempts were fruitless. Joel lifted the man up off the ground enough to throw him over the edge of the craps table, making chips fly across the green felt as others around the table screamed in alarm, and Joel punched the man twice more before security swarmed the scene.

“Joel!” You cried out and tried to reach him, but a man in a dark suit and badge held you back.

They separated the fight easily and when Joel was pulled back away from the now groaning guy who was still laid up on the craps table, you saw real rage burning in Joel’s dark eyes. You had never seen his features twisted in anger and loathing before. Security dragged the guy off the table and took him and his friends toward the front of the resort while ushering for you and Joel to follow them in the opposite direction. Joel’s eyes snapped to meet yours and you watched as his anger melted into worry and concern. He shoved a security guard out of his way to reach you and one hand shot up to rest protectively on the back of your neck as his eyes scanned your face.

“Hey, are you alright?” Joel asked nervously. Unable to find words, you gave him a meek nod and his shoulders sagged in relief. The lead security guard cleared his throat and Joel kept his hands on you while following after the man. When the small grouping of people reached the edge of the casino floor, Joel spoke up. “That piece of shit better be out on his ass.”

“He has been forcibly removed from our premises and I do apologize for the duress.” The lead security, his badge read ‘T. Gordon’, turned to you with a slight nod. “Are you okay, miss?”

“Oh, uh, I’m fine.” You replied.

“Good.” Gordon focused back on Joel. “As regrettable as this scenario was, fighting is strictly prohibited⏤”

“If you kept assholes like him from gettin’ so wasted then maybe I wouldn’t have had to start nothin’.” Joel snapped. “He was gonna try and touch her.”

“Right, and because of that we will not be restricting your access to the resort.” Gordon said. “That being said, I will have to limit your access to the casino floor. The Wynn has a strict policy. That gentleman will never be welcome on our property again, and you will be suspended for the next three months.”

“Fine. Can we go?”

Gordon motioned for the two of you to wait while he fetched some paperwork for Joel to sign. Your eyes darted down to Joel’s dominant hand, the one not wrapped around your waist, and it was still balled into a tight fist. There was a redness to the knuckles that made you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Joel’s attention snapped to you in alarm.

You reached for his hand and cradled it in yours, studying the gash and early bruising, “You’re bleeding, Joel.”

“It’s not a big deal.” He tried to pull his hand away, but you held on tighter and he sighed. “Really. Doesn’t even hurt.”

Your thumb brushed the edge of the discoloration and his nose twitched with a slight wince. You shot him a light glare, “Liar.” Joel’s own lips curled into a small smile and you shook your head. “What? Don’t smile at me. I’m worried about your hand.”

“I know.” Joel replied softly. He turned his gaze away from you and his next words fell out in a slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Gordon returned a second later and you were forced to release his hand so he could sign the paperwork stating he understood his punishment. You were just happy that the police didn’t need to be involved. Joel began to lead you toward the elevators, which weren’t far from where you stood now. It didn’t take long to get to the room, and the moment you stepped through the threshold you pushed him toward the couch to sit. Quickly, you shrugged out of his jacket and fetched a rag to run under cold water.

Joel was slumped in his seat with his head leaning back and his arm draped over to cover his eyes. You sat down beside him, on his left and close enough that your thigh pressed against the side of his, then carefully pulled his arm away from his face so you could take his hand in yours. Joel blinked his eyes open at you while you carefully began to dab at the gash on his knuckles.

“I’m so sorry.” Joel sighed.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I lost my temper.” He shifted so rather than slumped back he was sitting upright. Joel’s fingers wrapped around the hand holding his up while your other continued to clean his injury. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

“Joel…”

“When I’m around you,” Joel paused and took in a slow breath, “I get to be one of the best versions of myself. Carefree. Happy. That’s what I want you to see. Not angry or grumpy or stressed⏤ Just… I don’t want…”

It seemed he couldn’t find the end of his thoughts. You paused in cleaning his wound to just squeeze his hand in reassurance. “I don’t want just the best of you, Joel. I want to know all of you. Good and bad.” Joel’s gaze softened and the way he stared at you, with blatant adoration even the worst of your anxiety couldn’t deny, made your chest fill with warmth. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“How’d I get so lucky to find you, sugar?” Joel asked quietly.

“Easy.” You offered him a smile and shrug, “You left your wallet at home, daddy.”

Joel laughed and the sound of it felt victorious. You liked being able to cheer him up. A knock at the door made you rise from the couch. Joel tried to stop you so he could go, but you brushed away his hand with a chuckle. At the door, a waiter stood holding a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of wine. You took it from him questioningly and walked back into the living space.

“What is it?”

You read the card tied to the side, “‘Please accept this wine as an apology for tonight’s disturbance.’” Your eyes widened and you stared at Joel in shock. “Seriously? You punch a guy and the hotel apologizes to you?” Joel motioned for you to get closer and you walked over to settle back in the seat you had been in. Joel pulled the bottle from the bucket to read it. “You rich people, I swear.”

“Wow. This is a pricey bottle.” Joel hummed. “I don’t know a lot of wines, but Sarah likes this one. I buy it for her every year for her birthday.”

You scooped up some of the ice to set in the rag, a smile on your features. You always loved hearing details of Joel’s home life. It wasn’t like he was hiding anything from you, he spoke freely about his daughters, but every little detail you learned solidified the image of the doting and loving father Joel truly was. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t an extremely attractive trait of his.

With your makeshift ice pack, you shifted in place so you could settle it on his knuckles. Joel hissed at the cold and set the bottle down. His hand was resting in your lap so neither of you had to hold it up and his close proximity was making your heart race.

“You know,” You chuckled, “Nobody’s ever punched someone to defend my honor, like that before. Is it wrong that I kind of liked it?”

“Not wrong.” Joel shook his head. “But you’ve really never had to deal with an asshole like that before?”

You scoffed with a laugh. “I’ve dealt with assholes like him my whole life. I’m a breathing woman who lives in LA. I can’t walk down the street without getting catcalled or yelled at.”

Joel’s brows furrowed in confusion, “You were datin’ someone before me though, right?” You nodded in confirmation. “He never…?”

“Nathan wasn’t big on violence of any kind.” You shook your head. A memory tumbled out from your lips before you could even stop it. “I got groped once at a bar we went to. Some guy grabbed my chest and Nate scolded him and then the two of them started talking about some baseball game.”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“Nope.”

Joel muttered under his breath a string of curses. His hand slid to rest on your mid thigh and he gave it a comforting squeeze. “I know technically the answer should be non-violence, so I’m probably the bad guy for sayin’ this, but I would’ve ripped that guy’s head off.” Based on what you saw this evening, you believed him, and still you only found comfort in it. “The world’s a goddamn mess and that kid you dated was a coward for not standin’ up for you. That’s the least a man could do for a woman he loves.” You felt your heart skip a beat at his insinuation. Joel didn’t love you. It was way too soon for him to feel any kind of way close to that, but to hear you were in the group of people he cared enough about to protect still made you feel some kind of way yourself. “Not that women can’t protect themselves.” Joel was near ranting now. “I made sure Sarah and Ellie could hold their own. Basic self defense, teachin’ ‘em how to handle a weapon, a kickboxin’ class here or there. But still… The thought that you got assaulted and your ex-boyfriend just thought to be chummy with the guy pisses me the fuck off.”

There was an edge to his voice, and you could see the haunted look of a past memory lingering in his eyes. You melted into the couch, closer to him, and Joel squeezed your thigh once more. “I’m okay, Joel. Everything is fine, and I’m safe. We’re safe.” You lifted the ice pack just enough to give his skin a break from all the cold. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Just…” Joel shook his head. “Bad memory.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Joel hesitated for a moment before sighing, “It was a long time ago. I took the girls campin’. Ellie was fourteen. Just a kid. Not even old enough to drive.” His thumb was tracing a line back and forth against your thigh as he recounted his past. “We were settin’ everything up, I looked away for a minute⏤ just a minute⏤ and she was gone. I left Sarah with Tess, called the cops, then Tommy and I were tearin’ apart the woods lookin’ for her.” Joel carried a tension in his shoulders as he spoke and you leaned in closer to him to offer physical reassurance without interrupting him. “I heard Ellie scream. That sound… it’s carved into my very soul. I’ll never forget it. I found her in this beat up RV by the lake. Some sick son of a bitch had snatched her and was tryin’ to…” Joel locked his jaw. Silence settled between the two of you for a moment. Your heart ached for him and it ached for his daughter. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the horror. Joel shook his head finally. “Ellie’s a fighter. She always has been. Arguably to a fault.” He let out a sad chuckle at the praise, but it faded. “She had clawed his face up, broke his finger, hell, she even managed to bite off the upper part of the bastard’s ear… Ellie held him off, and I got there in time. When I saw him though…” Joel squeezed your thigh and this time he didn’t let up. “God, I saw red, darlin��. Ripped him off her and nearly killed him. I would’ve except I heard Ellie cryin’ and I stopped to grab her. Cops showed up around then. Sick bastard was lucky it was the cops and not Tommy. Tommy wouldn’t have stopped me. Not for that.”

“She’s okay? Ellie?” You asked softly.

“Yeah. She’s strong. Stronger than me even.” A flash of pride filled his features while praising his daughter’s strength, “She got that from her mom.” You knew that Joel wasn’t related to Ellie by blood. He had shared that bit of information with you early on when he first told you about his daughters. That was all you knew of the fact though. You didn’t know how Joel knew Ellie’s mom or how she came to be adopted by him. “Since then though, I’ve always had a hair trigger for that kind of shit. More so than I used to. Just brings up bad memories.”

“I could only imagine.” You replied. “I’m so sorry, Joel.”

“No need for you to be.”

“Still…” You searched for something to say, but there were no words that came to mind. Instead, you rested your head between his shoulder and chest. Joel responded by letting the arm draped on the couch behind you wrap around your own shoulders as his right hand continued to reach across his lap and rest on your thigh. Softly, you spoke, “Sarah and Ellie are lucky to have you.”

Joel gave a small shake of his head, “I’m lucky to have them.”

“Well, then,” You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze and gave him a tight lipped smile, “I’m lucky to have you.”

“Wrong again.” Joel chuckled and there was a softness in his eyes as he studied your features.

That didn’t feel true to you. It had been so long since you felt protected to this degree. For literal years, you only had yourself to rely on. Of course you always had Nima and Henry at the bake shop, they’d move mountains for you, but the thought of bothering them kept you from ever wanting to ask for too much. However, when Joel took care of you, it never made you feel like a burden. It felt like you could breathe fully and freely for the first time in a long time⏤ as if the concrete blocks once tied to your ankles were gone and you could now stretch your wings and be yourself.

Your gaze found its way to his lips before bouncing back up to his eyes. The plan had been to gain the courage to close this gap and share that physical intimacy with him, but the two of you seemed to find a different kind of intimacy altogether. You leaned in and rather than kissing him like you had been craving all night, you lightly set your lips against his jawline, in that same spot you had admired earlier in the night, and then laid your head back on his shoulder. You curled in closer into him and Joel wrapped around your once more as if it were simply natural to do so.

“You’re a good man.” You mumbled and listened to the steady thrum of his heart under your ear.

You felt Joel suck in a sharp, shaky breath and hold it. Eternity seemed to pass before he slowly breathed out. Joel turned his head, you could feel him moving, and he pressed a kiss to your hairline⏤ lingering there with his lips to your skin as he mumbled, “No, sugar. I’m really not.”

There was an underlying tone to his words you didn't recognize, but there was nothing that could convince you otherwise of your beliefs. You were lucky to have Joel in your life, and he was a good man.

taglist (closed):

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✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #sugar daddy!joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #take care of you

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suffersinfandom · 5 months ago

Text

Heyo, @nidmightcookies! This is my response to your reply on Atticus' post over here -- I didn't want to take away from the message of that post or the additions from other POC.

Sidenote: I'm extremely white and have no credentials that make me qualified to talk about race (I'm just a person who reads and tries to listen), and my takes are probably going to show that. That's another reason I didn't want to clutter up the original post with my reply.

In response to this

“Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent? Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show.”

you talk about Ed baiting the crew to murder him and committing other violent acts. The original point is stating that Ed is not depicted as uncontrollably violent in the show, not claiming that he perpetrated no violence full stop. Yes, Ed does violence. No, he is not uncontrollably violent.

What Ed does is purposeful, not uncontrollable. He doesn’t push Lucius off the ship after he gives up all hope because he’s a violent guy who just does stuff like that, and the mutiny situation in S2E2… as allthinky said in a response, “that’s Ed at the end of his rope,” not him being uncontrollably violent. He’d been working towards suicide ever since he started baiting Low. As a backup plan, he’s been working the crew hard, disregarding their well-being, and being an overall awful boss in an attempt to incite a mutiny.

Yes, he was “a serious, immediate threat to his crew” by the time he was out of other ideas to make someone take him out. Ed commits acts of violence -- I don’t think I’ve seen anyone claim he doesn’t -- but he always does so with some amount of reason (not necessarily good reasons) and control.

“Upon reflection, my biggest issue may be with the people who argue that Ed's never been shown to be violent, or that any time he has resorted to violence, he's absolved of blame by the fact that someone was mean to him first. Which... I don't think I've seen you make either of those arguments at any point in the past.”

I’m really glad that you mentioned that OP hadn’t made either of those arguments (that you know of), that was genuinely very cool. As for the rest of it, I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone say that Ed is “never shown to be violent” or that he can always be “absolved of the blame” unless you want to remove all of the nuance from common talking points.

He is never shown to be more violent than the average pirate and, due to his deep-seated trauma relating to his own capacity for violence, he’s actually on the less violent end of the pirate spectrum. He can’t be absolved of all blame for his actions because he’s a grown man who makes his own choices (and saying otherwise robs him of his agency). What I’ve seen said is that Ed’s actions are informed by things like trauma, abuse, and racism. His actions make sense. They’re not spontaneous violence committed because Ed flies into rages and homicidal spirals out of the blue.

“Not saying we shouldn't consider it [that is, are we “assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is”], but I mean. If a white character on the show had cut off his employee's toes and fed them to him, shot him in the leg, ordered his death, held a gun on his other subordinates, marooned some/tossed one overboard, threatened to drown the ones that remained... because he was pushed into it, with the same combination of abusive childhood/hostile work environment... would he be equally deserving of that consideration? Would it be an overreaction to call him dangerous?”

Probably, but if everything was the same except Ed Is White Now, his baggage and his relationship with Izzy wouldn’t be exactly the same. Ed's race isn’t inconsequential. We can't really remove race from the story and end up with the same character, y'know?

Also: I do think it’s inappropriate to turn this question back on POC. I don’t think that POC are obligated to reconsider biases against a white character.

“Izzy is crew”

Ed’s relationship to Izzy is not comparable to his relationship with the crew. The crew have done nothing wrong and haven’t behaved antagonistically towards Ed. Izzy and Ed have a complicated, toxic, and difficult relationship (regardless of where you stand on whether or not Izzy’s abusive), therefore any harm caused to Izzy has to be considered differently than harm caused to the rest of the crew.

“Even if we say that he doesn't count, Ed still pushed Lucius off the ship.”

Yes, Ed did do that, but I think that Atticus is talking about Ed’s S2 actions in that point, not what happened in S1. Most (I think all?) meta I’ve read does consider Ed pushing Lucius off the ship an act of violence that Lucius himself did nothing to provoke.

This might be controversial, but I’d put Ed pushing Lucius overboard on par with, like, a particularly unjust firing in a workplace that isn’t a pirate vessel. When we watch OFMD, we have to adjust our physical violence meters to account for the fact that we’re dealing with an environment that’s full of physical violence.

“Also, emotional abuse directed at the rest of the crew is still abuse”

I don't consider Ed emotionally abusive. He works the crew hard. He’s a terrible boss who doesn’t give his employees vacation days or paid time off and then throws them a sad pizza party. That sucks, it’s not okay, and his final death spiral in S2E2 is terrible and he never should have involved the crew in that.

Abuse is a pattern of behavior that’s meant to control people. Not all harm is abuse. When I say that Ed isn't abusive, I'm not saying that he didn't hurt people.

“So... I was raised by a physically and psychologically abusive parent. I get that Ed's been hurt, is still hurting, and why. The "why" doesn't matter for the question of "did he or didn't he", though. It may or may not be his fault, he may or may not have done it because he felt unsafe. The point is, his actions did hurt people.”

Same, friend, and I'm sorry you went through that. (That’s actually one of the reasons I’ve always been wary of Izzy. What he says and does in S1 is too familiar to me, sometimes to a point where I can’t watch certain scenes.) I don’t think anyone’s saying that Ed isn’t hurting anyone, or that all of his actions can be attributed to abuse. If that’s not what you’re getting at here, apologies for misunderstanding.

“His boss that he was trying to control was brown. Was that a factor in his power play though, or was it because Taika wound up being cast as Blackbeard? Any other (white) actor in the role, would Izzy be as bad for trying to control him? Would the scripts have gone a different way?”

Here’s the thing. In the show we have, Blackbeard is played by a Maori/Jewish man, and this fundamentally alters the character. There are things in the show -- whole episodes, if you want to look at S1E5 and the fancy party guests who treat Ed like exotic entertainment and not a peer -- that wouldn’t be the same if Ed was white.

And yeah, Ed being brown changes the dynamic between Ed and Izzy. It would still be bad if a white guy was trying to control another white guy, but it wouldn’t be bad on the same level. Same goes if they were both brown. A white man trying to control the behavior of an indigenous man is worse.

“Izzy got permanently disfigured, crippled, and dead, while Ed came out largely unscathed in a physical sense, due to Muppet logic. Not to say one is more deserving than the other, but for a bunch of fans, there's probably a sense of Izzy getting the short end of the stick, to consider.”

That’s fine if some people feel like Izzy got the short end of the stick. It’s fine that some people feel like Izzy’s arc was kinder to him than it should have been. It’s okay to feel whatever! We connect emotionally to different characters and that biases our opinions and meta. That’s not a crime. We just need to be aware of our biases and why they exist.

The thing with OFMD is that Ed is a main character with more background and a story that, at every turn, asks you to sympathize with him. We’re given a look into Ed’s psyche. We understand at least some of his trauma and hurt and why he acts the way he does. Izzy has virtually no backstory and we’re never offered a glimpse into his mind; we don’t know why he’s like that. You can totally like a secondary character (or even an antagonist!) with no real canonical background or mental groundwork. It’s fun to ask why characters do what they do when canon doesn’t offer us any answers, and who doesn’t love a mystery box?

But with OFMD, it can raise eyebrows when people say their main concern is the suffering of a white man who behaves antagonistically towards a brown man, especially when that brown character is a well-developed lead who also suffers (and suffers at the hands of aforementioned white character). It’s not inherently racist for someone to care more about Izzy than Ed, but it’s also not unreasonable to ask that someone to think about the possibility that subconscious racism could be factoring into their point of view.

“I don't think it's fair discussion to have a rule saying ‘even though you didn't directly call out the brown man, your argument is still racist’... even if it's true in many cases, it effectively means that no criticism of the character can ever be considered valid. If someone wants to argue ‘removing your employee's toes and feeding them to him is abusive behavior’, they can't, because of the unspoken skin colors involved? I don't know what the solution to this is.”

No one is saying that all criticism of a character of color is racist or invalid. As allthinky said in response, we’re saying that “those critiques have to be based on real evidence, and placed in a careful context, so that their actions can be understood as human, and not just the brutality of some brute.”

Criticize, but criticize with evidence and with awareness of the context of the criticized behavior.

With the Izzy example, you have to consider the context of their relationship and Izzy’s actions throughout S1. Izzy isn’t just an employee: he’s a trusted second-in-command who has been insulting, controlling, and disloyal; he endangered not just Stede but also Ed and the rest of the crew; he told Ed that he was better off dead than acting as he was, and that Izzy's loyalty belongs to the violent worksona that Ed wants to shed. Is Ed being abusive when he’s reacting in response to abuse from his abuser?

“[T]he show has layers (like an onion). Sometimes the meaning is not entirely surface-level, and everyone has a different level of comprehension. Sometimes obvious things to us aren't obvious to other fans/vice-versa. There's a whole 'nother discussion of media literacy to be had.”

I think that Atticus said it best here: “This is not a subtle show. That's not to say it's a simple one [...]. It's amazingly layered and emotional responses by characters are often extremely complex. However, when the show is trying to tell you something, it's not subtle and it never tries to hide it.”

There are a lot of things in OFMD that are subjective and open to interpretation, and those things are fun to discuss even when we have different takes. There are also a lot of things that are very clear. When people try to subvert the messages and ideas that OFMD is conveying loudly and openly, other fans get suspicious and wonder if the folks doing the subverting have an agenda, a bias, or just misunderstand what the show is saying.

I hope that reply was sufficient!

#ofmd #edward teach #the izzy problem #hey what tags do people have blocked if they don't want to see stuff like this?#ofmd discourse #fandom racism

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yandere-writer-momo · 1 year ago

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What would the boys do when they would find their s/o heavily crying?

You did not specify on why they are crying so you are getting cry baby s/o

Baki Head Canons

Hector Doyle is trying to get you to stop crying because your foundation and mascara are expensive (he stole them for you, but still). Babe don’t cry, he will kill whoever upset you (chances are you accidentally squished a bug and felt bad but you still have the man slaughter option). He carries your foundation and mascara on him (in a little satchel) at all times to fix your face (because you cry a lot).

Hanayama hands you a handkerchief and will wait until you’re ready to tell him why you’re upset. He will sit next to you and put his hand on your back. If you cry in a public space, he will throw his suit jacket over you so no one else sees you cry. He’d never let you feel embarrassed about being a cry baby. You’re his little cry baby. (But if someone made you cry, he’s sending out a hit).

Jack will block everyone from seeing you when you cry. He will wipe away your tears and kiss your face. He will wait until you’re done crying so you can tell him what upset you. He will throw hands if someone was mean to you. If it’s over something out of your control, he will just console you. He will carry you home if you wear yourself out. He’s the best.

Baki will hush you and hold you. He doesn’t care if you mess up his shirt! It’s okay (it was ugly anyways)! He would take you to get ice cream or your favorite snack to make you feel better. He’s a really great partner. (He is another one that will throw hands if someone upset you).

Katsumi will immediately take you into his arms and try to reassure you. He might even cry a little bit too if you’re especially worked up. Covers you in kisses and snuggles until you can tell him why you were upset. He’d take you out to go buy you your favorite snacks. Will also take you to the park to feed the ducks. Look how cute the little ducklings are! (He’s totally not trying to give you baby fever). He would beat up anyone who made you cry (but when you’re home and safe! He wouldn’t let you know about that side of him.

Retsu would hand you a handkerchief and even guide you out of a public setting. He has a very calming presence so you’re usually relaxed after a few minutes of him being nearby. He’s able to get you to tell him why you were upset. He’d never resort to violence if someone upset you but if someone had gotten physical with you, he will as well. Retsu is another one who would never show that side of him to you. He never wants you to be afraid of him. Retsu couldn’t bear to be the one who is the reason for your tears

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prismuffin · 2 years ago

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Hello! I hope youre doing well, could I request a one-shot for Miles Morales.

-Miles just starts to attend Visions and Reader immediately takes him under their wing (bonus if reader is taller). And they like to fluster him and get him out of troubling situation, standing up for him when others that about him.

-eventually Miles asks why Reader was so nice from the beginning and without even hesitating their like "You're cute and akward, just my type" or something along those lines?

A/n: OOO I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! Reader is also depicted to be taller than Miles!! I literally changed the title like 3 times istg I have no clue what to name this so it has two titles

Protection / Confession

Miles Morales x gn!reader

( summary: you'd taken a liking to the new kid, Miles, and decided to take him under your wing )

Warnings?: some light bullying, reader having mad w rizz

!-!more under the cut!-!

You were a very well known person in Visions Academy. Not only for your high IQ but also for your kind and charming personality. You were chill and not as stuck up as some people in Visions, you were a breath of fresh air. Specifically the breath Miles needed when he felt like he was drowning in stress and expectations. You had told him he shouldn’t worry about what others are thinking and that he should just do his own thing at his own pace and man did he need to hear that. You showed him around school and the dorms and even let him sit with you and your friends during lunch. You were technically his first friend in Vision and you made him think that staying wouldn’t be too bad. Obviously he immediately took a liking to you and luckily you seemed to do the same for him, though he isn’t really sure why. Hell, the first time you ever met Miles he was attempting to smooth talk a hall monitor so that he didn't get in trouble for dashing through the halls. He wasn't very convincing though and you had decided to step in to save the day, and it’s been history ever since.

Every now and then Miles would find himself in trouble and almost every time, you were there to pull him out of it. Like now, where Miles finds himself cornered in a hallway with two high schoolers that look like they shouldn’t be in high school anymore. He let out a nervous chuckle as he stared up at the two guys. “Hey, maybe we can just talk this one out?” He smiles nervously and one of the guys scoffed “Not a chance.” The guy reeled his fist back and Miles closed his eyes and braced for pain but instead he felt nothing. He peaked out of one eyes and saw you standing there with the guys fist in your hand. “Hey let’s not resort to violence guys, it’s not cool.” You raised your brow at them as they both hesitated on what to do next. “Or do you want me to go get a supervisor and tell them about what’s happening here?” You continued. Both guys glanced at each other and Miles couldn’t help but smirk at the situation. “I’m sure you’d get suspended for this, maybe even expelled,” you shook your head and tsked. “You guys should know Visions has no tolerance when it comes to violence.” Miles watched as the guy who was going to punch him ripped his hand from yours before glaring and storming away, his friend following right after him. You watched them both disappear down the hallways before turning your attention to Miles, who was crouched on the ground watching the guys walk away.

You cleared your throat and his eyes immediately shot to yours. A sheepish smile graced his face and your stoic expression turned into a smirk as you nose laughed and shook your head at him. You held out your hand for him to take, which he did, and you lifted him off the ground. "So, mind telling me what you did this time?" You asked, looking down at Miles who was scratching the side of his head and looking to the side. "Not really.." You hummed and placed your hand on his head, leaning down to his height. Realistically you weren't that much taller than Miles but you loved to act like he was so much shorter than you. "How many more times are you gonna pick a fight with guys two times your size." "I wasn't picking a fight!" His eyebrows furrowed, "and they weren't two times my size!" He removed your hand from his head but didn't let go of it afterwards.

He bit the inside of his lip and started messing with your fingers, his expression softening. "Sorry," he mumbled and you blinked for a moment as his words rendered in your brain. "For what?" He shrugged and smiled though there wasn't any emotion behind it. His eyes darted around for a second before he sighed. "I just- you're always getting me out of stuff like that." He chuckled and quickly let go of your hand as if he just realized he'd been holding it. "oh.." You thought for a moment before smiling.

"Miles." He looked up at you, "It's fine man, you don't have to apologize or anything." "But doesn't it get annoying?" You shook your head, "Miles, it's fine I swear I don't mind helping you and sticking up for you whenever people talk about you," You gestured with your head towards the direction the two guys went, "or when they try and get physical with you." Miles couldn't help but smile at your words. "You don't think I could handle them?" Miles raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face and you laughed. "Even if I thought you could," You grabbed his chin, "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if your pretty face got all scratched up." You talked in a baby voice and chuckled as Miles' eyes widened. "Pretty?" He spoke loud and quick as if what he said just shot out of his mouth. You let go of his chin, "oh yeah why do you think I've been protecting you so much?" You stood up straight and stretched, "You were so cute when I first saw you, standing there all awkward like you are now." You rested your head on your arms and looked at him through the corner of your eye. "The first time I ever saw you my first thought was about how you looked like my type." You smirked and dropped your arms, turning fully towards him. "Then I saw you in the hallway that day trying to talk yourself out of a referral and I just had to help out." You stuck your hands in your pocket as you watched Miles process everything in his brain. He watched your every move with wide eyes and after a beat of silence you just sighed with a smile and started walking down the hallway. "Wait!" You heard Miles scurrying up to you. "So this- Are you- I'm-" He stopped talking and took a shaky breath. "Did you just confess to me? Was that a confession?" He asked and you shrugged. "Do you want it to be?" Another silence fell over the both of you. "..Yeah..." He said and your smile grew. "Then yes, it was a confession." He smiled at you, "I guess that this means it's my turn to confess now?" You nodded, "Yes, that would be ideal."

----!----

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

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Masterlist

#Miles Morales #Miles morales x reader #miles morales x gn!reader #gender nuetral reader #gn!reader #spiderman x gn!reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x you #marvel x you #prismuffin

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penny00dreadful · 1 month ago

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Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 5] [AO3] [Cover Art] [Eddie&Chrissy Art]

“Opinions?” Steve asked, feeling the familiar presence of his own Captain of the Guard at his back. A presence who'd never put his hands unnecessarily and so cruelly on someone just because they shoved someone else.

Hopper might be a gruff and cranky old fart but he wasn't a malicious man.

The ease at which the Stoirmeach Captain resorted to such violence after what could arguably be called a small slight, the nonchalance and hate he had shown towards Eddie, who was supposed to be Chrissy’s closest confidant, her best friend, her advisor, all of which should have given him a level of protection against what had happened… Steve could tell it set Hopper’s teeth on edge.

And Steve figured he wouldn’t be letting that edge go any time soon.

Probably not until they were safe and sound back in their own kingdom.

Even if someone back in Torthúil had shoved Steve in anger or hate, the most they would have received would have been a cuff around the back of the head.

Hell, if Hopper went after anyone who'd ever shoved Steve, Robin, Dustin, Mike and Erica would have had permanent residences in Torthúil’s dungeons.

The very thought sent a shiver through him.

They didn't really use their dungeons.

Unless Steve was to count holding wine and ale and cheese captive.

Which he didn't.

Because he and Robin had pilfered freely of the first two in his youth which then led to a pilfering of the third with Argyle, the herbalist and Jonathan, the apprentice painter.

“That Sullivan fella’s got one hell of a stick up his ass.” Hopper grumbled back as Steve took count again of all of the gifts they had brought from home to present to Stoirmeach’s court. “And that Munson character is not very popular.”

Robin snorted humorlessly from her position inside the wagon. “Yeah, no shit.”

Hopper just continued to scowl. “Apparently the princess has never demanded anything as ferociously as she had demanded that Eddie be allowed to stay in the kingdom as her advisor. It was a very unpopular move but she refused to budge on it. Some think he seduced or blackmailed her into it. Others rather… uncharitably think she’s keeping him around as a… a bedmate.”

Despite the sheer ridiculousness of the statement, Steve couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Hopper, watching him turn his red face away, trying to keep his words as respectable as possible.

“Did you find anything out about why they were so aggressive? Had he done something else to piss them off?” Steve asked. “And what did they call him? Outsider? Tree dweller?”

“What the hell even is a tree dweller?” Robin muttered back.

“Someone who dwells in trees?” Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Sinclair was talking to a few of the grunts on Stoirmeach’s side and according to them he’s just an all around troublemaker.” Hopper had his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “Just does things to be a nuisance. Which sounds a whole lot like—”

“Bullshit.” Steve pushed in with raised eyebrows.

“You think so?” Robin was attempting to crawl her way out of the covered wagon and Steve offered her a hand down.

Steve shrugged. “All I’ve seen him do so far is look out for Chrissy. He might be going about it in a bit of an unorthodox manner, but his heart seems to be in the right place.” He squeezed his fingers around Robins. “Would you not do the same for me?”

She immediately opened her mouth to deny it, but she stopped, slowly sealing her lips back together with a frown.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like his attitude.” She grumbled after a few moments of silence.

“You don’t, but it also doesn’t mean you’d attack him for it.”

Robin just shrugged. She probably didn’t have many qualms about attacking Eddie but unlike the soldiers, her attacking would have just amounted to hair-pulling and rib-jabbing.

Steve turned back to the inventory in the wagon with a little smirk, silently delighted he’d been able to catch her out.

He wanted to make a good impression. He wanted to make sure their kingdom knew that their princess Chrissy would be well looked after.

But based on what they all just witnessed, he wasn’t so sure anymore whether they’d give a fuck whether Chrissy was taken care of or not, or if they just wanted her married off.

Either way, the gifts were here now and if they helped ingratiate him into the kingdom, maybe he could try to make everyone’s life there easier.

Himself, Robin, Chrissy… even Eddie.

There was apprehension crawling around him, thinking about what might be awaiting them all once they got there.

Was he going to be forced to witness more brutality?

God, he hoped not.

He was only a week out on his journey. He had over a month left. And he already wanted to go home.

He sighed, pulling himself back out of the wagon and leaned himself against it, casting his eyes around.

He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Chrissy or Eddie since the incident had happened and based on the shouts of laughter and boisterous storytelling coming from the Stoirmeach guard, bragging to his staff, no one else had seen the two either.

Things were still a little tense. Steve’s side of the camp had been shaken by the brutality and were no longer sure about how to act around Chrissy’s side who had taken it all in stride.

But hopefully, with time, things would become easier. And hopefully Steve could prevent an incident like that happening again.

Either way, it was up to him to make things better, to make this marriage work. Being a crown prince certainly had its advantages, but there was an awful lot of responsibility on his shoulders at all times too.

And he did feel responsible for what had happened. He knew Robin would tell him that it wasn’t his fault but still.

Pushing himself back to standing, he took the short few muddy steps towards the tent Eddie and Chrissy had disappeared behind.

Now that he was standing in front of the closed tent flap, he found himself wishing for a closed door instead.

At least with a closed door he could knock.

What was he supposed to do here?

Rolling his shoulders back and holding his head high, Steve attempted to punch out a strong and authoritative clearing of his throat.

Instead what he got was a very awkward clearing of his throat, left shuffling foot to foot as the sounds from inside died down the second he had made his presence known.

The black flap acting as a door was pulled back and Eddie’s expression quickly morphed from waryness to surprise when he saw who it was and then straight down to irritation.

It appeared to just be him. No Chrissy in sight.

“What do you want?”

He was holding the arm that had been grabbed and twisted a little awkwardly at his side, held in close and gingerly, his body angling it away, while the other arm held the tent flap open slightly above him. There was an intoxicating smell gently drifting over the air, something spicy and warm and a little peppery. It was a scent he had never smelled before.

Steve was left kinda just… staring.

It was the first time he’d gotten a good look at Eddie when he wasn’t shrouded in darkness, snapping at him or getting manhandled for the capital offence of looking after his best friend.

He was all darkness and light. Dark brown curls spilling around his shoulders, one half pulled back in a braid tight against the side of his head showing off a delicate curling vine of green leaves inked into his skin, crawling up from under the collar of his leather doublet, stopping just behind his ear. An ear that was pierced through with various silver studs and rings.

His eyes were deep and dark, enormous and even though they were squinted with suspicion, Steve thought he could lose a sizable amount of time staring into them, trying to catalogue every shifting colour.

His skin was so pale, Steve might have thought he was unwell but something about it told him that that was just Eddie. It allowed his curls, his eyes, the ink on his skin and the dusty pink of his lips to stand out even more, sucking Steve’s gaze in, enthralling him.

The dark, almost black colour of his leathers stood out as well and Steve could just about make out some embroidered forest designs along the hems, dark green in colour again and a little shakily applied.

Eddie had his skinny, bony, long fingers adorned with silver rings, there were chains hanging around his neck and from his belts, a small black handkerchief of some kind tucked into the belt around his waist at the back.

Eddie was…

Eddie was kinda really pretty.

Steve felt almost overdressed in his laced hems, brightly coloured embroidery and billowing sleeves. He’d removed his cape and crown for the evening, but even so, he felt like he was posturing.

“Has your mouth ceased to function, Your Highness?”

Steve snapped his eyes back from where they had settled again on those long, skinny fingers, pressed into the fabric of the tent.

Eddie had an eyebrow cocked at him, almost challenging him to bite back, to get offended at the snark or snap in anger.

Steve decided then and there he was going to do everything within his power to assure Eddie that he wasn’t the kind of royalty he seemed to think he was.

“Lord Munson-”

“Well that’s a first.” Eddie snorted, his lip curling in a sneer and he leaned forward a little, trying to punch his next words into Steve as much as possible. “I am untitled.”

Steve blinked.

Well… it wasn’t like he hadn’t heard of such a thing before. True that most people in the household of royalty would be titled themselves or a close relation to the royal member in question. Lucas wouldn’t have had such an easy journey entering into Hopper's service if his father wasn’t a Lord and friends with Hopper. But Torthúil didn’t have such things as a rule.

Robin wasn’t titled either.

“Okay. Mr. Munson-”

Eddie’s eyes had widened slightly but he still opened his mouth and Steve, remembering how he had introduced himself earlier, quickly corrected himself.

“Forgive me. Eddie.” He took a steadying breath in. “I just wanted to come check on you. To see if you were doing okay after…” He waved his hand around, a little awkwardly. “Everything. And I wanted to apologise as well.”

“Ap- apologise?” Eddie’s remaining snark had now melted away to complete bewilderment.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you were subjected to that, I didn’t know your guards would be so…”

“Eager?” Eddie removed his hand from the tent flap, instead leaning his body against the supporting pole. He raised his arms as though he was going to cross them but his mouth tightened when he moved the arm that had been grabbed, so he seemed to just settle on letting that arm hang while he rested the other against his hip.

Steve grimaced to himself. Eager was certainly a word for it.

“Listen, Highness—”

“Steve.”

Eddie’s mouth hung open, frozen from where it had been when he was interrupted and he just stared for a moment.

“Steve.” He said, rolling the sound around on his tongue, seeing if he liked how it tasted.

Steve felt the corner of his lip tilt up, satisfied.

“Steve.” Eddie looked at him with determination. “Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t know whether I like you or not, but you didn’t put your hands on me, did you?”

“Well no but—”

“Then what are you apologising for?”

“I… I’m still sorry that it happened because of me. It shouldn’t have.”

“No, it shouldn’t have.” Eddie agreed, but still raised his good arm to wave Steve off. “But it’s nothing I’m not used to. Don’t worry your pretty little princely head about it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

He was met with an eyeroll and a few muttered words that sounded distinctly like just like Chris.

“Sun’s setting, Stevie. Best get back to your people before they start whispering about me casting spells on you.”

Steve looked over his shoulder to find both sides quickly averting their eyes, doing a very bad job of hiding the fact that everyone was watching their interaction. The only person who continued to look on unashamed was Robin.

When he looked back, Eddie had already dropped the curtain, separating the two of them again and effectively ending their conversation.

Steve was stuck ruminating on the whole interaction for the rest of the evening, into the night as he and Robin got settled into their compartments.

They had originally been roomed separately but that simply would do. They had insisted on it and wouldn’t budge until Robin's bed was brought into Steve’s room.

While their side took it in stride and accepted it as standard because it was standard, Chrissy’s side initially looked appalled, as though Steve had just planted a kiss on Hopper in front of all of them.

But Steve and Robin got their way eventually, while Chrissy looked on, slightly amazed, like she hadn’t even known it was an option.

Steve and Robin pushed their provided luxurious beds closer together so they could gossip at a lower volume, wary of being overheard with nothing but fabric, Hopper and his soldiers standing between them the wilds, and the Stoirmeach retinue.

“Does it strike you as odd that the Stoirmeach side just seems to… ignore Chrissy?” Steve whispered to her. “Or at least they don’t really pay her much mind.”

“It is very strange.” Robin muttered back, tucking her hands up underneath her pillow. “But things are different for women.”

Steve mirrored her position. “Not different enough to ignore their crown princess, surely.”

“No, not that different.”

“What do you think of her?”

Robin sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it for a moment before letting it free.

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t seen much of her. Does it sound terrible to say she’s a little like a flower not getting enough sun?”

Steve frowned before shaking his head as much as he could from his position. “We’ll give her all the sunshine she needs back home.”

Robin hummed, hesitating for a moment.

Steve let her, waiting to hear what else she had to say.

“She’s very pretty.”

Steve raised his eyebrows a little. Yeah, Chrissy was pretty. She was tiny with big blue eyes and long flowing blonde hair pulled away from her face with two braids ending with a bow at the back of her head. Her blue gown wasn’t as intricately decorated as Steve’s, Robin’s or even Eddie’s clothes but it fit her well, adding to her delicacy.

Steve was surprised to find himself thinking of Eddie again. When he thought of pretty, he thought of him.

He shoved the thought far out of his head, instead choosing to focus on Robin and how her cheeks were pinking up ever so slightly, bringing out her freckles the way her blush always did.

She was always weak for any pretty girl.

“Hopefully,” Robin sighed, breaking Steve away from his thoughts. “Hopefully what happened with Eddie today is just a one off. The excitement of the whole thing.” It was clear to Steve she was trying to find some kind of positive, but she wasn’t quite buying her own words. “Maybe things will be better once we get to Stoirmeach.”

Steve only nodded.

He had a lot of other hopes aside from never having to see Eddie get treated so brutally again.

Top of his list was that even if he and Chrissy never ended up on the romantic side of love, maybe they could be good partners, good rulers together. Good friends.

It was the best he could hope for, really.

The journey back to Stoirmeach was simultaneously too long a trek and too short.

Steve was desperate to sleep in a real bed again, to be surrounded by actual walls and an actual roof, to stand in front of a fireplace and to be able to wash in more privacy than a tent provided.

But he also felt he was going to miss the mealtimes with Chrissy, more intimate than a standard dining room fair by virtue of them being out in the woods.

As heavily observed as they were and as public all of their conversations were, sitting around a small table with her, only able to squeeze in four chairs maximum—a much a tighter fit than the sprawling and opulent dining tables and banquet tables Steve had to compare to—it reminded Steve of his evenings down in the kitchens with the kids, Claudia and Joyce.

They never ate alone together, Robin was always seated to his right and Eddie was always seated to Chrissy’s right.

Which, of course, meant that Eddie was always next to him too, Chrissy directly across from him and conversation flowed surprisingly easy between the four of them.

They didn’t speak about anything personal, anything private or risky. They steered clear of discussing the incident that had happened when Steve and Robin first arrived, preferring instead to stick to safer topics such as their favourite colours or their favourite time of day.

Nothing so bad as that incident had happened again and Steve wasn’t sure if the Stoirmeach guards just hadn’t been in a foul enough mood to lash out or if they were holding themselves back based on his own less than favourable response to it.

Still, he, Robin, Hopper and surprisingly enough, Lucas kept a very close eye on the guards whenever Eddie was around, just in case Steve needed to step in again and use his status to keep Eddie’s head from being ripped off.

It became clearer as the days went on that the Stoirmeach guards didn’t just dislike Eddie, they hated him.

For what reason, Steve had no idea but when Eddie smiled at Chrissy or reached a hand out to reassure her, Steve couldn’t fathom a single thing Eddie could have done to receive so much ire.

Lucas had taken a bit of a shine to him as well, though as their travels went on, Steve found himself less and less surprised by it.

Eddie had initially been wary of him. Anyone dressed in armour of any kind seemed to have his hackles raised and Steve had been ready to jump in the middle if Eddie so much as looked at Lucas wrong.

But he needn’t have worried.

Once Eddie had come to realise that Lucas was not going to attack out of nowhere and instead was gushing questions about Eddie’s inked skin and how curious his friend back home, Dustin, was to learn about it and how it worked, the door had been opened and Steve didn’t think it would ever close.

Steve was a little worried that Lucas was going to arrive back in Torthúil after the month was over with his skin covered with inked in designs but at the same time, he wasn’t Lady Sinclaire, he wasn’t Captain Hopper. He couldn’t tell Lucas what he could and couldn’t do.

He could just look on disapprovingly with his arms crossed if it came down to it.

Though he didn’t seem to be the only one in the camp with disapproving thoughts on his mind.

Though he had… smoothed over things with Eddie as much as he could where the incident was concerned, Chrissy’s advisor seemed to be a prickly guy.

Steve thought that he’d probably never be considered good enough for Chrissy’s hand in Eddie’s eyes but he couldn’t exactly say he didn’t understand it.

If some foreign royal had come to snatch up Robin into an arranged marriage, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to find them worthy, even if they were the softest person in existence.

But Eddie seemed to find things to glare at Steve about.

When Steve methodically cleaned mud and dirt from his boots, he got a glare.

When Steve sat with Lucas and Robin, smiling along with them over whatever shenanigans they had decided to reminisce over, Eddie studied him like he was trying to read his mind with a critical eye.

When Steve donned his crown and cape again as the shape of a castle appeared on the horizon far off in the distance, signalling their imminent arrival, Eddie shot him a dirty look.

The guy clearly had some hangups and some preconceived notions that he was refusing to let go of, but Steve didn’t let himself get too bothered by it.

Eddie could think what he wanted about him. He wasn’t going to beg for his approval but also wasn’t going to treat him like shit just because he didn’t bow and scrape at the sight of him.

He actually liked that about Eddie.

Bowing and scraping wasn’t something he was used to.

The royals back in Torthúil just… didn’t engender that kind of higher-than-their-fellow-man type of feeling.

And he liked it that way.

But Steve was left to wonder as the castle loomed ever closer and the town walls rose up to meet it, whether that would be the same here.

He knew the chances were slim.

He wasn’t ignorant to how the rest of the world worked but they weren’t the only kingdom with such a system.

The carriage window was slightly cracked and through the crack he could smell the sea air, hear the sounds of angry crashing waves against the high cliff the castle–his home for the next month–sat on.

There were grey clouds hanging low above and the first smattering of rain against the window glass.

Mingled up in the sea air was the smell of fish and sheep shit, the quick and cutting wind carrying it easily from the beaches down below and the craggy mountain fields.

He reached blindly for Robin’s hand, not taking his eyes away from the window.

She gave his fingers a little squeeze and not for the first time Steve was unimaginably grateful that he had her there with him.

As they passed through the large, slightly rotted wood and metal gate at the entrance to the town, the rain began to fall harder.

Steve had expected to see people going about their business, despite the weather. Things needed to be done, rain or shine after all. But as they bounced down the narrow grey cobblestoned streets towards the looming castle, high up on its cliff, Steve could see… almost nobody.

In fact, the only people he did see were soldiers standing at street entrances and alleyways, clad in dark steel, black and red, watching the caravan pass by silently.

Every so often one of the guards would look behind them, glaring down the alley and Steve had the uncomfortable realisation that they were keeping the townsfolk back there, out of the way of the carriages and wagons and while it did mean that their journey was much quicker, it felt… wrong.

He really, really didn’t like the idea that Stoirmeach’s people were being pushed out of the way for him. Some foreign prince.

Steve tore his eyes away from the window to send a glance Robin’s way and found her doing the same, the two of them sharing a silent what the fuck communication before they turned back to their respective windows.

He would have loved to see Chrissy or Eddie at that point. He would have loved to see how they reacted to all of this, or if they had any reaction at all. Maybe this was all normal to them.

But they weren’t travelling in a carriage like Steve and Robin, they were in a great wooden wheelhouse, generously outfitted but with tiny windows near the top, almost like prisoner transportation.

They found Steve’s carriage strange and he found their wheelhouse strange.

He supposed it wouldn’t be the last strange difference between them.

The town was at an incline, the castle sitting above the streets below and Steve got the impression everything in the town would be visible from the battlements or even from the windows.

Wide stone steps curved down from the entrance, flaring out on either side and lined up in formation along the edges seemed to be every member of staff that the Cunninghams employed in the castle, all standing stock still, hands folded in front or behind them, watching them.

He thought it was supposed to be intended as some kind of greeting or maybe even a display of wealth but Steve just felt uncomfortable all over again looking at all of these people forced to stand out in the rain.

Steve and Robin’s carriage came to a halt in front of the steps and with only a moment's hesitation—he couldn’t make the staff stand outside for any longer than they needed to—he pushed the door open and stepped out.

He cast an eye around at the staff and immediately took notice of two people very conspicuously missing.

The king and queen were nowhere in sight.

Steve watched as the rest of the caravan gradually ascended the incline after him and he felt himself wanting to fuss over the gifts he had brought, wanting to make sure they were all presentable and had made it here in one piece but his attention was diverted as Chrissy’s wheelhouse came to a stop behind their carriage and both she and Eddie stepped out.

They stared up at the imposing grey, weathered castle like they were heading to the gallows. It was like a weight had settled back on their shoulders and they were bowing under the pressure.

Behind him, his people started to get his gifts organised to present to the king and queen and Steve was left with nothing to do but to wonder if he was going to have to find his own way to the Great Hall to be received by them.

Chrissy and Eddie appeared at his side, unusually silent and stony faced.

Chrissy took his arm with a strained smile and for all the animosity that Robin and Eddie had shown each other, he stood on her side, almost as if to bolster her for the trek into the castle.

With a slight tug, she began to lead Steve up the steps and into the castle and Steve supposed there was no use hesitating. He was in this now and he needed to see it through to the end.

His kingdom was relying on him. He needed this to be a success. He wanted to get Chrissy out, he didn’t like the weight hanging over her and Eddie, it felt like they were being slowly suffocated.

He wanted to bring the two of them home. He just had to get through this month and all would be well.

With Chrissy on his arm, Robin by his side and Eddie next to her, Steve took the first step up the stone stairs.

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 5] [AO3] [Cover Art] [Eddie&Chrissy Art]

As always, major thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work, @arelliann for their beautiful artwork, dividers and header, and to all my cheerleaders helping to keep me motivated. 🥰

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #steddie fanfic #fanfic #steddie fic #royal au #royal pain #arelliann #steddiebang24

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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 1 year ago

Text

If There's Bleach In The Hallways (I Can Start Over) - reality tv star!Rafe Cameron x Reader

I Feel You Underneath My Tongue (Next To Every Word That I Should Have Said): Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Topper gets a distraught you home from your disastrous Hawaiian vacation where you proceed to crumble. You’re, understandably, upset and made even more so when about a week later, Rafe shows up at your place. And as much as you didn’t want to at first? There was too much history there. You had to let him in. And you had to hear him out.

CW/TWs: angst, female reader implied, cursing, toxic relationships afoot, implied previous physical violence, verbal harassment/abuse, implied sexual harassment, not the most edited/reviewed (read: at all)

Words: 5.7k+

Note: God help me I just needed this to be done so apologies that if it's not good I simply needed this out of my draftsssss Rounding out this little thing with pretty boy blondie Drew again. Anywayssssss here’s the second part as promised besties.

You’d hardly been aware of your actions when you’d left Oahu. You’d hardly left the stupid resort Are You The One? was filming at when you’d taken your phone out and found the only familiar contact that felt reliable anymore. Topper’s, of course. You wouldn’t say that you’d won him in your break up with Rafe, exactly. But he was one of your only mutual friends who didn’t for a moment question why you’d initially broken up with him. He’d been the one to console you, understanding that no matter how much you loved him—and dear God, you fucking loved him—you couldn’t be with him anymore. Couldn’t enable his bullshit. It hurt too much...you and Rafe both. Way too fucking much. Even through the haze over your thoughts, you’d recognized that as Topper answered the phone when you called, he wasn’t surprised.

“Top,” you said, voice strangely flat and devoid of emotion.

“What’s up?” he asked, immediately worried based on the sound of your voice. You didn’t answer for a moment, swept up in thought and your throat closing against the threat of you crying. He said your name and you snapped out of it, blinking rapidly. “You okay?”

“No,” you said honestly, gripping your bag in hand at your side tighter. “I’m coming to Kona.”

“You just got there like yesterday,” Topper said hesitantly, clearly anticipating that something bad had happened.

“Yeah. And you were right. I shouldn’t have come in the first place,” you muttered. Topper began to ask but you immediately, curtly, cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m catching the first flight over. I don’t even care how much it costs I need to get the fuck out of here.” You drew in a haggard breath. “I really can’t do this anymore, Top.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he hurried to say. “Don’t freak out. I got you. Did you book a flight?”

“Not yet,” you replied dully.

“Okay. I’ll look at them right now,” he said. You heard the sound quality of the phone shifted as he put you on speaker. He was silent for about a minute before speaking again. “Okay. There’s a flight leaving in two hours from Oahu to Kona. Can you get to the airport quick? I’ll book the ticket for you.”

“Yeah,” you replied, voice hoarse and cracking. You sniffled, suddenly flooded with emotion. “I…thanks, Top.” He said your name softly, sadly and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. “Please…don’t. Not…not now. Please?”

Topper sighed, sounding far more tired than you would’ve preferred. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll talk about it later. Just get to the airport. I’m not going to book you a second one if you’re fucking around.”

The attempt to make you laugh failed. Miserably. “Thank you, Top,” you said a final time before hanging up.

You took a few shallow breaths in a desperate attempt to steady yourself, but at the end of the day, it didn’t do much to calm your frazzled nerves. So, instead, you used the keyed up—if erratic—energy to focus on getting to the airport as fast as you could humanly do so. Even safety went out the window. In your haze and desire to be left alone in the meantime, and to avoid being on your phone and risk your own weakness letting you go and look at old pictures of you and Rafe, you didn’t let yourself take your phone from your pocket once you’d shoved it in there. So, instead of doing the logical thing like calling a taxi…taking a bus…literally anything normal? You decided to hitchhike your way there.

Miracle of miracles, you made it to the airport untouched and uninjured by all accounts. With your bag in hand, you shuffled through the airport. You checked in and printed a ticket so you wouldn’t have to turn your phone on. You went through security without even being conscious of your movements. You shuffled to your gate and sat, staring blankly with the extra ten minutes you had before boarding. After you were in your seat, still you didn’t seem to fully fathom what was going on…where you were, even.

When the plane took off, it was like you snapped back into your body.

You wished you hadn’t.

It turned out that trying not to cry on a plane was a lot harder when you were being hit with a torrent of emotions that threatened to sweep you entirely away. And, you also were fairly confident that there was nothing in this world that would be worse…would be more humiliating than sobbing in a plane with some fucking stranger next to you. And the guy next to you, dressed in a crisp business suit, severe look on his face, was already eyeing you as if you were a fucking bomb set to go off. So, the flight was terrible…but hey, you’d expected almost nothing less.

When the plane touched down in Kona, you were ready to scream from relief. You got off as quickly as you could and stood waiting for your baggage, your emotions all over the place and nowhere at all again. You jumped when you felt someone touch your shoulder and whipped around. Unsurprisingly, it was Topper standing behind you with a worried look on his face. Your heart skipped a beat and you frowned back at him before folding yourself into his arms in a tight hug.

“Hey, come on,” Topper said, hugging you back tightly, rubbing your back soothingly. “Let’s get your bag and get to the hotel, okay?”

Angel that he was, Topper grabbed your bag for you as it came around on the belt and then guided you to his rental car. He didn’t badger you as he drove to the hotel or even on the way up to his suite. He managed to keep it together until you reached the room. You didn’t offer a word as you got in the room, instead going directly into the bathroom and locking the door behind you. You took a long, almost scalding hot shower, and stayed as long as you could justify. But, you knew you couldn’t stall any longer.

“You gonna talk to me now?” Topper asked calmly when you finally exited the bathroom.

“I don’t…know what to say,” you replied blankly.

“How about you start with what happened,” he suggested. “I’ve…never seen you like this.”

You were silent for a few moments. You tried to think of what exactly you should say. “You…you were right. This was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have come,” you managed to say. What you’d seen, what you’d heard all ricocheted through your head like a stray bullet and lodged itself in your heart again. You let out a shaky sigh. “It was a fucking terrible idea, Top.”

“What happened?” Topper asked. He moved in front of you, kneeling down. He grabbed your hands and waited until you looked up at him. “It’s me.” He said your name when you looked away to draw your eyes back to him. “Just talk to me. What did he…what happened?” He was cut off for a moment by the buzzing of his phone. He took it out reflexively and looked down. His brow furrowed immediately. “Why did Rafe text me and tell me your dad is there now?” His eyes locked on yours again, his gaze sharper…more concerned now. “Tell me.”

You sighed and briefly closed your eyes at the news. You were glad that Rafe wasn’t alone; that was good news. You still didn’t want to think about…any of this mess. At all. But, you gave Topper a brief synopsis of the mess that had played out. Of Thalia’s psychotic ass. Her hitting Rafe. Rafe being so…downtrodden. You being a mistake, according to Rafe. By the time you were done speaking, Topper looked quite like he was sucking on a rancid lemon.

“Fucking Christ that idiot can never make things easy for himself can he,” Topper muttered. He moved from kneeling in front of you to sit next to you. “That’s fucked. So fucked. I’m sorry.” You shrugged, not letting yourself look over at him. Topper gently nudged your shoulder and said your name softly.

You closed your eyes again and shook your head. “Please don’t,” you said, voice wobbling.

Again, Topper said your name, imploring now. “Come here.”

Despite everything inside you being stubborn, you cracked. You turned into Topper and started sobbing. You sunk into his embrace embarrassingly quickly as you cried, holding onto him like he was your last lifeline in the world; right now he kind of was.

“I can’t believe…” you sobbed, unable to breathe properly, “and he was…”

“I know,” Topper said, running his hand soothingly up and down your back. And he did. You weren’t speaking any coherent thoughts and still it was blindly obvious what was going on—what you were thinking. “I got you.”

And he did. He held you as you sobbed yourself to sleep. He stayed with you as you walked in an emotionless haze through the whole of the following day. He sat by your side in the airport when you were going to be flying home the day after that, monitoring your face for any sign that you were going to break down. He wanted to be there for you. You loved him for it. You…you should’ve loved him more for it. But, you were starting to get to a point of wanting to lash out. It was irrational and it made you hate yourself but you needed to be by yourself for a moment. You needed to lick your wounds and deal with your torched pride. Graciously, you were torn from the reality of Topper’s intense concern by your phone ringing. Less wonderfully, it was your father calling.

“Dad,” you greeted blankly.

“I took care of it,” he said without preamble. “Everything’s being handled. Rafe’s going to be…fine. On the entertainment side, at least.”

“That’s good,” you replied, the words hollow. You stared at the door of your gate, itching for it to open already.

“Rafe’s doing okay otherwise too. I just put him up in a room with me so I could keep an eye on him. He’s been a little out of it, a little quiet. Nothing too bad though,” he explained, unprompted. You bit back the urge to point out that it was probably because he was in the room with your father and not because Rafe was actually okay.

“Oh that’s good,” you repeated. Your dad sighed and then your name slipped from his lips. Immediately you knew you were going to get a pseudo lecture; you tried to stop it. “Dad, just leave it. Please.”

“Listen, honey,” he said softly, ignoring your request. “I just…I need you to know this, okay?” He took your steely silence as a go-ahead to keep speaking. “You don’t understand why he was there, sweetheart. It’s not what you think. He didn’t…he shouldn’t have been. And he didn’t want to be.”

“But he was,” you interrupted, your voice showing emotion for the first time in the conversation.

“And I watched the footage,” your dad rebuked. “I know what was actually going on. I know what was actually said. I combed through hours of footage—any time the camera was on him, confessionals, the house and everything. I read the interviews that went into casting. All of it. I know everything that went on. And, honey, I’m telling you this as your dad. You should hear Rafe out. It isn’t what you think it was. And I know you love him. I know you want to hear him out. Don’t you think you should at least give him the chance to explain without you putting words he never said into his mouth?”

You were saved from having to reply to your father by the gate agent calling for your group to start boarding. “I have to go. My plane is boarding,” you stated curtly before hanging up the phone. You glanced over at Topper who was looking at you with a forcibly uninterested face. You rolled your eyes, cracking a half-smile for the first time in days. You pushed his shoulder weakly before standing up. “Don’t look at me like that, loser.”

“Not looking at you like anything,” Topper lied—poorly, you’d like to add—before rising to his feet as well. “Come on. Let’s get home.”

“Please,” you muttered, following dutifully behind him as you got in line to board.

Despite the brief pockets of joy that you were able to extract on your flight home, when you landed, you were back in this place of despondence and misery. You made your way home in a cab, refusing Topper’s offer for a ride. And when you got home you turned off your phone entirely and laid in your bed in a cocoon of pathetic misery that made you hate yourself all the more. It felt like you were mourning your relationship with Rafe. Just now. After months of not being together. This…this felt final in a strange sort of way. A way that made you sad. It went on for days, you only leaving your bed to do the bare minimum to keep yourself going. Your entire apartment became a den of sadness that you didn’t know when you’d be able to peel yourself out of it.

Often, your mind oscillated between missing Rafe and hating Rafe. Mourning your love for him and longing for it. It was disorienting and infuriating. It felt like it’d never fucking end. You barely were conscious of the fact that people would be concerned that you weren’t answering your phone at all—it didn’t even cross your mind, in truth. You didn’t care. All you could think of was the resigned look on Rafe’s face, the quiet acceptance, when he’d been hit. It wasn’t surprise. It was just…tolerance. It burned you. And if you bitterly contrasted that to the smiles he’d had with you…even when you weren’t together…it made you feel sick.

Reality came knocking again though.

Literally.

When you’d been home and steadfastly ignoring absolutely everything for about a week, there was a knock at your door. As if your brain suddenly registered how long it had been since you’d spoken to…well, anyone…you winced and stood from your couch where you’d settled a few hours earlier. You were certain it was Topper at the door ready to chew you out for scaring him by not answering. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you probably deserved it too. You sighed as you moved to open the door, resigned to being scolded.

“Listen, Top,” you began as soon as you started opening the door.

You immediately fell silent.

That…was not Topper.

That was Rafe.

You were stunned to see him. Far more than you cared to admit it. You glanced him over, feeling a little bit like a computer being forced to reboot. His bleached hair—which had looked annoyingly good on him, even though you hated seeing it—had been cut. Now, with his hair shorter, it looked like he had the frosted tips he’d always made fun of Topper for having when your friend had rocked the look. A stupid detail to focus on by all accounts. But, if you were looking at his hair instead of his face…you might be able to keep it together.

Your name falling from Rafe’s lips was what brought you out of your state. “Can I come in?” he asked, voice strangely gentle.

“I…” you trailed off. You didn’t know how to finish it. I want you to come in and never leave? I don’t think that’s a good idea? I want you to leave? I never want to see you again? No. None of that. So instead you shook your head to clear it. “Umm…sure.” You stepped to the side and let him in, shutting the door behind him. You went back to your spot on the couch and sat, looking at him warily. “What are you doing here?”

Rafe shrugged, not looking at you. He stood awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot in a way that was so unlike him it was jarring. “Topper said you haven’t been answering him,” Rafe explained. “Some, uh, some of your friends called me too. Said you haven’t been answering them either.”

“Phone’s been off,” you replied, shrugging in turn. “Been tired, don’t feel like dealing with everyone else right now.” You gave him a flat look. “Again, why are you here, Rafe?”

“I need to talk to you,” he said, sounding almost apologetic for it.

You blew out a breath and closed your eyes. You leaned your head back against your couch and resisted the bitter urge to laugh. “Here we go,” you muttered. You raised your head and looked at him. “We’re really gonna do this again?” You shook your head. “Rafe I’m tired. Of this. There…what conversation are we going to have that’ll fix anything? Oh yeah. None.”

He bit his lip and shifted, uncomfortable. He looked terrified and it made you feel on edge yourself. “I know. I know…I know you feel that way. But…I…please?” he said. He gave you an imploring look and said your name pointedly. “Please hear me out. This…this whole thing? It isn’t what you think.”

You let out an ugly snort, unable to stop yourself from glaring at him. “Oh, then by all means. Sure. Go ahead and try to sell me on another story, Cameron. This oughta be good, right?” you posed, acidic in presentation. He flinched at the words—the tone—but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad for it. You shifted. “And can you sit down for fuck’s sake if you’re gonna tell me some story? You’re making me nervous just standing there.”

Rafe nodded jerkily and immediately sat on the chair next to the couch. His eyes were focused intently on you. “I never wanted this to happen. Any of it. I wanted…I wanted to get better. For…you at first. But…then for me. But that…it didn’t matter at first…when we…when we first broke up,” he began. You didn’t bother reacting, simply raising a brow to prompt him to keep speaking. “In the time that we, uh, weren’t talking after we broke up? When I…when I went on the bender we talked about?” Your nose scrunched up, remembering well the time period that very nearly killed him. “That was when I decided to get clean. When I went to my first meeting. I realized that, uh, not remembering most nights was actually…actually, uh, kind of scary. It wasn’t…helping anymore.”

“Real big of you to realize,” you muttered, shaking your head. You folded your hands tightly in front of you and looked at him. “Look, Rafe, what does this even—”

“Please just let me get through this,” he said, openly sounding like he was begging. “When I was on the bender…I guess I applied to be a contestant. I don’t…remember it. They…I…I only saw my audition tape because of your dad. And I…I was so messed up. Everything on the applications and in the tape were incoherent. I…I don’t know how…” He trailed off, swallowing hard and shook his head. “I didn’t remember applying for the stupid show.” He said your name once more, softer, begging you to hear him and believe him. “I…you know I just wanted you again.”

“I don’t know anything,” you denied, voice cool. “Don’t bring me into this Rafe.”

He sighed and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “They called me and said that I’ve been selected. You…I don’t know. It was going to be a lot of fucking money to get out of it. Money I don’t have. Money that my dad wasn’t gonna front me. I…I needed to go. It was the only way. It…it felt like the only way. I…should’ve just talked to your dad first. There were about fifty clauses that could’ve gotten me out of it.” He shook his head and let out a laugh. “But I went. And…the second I got there I knew how big of a fucking mistake it was.”

His face went sour and he stopped speaking for a moment. His eyes were locked on the coffee table between you two. He wasn’t speaking. Wasn’t blinking. Didn’t look like he was breathing. It went on for a few seconds too long and you shifted.

“Rafe,” you prompted quietly, narrowly resisting the urge to reach out and touch him.

He cleared his throat, snapping out of it. “The second I met…Thalia…I knew she had to be the one for me on the show. The way that she was from the beginning? The…the type of person she was? It was the exact type of person I knew I deserved. And I…it made sense why we’d be a match to the producers. I was…a mess, obviously. But…when you left…as…as you should have…I’m…I’m not discounting that,” he emphasized, “it just changed something. I didn’t think I deserved as good as I got from you. Didn’t think that I deserved anything good. So, when she was awful to me…to anyone in the house? I knew she had to be for me. Because who the fuck else would deserve that?”

You stiffened at his words, looking incredulously at him. “No one!” you interrupted. “Why would you think that way? You…you didn’t…you were not a match the producers are fucking idiots who care about making a show that sells, not about the contestants!”

“I know,” Rafe said quietly. “Doesn’t mean that I deserve good things in life. Because I have been…repeatedly and constantly fucking horrible. I’m…I’m not blind to that. I…there’s a reason people don’t want to help me or give me credit for good things. It’s because I have so much shit to make up for. The tiny slivers of good I do don’t cancel out the heaps of bad I’ve done. I know that. I…I do.”

“What the hell are you saying?” you demanded. “Really! I’m fucking lost here, Rafe! You…you are a fucking idiot, man. All I have ever done is love you and try to get you to let me love you. Literally constantly. Since we were kids Rafe! All I have done is try to make you see that you do deserve credit—that you do deserve help.”

Rafe closed his eyes. “I know you have,” he agreed. “But…that doesn’t make it…right. If I deserved better, don’t you think I’d get it? But you? You? You deserve someone who takes care of you and who loves you. Someone who can stand by your side and be proud and unflinching. Someone who doesn’t care about what other people think.” He let out a laugh—it didn’t sound very amused. “Someone who will actually defend you.” He looked seriously at you. “I couldn’t even step in and say anything when Thalia was bad mouthing you. And you think I’m gonna believe I deserve someone as good as you? Yeah, no. I’m too much of a fucking coward. I never went against her. I deserved to be paraded around that stupid fucking villa by her and…”

He trailed off and you felt sick for a moment. You’d seen the show. It wasn’t hard to guess where she’d dragged Rafe off to or anything of that nature. You clenched and unclenched your jaw, trying to force yourself to relax.

“Tell me something, though, Rafe. Did you…want to be dragged around by her? Did you want anything you…did with her? Just…be honest.” His face scrunched up. “It’s not a trick question. I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” He shook his head. “And how often did she tear into you for no reason? How many times? And…and for that matter, how many times did she put her hands on you and hit you—hurt you?” You gesticulated wildly, trying to help convey your point, but really just helping alleviate some of your frustration. “You didn’t deserve to be paraded around and used. And of course you didn’t go against her!”

“I hurt you,” Rafe said, his tone severe, his eyes dark as he thought of it.

“Dear God,” you groaned. “Yeah, you did fucking hurt me Rafe. Guess what? Normal fucking Tuesday for us when we’re not together, isn’t it? We always manage to fuck up and hurt each other. But guess what, Rafe? You were in an impossible situation. I get that. I know that, even though you apparently don’t.”

“Doesn’t make it okay,” he argued. “I don’t…you shouldn’t forgive me for that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure I’m the one who gets to decide that,” you shot back. You sighed and gave him an imploring look of your own. “Rafe…why would I ever hold it against you? Especially when I know you were trying not to get hit? I’m begging you, for once in your life, use the brain in your pretty little head and think. Why would I ever blame you for that?”

He didn’t look sold. “I don’t know, because I hurt you,” he said as if that were the only thing that mattered in the world. “Because I didn’t prioritize your feelings like I should have.”

So, you changed tactics.

“What would you…” you trailed off. “How would you feel if it were me, Rafe?”

The look on Rafe’s face immediately hardened. “Well, I would have killed him,” he said, voice harsh. “No one’s putting a hand on you.” You nodded, cocking your head to the side. His angry face cracked and he sighed, slumping back into the chair. “I wouldn’t hold it against you. I’d just be…I’d just be worried.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you said softly, looking at him, eyes soft and sad. “Now you know how I feel.” Slowly, you scooted down the couch until you were next to him. You reached out and gently grabbed his hand. He looked at it and then up at you, startled. “Listen to me, okay?” He kept looking at you, attention raptly on you. “I love you, Rafe. I love you so much. I always will. The…nothing about this experience was good for you.” He went to add something but you cut him off. “Or me. But that doesn’t matter—not when you’re the one in the most pain here. And no matter what? It doesn’t change that I love you.”

You watched as tears rose in his eyes. He immediately retracted his hand from your hold and leaned away, his head on the back of the chair. He closed his eyes as if trying to stop the tears, but it didn’t work. You saw the tears sliding down his face even with his eyes closed. He let out a small sob and you felt tears rise in your own eyes—impressive when you’d thought you’d run out of tears for the week. Moving slowly, you reached out again and grabbed both of his hands, holding them and giving a reassuring squeeze. He raised his head after a moment and opened his eyes.

He was sad—so sad.

He was in pain—so much pain.

“I…I don’t think that I…don’t think I could’ve stopped it without you,” he admitted, voice shaky.

You frowned. “I don’t think you would’ve, no,” you agreed, hating it even as the words fell out. “You’re too convinced you deserve that. But you don’t. You deserve love. Real love.”

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes again, squeezing your hands. “Thanks for calling your dad,” he said lamely after a moment.

“I hope he tears them several new fucking assholes,” you replied back quietly. Without much thought behind it, you raised your joined hands up to your lips and pressed a soft kiss to his hands. You heard his breath hitch and your brain caught up with the action. You immediately released him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry. Habit. That was…sorry.”

Slowly himself this time, Rafe reached out and took your hands again, squeezing them. “It’s okay,” he assured you. You squeezed his hands back and offered a small smile. “I am sorry. So sorry. I just…you deserved…you deserve so much better.”

“It’s not…not your fault, Rafe,” you said, at a loss for anything else to say. The words were only partially true and you both knew it.

“I’m still sober, by the way,” Rafe blurted out, seemingly out of nowhere. You furrowed your brow and his face flushed. “I mean…I refused to drink anything or take anything. They…they tried to make me but I refused.” His face was grim and drawn, clearly remembering something. And you had no doubt that those conversations had been awful—even with his stubborn nature, you could only imagine what production crew and cast mates had said to try to get him to drink.

You squeezed your still joined hands and shuffled a little bit closer. You already felt terrible for having thrown that in his face when you were pissed—now you just felt worse. “I’m proud of you,” you said, nodding encouragingly at him. “That’s amazing. I can’t…imagine how hard that was. I know it had to be terrible.”

He gave you a shaky smile and then looked down, the look disappearing. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you,” he said, eyes locked on his lap. “It all…it all happened so fast. Before I knew what was going on really…I was already on a plane to Hawaii. They took our phones the second we got there. I just…I’m sorry. For all of it.”

“Rafe, I don’t blame you for that part at all. I…I wish you would’ve told me…but, I get it. That…they isolate you. I just…I get it,” you said, unable to form your own coherent thoughts as you absorbed that. You had figured it was something like that, but the confirmation just made your irritation spike.

“Do you…” he began, the words seeming to get stuck on his tongue. “Do you think you can forgive me?”

You looked at him, mystified. “What?” you asked.

He looked up at you again, his eyes wide and fearful. “I know it was terrible and I shouldn’t have asked. I’ve done so much to—” he started rambling.

You cut him off by putting your hand gently over his mouth. A habit you’d long since picked up for when he was talking too damn much or running his mouth like an idiot. And he returned with the habit he’d long since picked up of licking your hand to get it away from him. Unlike your usual response to that though, you didn’t move your hand this time.

“After you have undergone…all of that bullshit on that fucking show…of which I know almost nothing and I still know it was bad…after all that…me forgiving you is what you’re worried about?” you asked incredulously.

You moved your hand at that point and watched his cheeks pink at that question. “Yeah,” he admitted easily enough.

“You…Rafe…I need you to get into fucking therapy,” you said, shaking your head. “Why the hell would I be mad at you for getting taken advantage of? Sober you wasn’t the one who applied. It was fifty thousand dollars on the line that you didn’t have. You were being…abused. Why the hell would I be mad at you? What am I supposed to forgive you for? Being an idiot when you’re drunk or high? Well then sure, baby, that’s forgiven as long as you stop doing it.”

“But—”

“No,” you emphasized. “Rafe, I need you to listen to me. Again, I love you. More than anything. I need you to go to therapy. I need you to take it seriously. I need you to get better. Seeing you hurt like this? Seeing you hurt yourself, let others hurt you…thinking you deserve it? I can’t do that. Baby, I need you to understand that you are, independent of everything, worthy of love and affection. Just as you are now. No changes. And I need you to get that I already do love you. Your friends love you. Hell, my friends still love you after all this shit. The whole damn thing. I need you to know that. You are not alone, you should never be or feel alone. You deserve good things. You deserve us all in your life.”

This time, Rafe’s the one to pull his hands away from you. You see his eyes well up again and notice that his chest was moving erratically. He looked away from you, sniffling and your heart shattered. You moved to the edge of the couch, leaning over into his space slowly, giving him ample time to tell you to fuck off or to move himself. He didn’t.

“Baby,” you implored softly, hand on his knee delicately. He let out a shuddering breath and then you moved closer still and wrapped your arms around him. He froze for a moment, but melted into your embrace, going as far as pulling you fully onto him so he could hug you tighter. You responded in kind by wrapping your arms tightly around him. “I got you.”

“I’m so—”

“Stop apologizing,” you urged. “I don’t want you to be sorry. Not for me.” You pressed a kiss to his temple. You pushed your hurt aside, knowing that it wasn’t at this moment, the biggest hurdle—you’d get there when you got there. He was more important in this moment. “We’ll get you through this. We’ll get through this, baby.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead and let out a sigh, tightening your arms. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you.”

“I love you,” he choked out.

Your heart stuttered in your chest and you forced yourself to keep breathing normally. “I love you too,” you assured him.

You really fucking did—God help you, you did.

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thelightsandtheroses · 1 year ago

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Secret Smile: Tangled Webs (Chapter Four)

Secret Smile | Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye you her. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.

Word Count: 2.7k Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, language, reader has a nickname (Blue) but no physical descriptors used Author Notes: As always, thank you for all your feedback, likes and reblogs so far – it means a lot and I’m having so much fun writing this fic. I’d love to know what you think of this next chapter so please feel free to comment, reblog or even send an ask!

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“Did you hear about the senators?” Javi asks you as you slide his office door shut behind you and immediately make a beeline for the black leather couch.

“I did,” you say, taking a long gulp of coffee and then trying to mask your scowl. Instant. Not your favourite. It’s better than nothing, or at least that’s what you’re trying to convince yourself. If you’re tired enough and add enough milk and sugar then it’s almost palatable. It’s better than the coffee at your last office at least, not that that is a particularly high bar. You’re not sure it could even legally be classed as coffee at your last office.

After you impulsively turned up at his apartment, Javi and you have started to work out a tentative peace. Maybe he’s realised that you want real justice too, that you also need to bring these people to account. You want to help him do this the right way.

The two of you spent part of the evening brainstorming ways to move the case forward, trying to find a route that wouldn’t directly compromise the surrender agreement in progress yet, but would allow Javi to pursue real consequences.

Money.

No matter how much you try, it eventually will leave a trail. You’d been told by a colleague about a banking glitch abroad that led to right here in Bogota. This might be the lucky break that could help Javi right now. The two of you have agreed that Javi should use this to obtain the data he needs on who is behind the money for the cartel. If he gets this, it will help him solidify the case and get some strong evidence too.

“So, the Clinton list? You’re going ahead with that option?” you ask. It’s the simplest way to get the bank to work with Javi and technically it’s by the book.

“I’ve already asked Stoddard to get onto that,” Javi says.

“Okay, so now you’re just showing off that you have a team.”

Javi tilts his head before asking with an innocent voice, “Oh, do you not?”

You finish crumpling up a piece of paper and throw it at him. He catches it, cocking an eyebrow with a mischievous expression.

“Really, resorting to violence now, are we, Blue? Assaulting an attaché?”

“Only people from home have ever called me that,” you say softly, “it’s kind of weird hearing it again.”

“Does it bother you then?”

“No … it’s nice, I think.”

“Do you miss Laredo?” he asks, a strange expression on his face.

“I don’t know. Sometimes. Maybe a little, but not as much as I think I should. I miss some of the people; my friends, Sofia, Rafa, my parents. I just don’t - I don’t know, I always wanted to get out and be in a city or a new place, to explore and not be in a small town. Do you know what I mean?”

“I’m the same.” He pauses and looks ahead with a thoughtful expression.

“It’s kind of weird though, that we’re both here at the same time” you add, ”I have a friend who is really into fate and superstitions and horoscopes -“

Javi snorts at the mention of horoscopes and you shake your head at him.

“Anyway, she talks a lot about kismet - fate and destiny and all that. Maybe that’s why we’re both here. We can stop Cali together.”

“That would be nice.”

There’s a strange tension in the air for a minute, Javi’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before and his expression is otherwise unreadable.

He exhales deeply and then says, “I’m meeting the bank as soon as I’m done with the senators and the bank already know what I’m coming with so they should have something for me when I get there.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got a contact; they might know whoever the money person is. Tomorrow - tomorrow we get them.”

“Good. And what about your agents you authorised to go to Cali, without uh - any approval? Thanks for that by the way, loved the grilling from the ambassador. He was so incensed he didn’t even wait until 9am to summon me.”

“They’re heading out this morning. Feistl got a warrant ready, just in case,” Javi says. “I’m still not sure if we can trust - it’s worth a try though.”

“That’s good, I’m glad he got the warrant.” That makes your job easier, you think, less likely to cause another drama with the ambassador. If their visit does turn up something, they’re prepared and with a warrant ready they can quickly act. You’re learning that timing is everything for the DEA.

“I’ll be reminding them when we speak- everything by the book,” he says with a wry smile.

“Good. Do you think you can trust the local police?”

“I don’t think I can trust anybody, Blue.”

“Even me?” you ask, hurt permeating your voice. You look down at the floor in embarrassment.

Javi trusts a local journalist more than he trusts you at the moment. He’s supposed to know you. He’s known you for years.

“I want to,” he says quietly. “Do you trust me?”

You pause, exhaling heavily. “I want to as well.”

Javi’s office falls silent. You can hear the muffled hum of noise around the glass walls, people arriving for their day of work.

“Are you going to the big meeting then when they arrive?”

Javi pulls a face. “I have to. You?”

“Oh, no. That’s for the extra special boys’ club, Javi, I’m not invited to that.” You don’t mean to sound bitter; you’re not even surprised and your job is far less glamorous sounding than Javi’s anyway. Accountability and legal motions aren’t the sexiest of discussion topics.

“Count yourself lucky. Besides, it’s their loss. You’re smarter than Stechner and Crosby.”

“Why, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you say with an overly sweet voice, watching Javi roll his eyes in response.

“Don’t get used to it,” Javi says, a lopsided smirk on his face.

The damn phone has no signal out here.

Javi had a plan. Get Jurado, make his case, do it by the book. The plane was ready, he was ready. Then Stechner came along, those stupid VIP guests came along.

Now he’s sweating through his shirt in the middle of the jungle in uncomfortable shoes and desperate for a cigarette.

Fuck the gum.

No one could have endured that helicopter flight, had to deal with damn idiots trying to talk over the headphones and helicopter noise, without needing a cigarette.

Besides quitting smoking was meant to be a signal. The new and improved Javier Peña, getting it right this time and taking down a cartel. Only the past can’t be ignored. No one will let him forget; they rarely explicitly accuse him, but too many people know what Javi did. Too many people still judge him for that, even Captain Hernandez.

Javi told Steve once that sometimes you had to do bad things to catch bad people.

Maybe he was wrong.

Maybe he’s only made things worse.

He just can’t seem to get it right.

Javi breaks from his reverie, holds his phone up one more time.

Javi has no idea what’s happening with Feistl and Van Ness, no clue whether Stoddard has been able to get anywhere with Panama. He’s not sure if you’re helping. He’s still not sure if he can trust you, as much as he wants to.

Javi can’t be here.

He can’t be part of this charade; play the role of a hero, pretend that this isn’t a giant set-up. What’s Stechner thinking with this?

Javi hears a noise, looks around and sees the army liaison who Stechner had introduced to the senators earlier.

Javi looks exhausted when you finally see him again. More than that, he’s more visibly frustrated and annoyed than you’ve ever seen him before.

Linda had told you that the senators had insisted he join them on their visit, whether he wanted to or not. You knew how much Javi had prepared for the day. The senators wanted to hear from a ‘real life hero’ though and they could control the DEA’s money for this mission. You can only imagine how delighted Javi had been with the whole sorry mess.

You hadn’t quite expected him to return like this though.

When he left the office in the morning, he had been focused, motivated, and smartly dressed. Now, you notice his shoes are covered in dirt and mud; that they look ruined. The difference isn’t just his clothes, there’s something changed in his eyes, something you can’t identify but you know that don’t want to ever see in him again.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? You really went on a day trip to the rainforest in your best shoes?” you ask sweetly. “The attaché salaries must be even better than I thought.”

“Don’t. Don’t even fucking go there, Blue.”

“I’m trying really hard to take your threat seriously, but Javi have you looked at yourself?”

Javi stands up straight. “You heard then? I was meant to go to fucking Panama, had the plane and everything ready.”

“The senators and Stechner had other ideas, I’m afraid.”

“It was a goddamn joke, Blue.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a setup. Nothing was real - just a show, like this whole damn thing is. This - this is all bullshit.”

You’re not sure how to reply to that and instead awkwardly fidget with the paper file you were organising.

“Stoddard said it didn’t go anywhere with Jurado.” Javi’s whole body sinks into the office chair next to your desk and he pinches his brow.

“Nope,” he says, each syllable clearly pronounced.

“Shit.”

“Yep.”

“So, did Feistl and Van Ness come up with anything?” you ask, hoping that things aren’t entirely lost for Javi’s investigation.

“They did. The police are keeping it all though. They think there might be another angle, but fuck.” Javi shakes his head.

You lean against his desk and look down at the floor, trying to bring to mind some comforting words, the right thing to say. You don’t know what to do. There’s no simple solution here; no sudden legal clause or clever argument you can pull out to make everything better and get what you need back in evidence or convince a jury. This is all so different to what you are used to; a side of investigations and cases you’ve never seen before.

“So, where are we left?” you ask, thinking aloud. “Jurado’s not an option until we can find out where he is. We need to - maybe your guys will come up with something in Cali, in the paperwork. I’ll call the police in the morning, see if I can do anything to help us get some of the evidence.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I think I’m a very convincing person, Javi.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are, Blue. Thing is, I’m not sure -” he pauses, leans back against the couch, “I don’t think we can trust the police contact Feistl and Van Ness are with. Not from what they’ve told me anyway.”

You think about his words, the small details you’ve heard from Stoddard today. “I think you’re right. They’re holding back on the evidence. Truthfully. they’re not going to work together with us easily. I mean, the rumour is the Rodriguez brothers own half of Cali anyway, right? It would make sense. We - your guys need to proceed with caution. There are things we can do, ways to protect this work and keep the case robust.”

You shake your head at his expression, place the paperwork file down on his desk. “We’ll sort it tomorrow; things will be better then.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, so don’t stay too late, Javi, it’s been a long day.”

“Wait, can I ask you a question?”

“If I was being mean, I’d say you just did,” you reply, folding your arms around you.

“Really, Blue? Okay, why don’t you want people to know we knew each other before the job? Is it me or -” Javi trails off and you wonder what happened during the trip to the jungle that prompted this.

You meet Javi’s gaze to try and read his expression. He looks almost guilty, as though he thinks you’re ashamed of knowing him. That doesn’t make sense because he’s Javi; he’s the hero of the DEA according to almost everyone. Stechner’s words and insinuations echo in your mind, the hints at what Javi may have done before, how desperate he was to get Escobar. Part of you doesn’t blame him for wanting to pursue justice - you can understand that desire, even if you don’t agree with what he was rumoured to have done.

If the rumours are true, it explains a lot about Javi now.

“No, it’s not you,” you say, taking a deep breath before you continue, “It’s the situation. It’s messy. I was technically recommended for this job by a friend and it is bad enough that the ambassador knows that. If it got around that you are my brother’s best friend? I got this job on my own merits and I-”

“Woah, woah, I didn’t say anything about how you got this job. I don’t even know how you got this job. Frankly I didn’t know there even was a job until you turned up.“

“I really thought you hated me for that.”

“Not you, Blue. Don’t hate you.”

“You wouldn’t have had to say anything about me getting this job. People make assumptions all the time. I’ve dealt with it my whole career, especially as I moved up, and I just wanted here to be different.” You needed here to be different. After everything that had went down in DC, this job was supposed to be a fresh start, an escape from everything you’d run away from. Only you’re rapidly wondering if you’ve jumped from the frying pan into the fire instead.

“I can understand that,” Javi finally says softly.

“It’s that one time that it really is me and not you,” you add with a grin.

“So, Blue, am I really Rafael’s best friend?” Javi asks with a crooked smile.

“If you ever tell him I told you that, I will kill you.”

“Promises, promises.”

You shake your head and look at Javi for a moment before saying, “I really should go, Javi. See you tomorrow.”

Stoddard knocks on the glass door and you quickly move off Javi’s desk, cross your arms as he walks over to his desk and waves Stoddard in.

“Sir, we may have a problem. Feistl and Van Ness weren’t on their flight back.”

“Fuck.”

You look at Javi’s alarmed face and take a slow breath.

“Okay, have you tried to call them, Stoddard? No, then go do that!” Javi says.

”Maybe - maybe they caught a lead, Agent Peña. I can call someone at Cali, see if we can subtly make enquiries,” you say softly.

Javi nods and you hear him firmly instructing Stoddard on exactly what to do.

“Guess we’re not heading back right now then,” you say once it’s just the two of you in his office, both of you standing by his desk.

“Fucking Feistl,” Javi says, leaning his hands against the edge of the desk so you can see the hint of strained shoulder muscles beneath his shirt.

“You chose him to go to Cali,” you say lightly.

Javi sighs, stands up straight as he pinches his brow. “Technically he was just the only one who asked.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant, Javi.”

“Hey, at he least showed some initiative.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps he’s showing that initiative now.”

“Go home, it’s late. I’ll clean up here, stay and see if they call.”

“Javi -”

“This part is my job, Blue, not yours. I’ve got it covered.”

“Okay. Promise you’ll call if you need anything? You have my phone and my pager, right?”

You squeeze Javi’s shoulder as you make a move to pick up your handbag, watch him start to organise the papers strewn on his desk.

Before you can leave the office, Javi’s office phone rings. You meet his eyes as he quickly answers.

“Peña,” he says. You carefully try and read his reaction, try to notice the way his face slightly relaxes before he asks, “Where the fuck have you been?”

When he hangs up the phone, he looks up at you with a smile.

“You were right.”

“I often am,” you joke breezily, “So, what was I right about?”

”They caught a lead.”

You smile broadly. “Oh, really?”

“We can get Gilberto Rodriguez. They found him.”

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another-dr-another · 9 days ago

Note

:/ i don’t really wanna use {Who Hated Higa} as definitive evidence, bc they’re not as closely linked as the other two options, but it is worth discussing -iris

Maeda, narrating - We still have this option…

Maeda - I don’t know if it’ll be enough- but at least it’ll be something!

Maeda - As long as we’re making progress, I should be happy.

Maeda - Let’s just see where this takes us.

~*~

Maeda - Okay. Who hated Higa enough to kill him?

Maki - …

Tomori - I mean… murder is a more drastic resort- I don’t think we can say anyone wanted him gone badly enough they’d risk their own life, and endanger everyone else's.

Ōtori - Right.

Ōtori - I think it’s important we remember that, actually… whoever killed Higa put everyone’s life in danger. It has to have been worth it to them.

Maki - …Who hated him that bad?

Ōtori - …

Maeda - I don’t think we can say that anyone did.

Tsurugi - …

Maeda - …Let’s look at this the other way around. Is there anyone who we think wouldn’t have hurt Higa?

Tomori - …

Kobashikawa - None of us are… especially violence-prone- I mean, even if you aren’t just comparing us to Higa, that’s still true.

Taira - …

Maeda - …

Maki - …The only person we can clear from the list right now is Tsurugi, isn’t it?

//Maeda barely stops himself from sighing.

Maeda - Yeah, that’s what I thought too.

//Tsurugi’s head turns. Before Maeda’s even realized it, he’s made eye contact with Tsurugi. Immediately, Maeda feels frightened- because Tsurugi looks petrified.

Maeda - ???

//Tsurugi looks back to the floor, leaving Maeda reeling.

Ōtori - I mean, not like any of us had a positive opinion of Higa. Tsurugi’s going to be the only one who we think wouldn’t have killed him, huh?

Tomori - …Tsu didn’t think well of Higa either. He was just… sympathetic.

Tsurugi - …

Maeda - What’s got Tsurugi so off?

Tsurugi, suddenly - It was only me, huh?

Maeda - …Ah?

Tsurugi - …I’m not wrong, right?

Ōtori - …

Maki - …

//Finally, he looks up again- looking at Tomori this time.

Tsurugi - Tomori, were you optimistic?

Tomori - …

Tomori - I’m sorry. I really wasn’t.

Tsurugi - Don’t be sorry! I like your thoughts on things, Tomori, you’re smart. I trust you to know what’s right.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - …I did have hope for Higa, though.

Maeda - …Is Tsurugi mourning Higa?

Kobashikawa - …

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - Do you all feel like I took it too far with trying to support Higa? Did I ever make you all feel bad with what I chose…

Kobashikawa - …Personally, I never felt that way.

Kobashikawa - It sucked that Higa was around- but it seemed like your presence helped him stay more… regulated.

Maki - Mhm…

Maki - There’s only so ticked off he can get without exploding- I think you gave him a good distraction to keep from getting upset with everyone else.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - …Okay.

//Something about Tsurugi’s response reminds Maeda of…

Maeda - Like a kid that got scolded, and had to be told they aren’t in trouble.

Maeda - …Is that what Tsurugi was getting at earlier?

Maeda - …

//Maeda watches Tsurugi. He seems to be lost in thought again, already moving on from the subject.

Maeda - …Maybe he’s mourning what he hoped Higa would become.

Taira - Then, is everyone agreeing to remove Tsurugi as a suspect?

Maeda - I think that’s right. I can’t imagine Tsurugi going over and killing Higa… I mean, so suddenly- and for what reason?

Maeda - Everyone seems to agree.

//Sure enough, no one speaks up.

Taira - …

Kobashikawa - …Is there anyone else we can clear off of the list?

Maki - …I mean…

Maki - …

Kobashikawa - …

Maeda - …Huh.

Maeda - Maybe it’s less about naming people we think liked Higa, and more about looking into who would’ve gotten physical with him?

Maeda - Would Uehara have? It fits his bill, right?

Taira - Hm.

Hatano - …

Hatano - It’s Maki and Maeda then, right?

Maeda - .

Hatano - No one else has a history of stuff like that…

Maeda - …Fuck. Does no one else- has no one but me fought Higa?!

Maeda - Oh my god.

Tomori - Maki wouldn’t have attacked Higa… she hasn’t in the past, that’s not what she does.

Tomori - Any interaction she had with Higa was for the sake of bothering him…

Maeda - Oh, fuck me. I’m the only one who’s publicly attacked Higa.

Taira - Then, that leaves Maeda as the only person we’d suspect.

Maeda - Taira doesn’t think it was me, does she?

Maeda - But- that was so long ago!

Uehara - …First impressions…

Maeda - …He doesn’t seem like he’s trying to imply it was me, but I still don’t like that he’s saying that now! What the hell!

Ōtori - It’s true… we know Maeda would get physical with Higa, to try and stop him from doing anything… dickish.

Maeda - Shit shit shit shit.

Ōtori - But that doesn’t mean all too much, right?

Ōtori - Again, the blackened was risking everyone’s lives to end Higa’s. When Maeda fought Higa, it was to help everyone. The intent was to help the group, not to hurt Higa.

Ōtori - So, I don’t think we can use it as a guarantee that Maeda is the only person who’d… consider the weight of everyone’s lives, and decide that killing Higa was more important.

Maeda - R-Right…

Maeda - It’s Ōtori who’s stepping up for me…

Maeda - My goal was to keep somebody safe, not anything else.

Maeda - I didn’t have any reason to be near Higa last night- besides, I have my testimony…

Tsurugi - …

//He’s clearly looking at Maeda. Maeda notices this, and looks back, trying to question Tsurugi- he can’t tell what he’s trying to convey.

Maeda - ?...

//Tsurugi seems to be deliberating, but finally decides to speak-

Hatano - Then… who are our suspects?

//-But gets cut off.

Maeda - …I think Tsurugi was going to agree with me. I mean, I know I’m not the blackened, and Tsurugi thinks he’s working out what happened, so he should be on the same page as me- about my innocence, I mean.

Maeda - Mm… if we factor in everything we’ve discussed so far-

Maeda - We know from talking about who was asleep that it wasn’t Ōtori, Hatano, or Maki. Because we tested everyone’s strength, we know it wasn’t me, Uehara, or Kobashikawa.

Maki - Right. Then, we can take Tsurugi off, because he had faith in Higa.

Maeda - Mhm…

Maeda - If it isn’t Tsurugi, and he’s the only one we can take off our remaining list…

Maeda - …That leaves us with two people.

Taira - Myself, or Tomori.

Maeda - …Yeah.

Taira - …

Tsurugi - …

Maki - …

Tomori - …It has to be someone.

Maeda - …But, one of them? Is that really right?

Tomori - …

Tomori - …I’m probably stronger than Taira.

Taira - Really?

Maeda - Taira sounds genuinely surprised. I agree with Tomori…

Uehara - You wouldn’t have snapped and killed someone.

Taira - But you can say that I would have?

Uehara - …

Taira - …Hm.

//Tomori is clearly searching her head for a place to take the conversation, letting Maeda disregard her in favor of watching Taira and Uehara. Taira’s expression is steeled, while Uehara is glowering.

Uehara - …Whatever.

Taira - …

//The room is silent, everyone waiting in anticipation for someone to call out one of the two suspects.

Maki - …

Maki - Let’s- let’s go over our reasoning for striking people from the list, just quickly-

Maki - It couldn’t have been me, because Kobashikawa saw me asleep.

Kobashikawa - Yeah.

Maki - Couldn’t have been Ōtori, because Tsurugi saw him asleep.

Ōtori - Right. And we know that being asleep that point means you aren’t the killer, because you wouldn’t have woken up so quickly.

Maki - Yeah- and Hatano slept the night through, after falling asleep before the dining hall trip.

Kobashikawa - Mhm…

Maeda - I… I agree with all of this. It wasn’t any of those three.

Maeda - Six left.

Maki - Okay…

Maki - Kobashikawa couldn’t have strangled Higa, Maeda couldn’t have strangled Higa, and Uehara couldn’t have strangled Higa.

//Maki looks at Maeda. In response, he nods silently.

Maeda - I’m clear, and so are two others. We’re down to three.

Maki - Then, we can take Tsurugi off the list, because he lacks motive.

Maeda - Mhm. Tsurugi had no desire to attack Higa.

Maki - …

Taira - …

Tomori - …

Maki - …I can’t think of anything else we can use.

Maeda - There’s… there’s nothing left. Taira, or Tomori.

Kobashikawa - …

Kobashikawa - They were both close to Higa… both of them have the capacity for strangulation…

Taira - …

Tomori - …

//Neither student says anything. Tomori is clearly more nervous than Taira is… but Maeda doesn’t know if it’s fear of getting caught, or fear of everyone voting incorrectly.

Maeda - …Fuck. Is there really nothing else we can use?

//Despite himself, Maeda looks at Tsurugi. The timing seems rather perfect- he watches at Tsurugi rubs briefly at his face, before steadying himself on his podium.

Maeda - …

Maeda - A reaction like that… is it Tomori? He seems nauseous, and they’re definitely closer than Tsurugi and Taira…

Maeda - …I don’t think Tsurugi and Taira really get on, actually.

Maki - …We said we’d discuss everything again, didn’t we?

Hatano - Do you have something new you’ve thought of?

Maki - …

Maeda - Anything’s good, Maki!

Maeda - I’d kill for something to work with… wait- no- I take that back. I would really like something to work with.

Maki - …Well…

Maki - Are we sure it was strangulation?

Maeda - Motherfucker, it’s the thing that cleared me.

Maeda - Godddd damnit.

Hatano - Why would we doubt that it was strangulation?

Maki - Our reasoning for it isn’t too strong. We need to question everything, so we can explore every outcome without instant dismissal- and we really don’t have firm proof it was strangulation.

Maki - We said it was strangulation because the position of the body doesn’t match with suffocation, right?

Maki - But, we talked about rigor mortis, so everyone should know that the blackened would have been able to manipulate Higa’s body after killing him, because rigor mortis wouldn't have set in.

Maki - If we remember that the blackened was up after killing Higa, couldn’t it be that they positioned him more like he was sleeping, to avoid drawing suspicion, in case anyone woke up?

Maeda - Shit… I completely get her reasoning.

Maeda - That’s true… but this just adds Uehara, Kobashikawa, and myself back to the list of suspects.

Maeda - Is there any evidence that makes it look like it was one of us?

Maki - Fuck, I don’t know. I just want to make sure we don’t bury ourselves before we’ve looked at everything.

Maeda - …

Maeda - And she’s completely right for it. She’s doing exactly what she should- this just sucks.

Maeda - I can’t think of anything that singles out anyone if it was suffocation… I mean, not anything that feels strong.

Hatano - Kobashikawa had two pillows, right? Could he have used one of them to strangle Higa, since he was up?

Kobashikawa - That means nothing???

Hatano - I’m just suggesting it! Don’t get touchy…

Maki - Not- suggesting it was yours, Kobashikawa-

Maki - But I really do think we could get somewhere if we could work out what the origin of that pillow is…

Maeda - The blood stained one?

Maki - Mhm.

Uehara - Tsu keeps spares in his room…

Tsurugi - …

Maki - Oh- Tsurugi, was the pillow just a spare you had?

Tsurugi - …

//He just looks at Maki. Maeda can see the same hesitancy to speak that he saw in Tsurugi earlier.

Hatano - …Why do you have spares?

Tsurugi - …

//His eyes flick towards her, then back to the floor.

Hatano - …?

Tsurugi - …Mm-

Tomori and Uehara - Sleepovers.

Tomori - !

Uehara - …

Tomori - I-It’s because of sleepovers. I’ve spent the night in Tsurugi’s dorm before.

Hatano - Couldn’t go grab your own things?

Tomori - …

Tomori - Just because it wasn’t needed doesn’t mean it wasn’t nice…

//Tomori seems a bit stricken by what Hatano said- making Maeda think about it a bit more.

Maeda - …And Hatano was just suggesting it might be Kobashikawa… then, framing Tsurugi’s spare pillows as weird…

Maeda - I don’t think it’s anything malicious, though…

Uehara - Tsurugi just has a lot of stuff in his room. He also has bandages, and painkillers.

//Uehara shrugs.

Hatano - …

Ōtori - …

Ōtori - Okay, let’s stop for a moment.

Ōtori - Imagine that we hadn’t talked about sleep, or strength- who do we think could have killed Higa.

Maki - …You mean-

Maki - Like, from the perspective of who would have been willing to kill Higa?

Ōtori - To kill in general, since we’ve already established Higa wasn’t anyone’s friend.

Maki - …

Maki - Ōtori. You mean yourself?

Maki - You do realize you’re at the top of the list of people we think would attempt murder, right?!

Ōtori - Hey! Hey, I recognize that!

Ōtori - We can factor everything back in at the end- I’m not saying the points we made weren’t strong, I just think we should take a step back again!

Maki - …By making a new list that you immediately qualify for?

Ōtori - Yes! I was expecting this, it’s fine! I’m okay with being seen as suspicious!

Ōtori - Now who else is going on that list?

//It is silent.

Maeda - …No one wants to start pointing fingers.

Maeda - Who do I think might have killed Higa…

//…Maeda won’t even admit his theories to himself.

Maki - …

Maki - Somebody’s going to say me. I get that, it’s fine.

Tomori - Maki…

Maki - Tomori.

Maki - Have I ever done anything to demonstrate how strong I am?

Maki - I don’t think I have. But everyone’s in agreement about what I could do, without needing any proof to back it up. I won’t try and fight everyone on that.

Hatano - …Because you know we’re right?

Maki - …

Maki - Hatano.

Hatano - We’re supposed to talk about theories, right?!

Hatano - You were one of the people that bickered with Higa a lot- and now, with everything happening with Ōtori, you’ve totally been on him!

Hatano - And I’m not saying I’m against it, but… have you thought about killing him?

Maki - …

//Shock quickly gives way to anger- but Maeda recognizes the flush of Maki’s face, and knows exactly where that rage is coming from. Hatano’s line hurt.

Maeda, wide-eyed - …

//He doesn’t know what to say. No one seems to.

Taira - …Unrelated to Ōtori, but if you are physically capable, it’s good to be transparent about that. Lying and pretending that you couldn’t have killed Higa will only make you more suspicious.

Ōtori - …

//His eyes narrow.

Maeda - …Ōtori totally thinks it could have been Taira.

Maeda - I don’t know who I suspect…

Hatano - …Well, we’re still really only debating about Taira and Tomori.

Hatano - Or, if we say it was suffocation, it could have been Kobashikawa, Maeda, or Uehara too…

Hatano - …Also, does everyone else actually agree that Tsurugi couldn’t be the blackened? Because I don’t think his defense is too strong.

Maki - Okay, well, you just went from two suspects, to six, so let’s maybe make up our minds on how we’re approaching this?

Maeda - …

Maeda - I’m sorry, I’m so lost. How are we trying to see things right now?

Maki - …

Maki - Everyone, defend yourself. Explain why it couldn’t have been you.

Maki - Okay?

//…No one objects.

Maki - …Then I’ll go first.

Maki - I would be capable of the murder, but Ōtori’s confirmed that I was asleep. And because I was asleep, I wouldn’t have woken up after Kobashikawa got back, and been able to pull off the murder while Maeda was still awake to hear it.

Maki - …

Maeda - No flaws there…

Maki - …Who wants to go next?

//Tomori and Kobashikawa are the next students on Maki’s right and left, respectively.

Maeda - Kobashikawa… generally does poorly with this sort of thing- but I think Tomori’s still trying to bounce back too.

Tomori - …

Kobashikawa - …

Kobashikawa - My only defense is that I wouldn’t have been strong enough to kill Higa.

Kobashikawa - …Ah- but, I couldn’t be the person who had the conversation with Higa, either! So, if we agree that person was the blackened… then it’s proof I’m not the blackened.

Maeda - …Oh. Because Kobashikawa couldn’t have been the voice I heard.

//On the other side of Iranami’s portrait is Hatano.

Hatano - I fell asleep early on. We know that I didn’t wake up until I left- for the dining hall this morning.

Maeda - …She choked on one of her words… poor Hatano.

//Ōtori next.

Ōtori - I was asleep when the murder happened. Tsurugi saw it when he was going back to bed… that’s my only argument, though.

Maeda - Well… if sleep is sufficient for Maki, it should be a fine reason to take Ōtori off the list too.

Maeda - …

Maeda - Though, there’s also the argument about Ōtori’s kill-style- but I don’t need to point that out.

//Taira stands on his other side.

Taira - …I don’t have any defense.

Taira - I was nearby, capable of it, and no one saw me asleep.

//She shrugs slightly.

Maeda - …I guess it’s my turn. There hasn’t been anyone between Taira and I since the first trial ended.

Maeda - I… my only defense is that I couldn’t have strangled Higa.

Maeda - But… maybe my testimony helps? I don’t have a reason to bring up what I heard, unless I was actually trying to help.

Maeda - …Fuck, did I make myself too suspicious? What if I come across as trying to play-support…

Maeda - The problem is, if it wasn’t strangulation… I’m screwed. I had to offer something!

//A soft whine pulls Maeda from his thoughts.

Tsurugi - MmmMM~mMmm…

Maeda - …He’s crying again.

//It’s clear Tsurugi’s trying to keep himself together- he’s curled his chin towards his torso, and has his hands clasped and raised in front of his face. The sound is the byproduct of him trying to keep from openly crying…

Maeda - …

Maeda - And it wasn’t Tsurugi, either.

//But Maeda knows by now that Tsurugi won’t succeed.

Maeda - I don’t think he’s able to argue for himself right now… I’ll step in for him.

Maeda - Tsurugi isn’t the blackened, because he isn’t the sort to even lay a hand on anyone. We know from how he’s interacted with Higa in the past that he wouldn’t try to use violence to sway him.

//Tsurugi takes a shaky breath, getting Maeda’s attention back to him.

Maeda - ?

//Tsurugi doesn’t say anything- doesn’t even look up from the floor. He just continues to stand there, shaking.

Maeda - …

Maeda - I don’t have anything else to defend him… but I don’t think anyone suspects him.

//In a better world, maybe Maeda would have asked to step off his podium, and go see Tsurugi. Here, he doesn’t do that. The trial continues.

Tomori - …I’m like Taira. There’s nothing saying I’m not the blackened.

Tomori - …

Tomori - So, I really don’t know what to say. Obviously, I know what I did last night… but everyone should make their decision based off logic.

Tomori - I won’t try to sway you all… hopefully someone’s able to come up with something that proves who the blackened truly is.

Maeda - …Poor Tomori. I mean, it really doesn’t feel like it’s her- and even if it is, I feel bad for… the person she’s acting like she is, at least.

//They’ve gone around the whole circle-

Maeda - WAIT.

Maeda - Uehara, you didn’t defend yourself.

Uehara - …Oh. Yeah, uh…

Uehara - I mean, I don’t really have a defense.

Uehara - …

//He shrugs.

Uehara - It could’ve been me. That’s true.

Maeda - …

Maeda - …Well. No frills is definitely an approach.

Kobashikawa - Wasn’t the argument that you lacked the coordination?

Kobashikawa - That’d be true even if it was a suffocation… right?

//Again, Uehara just shrugs.

Uehara - I don’t have half a clue, to be real.

Hatano - …So Uehara’s on the list, then?

Kobashikawa - I don’t know that he should be…

Ōtori - …

Ōtori - You’re off, I’m off, Maki’s off, Tsurugi’s off.

Ōtori - Tomori, Taira, and Uehara don’t have any way of defending themselves.

Ōtori - …What do we think about Maeda, and his testimony?

Maeda - Fuck.

Tomori - …

Taira - …

Maeda - God. Of course, neither of them would defend me…

//Tsurugi’s stopped crying- but he’s still sniffling.

Maeda - Tsurugi won’t step in right now… fuckkk.

Maeda - It’s so over I’m so screwed. Oh my god.

Kobashikawa - …I think Maeda was telling the truth about being asleep.

Maeda - KOBASHIKAWA!

Kobashikawa - We were playing chopsticks before I left for the dining hall… I remember that he was laying down when we got back, I checked for him specifically.

Maeda - THAT’S RIGHT!

Ōtori - Okay.

Ōtori - Taira, Tomori, and Uehara.

Hatano - …We’re going based off who seems the most likely, right?

Maki - …

Maki - If we can’t think of anything else… but we don’t have any reason to rush things right now.

Hatano - …Okay.

Hatano - I do want to remind everyone, though, that one of those people has a known violence streak against people he disagrees with.

Ōtori - Hatano. I didn’t mention you when I was listing people we weren’t suspecting.

Ōtori - I’m starting to wonder if we really should take you off the list.

Ōtori - It’s possible you woke up, and just didn’t notice that Iranami was gone! Since you slept early, you don’t have the excuse of just starting your REM cycle!

Maeda - Ah- is that the reason why we know it wasn’t Ōtori or Maki? I get it was because they were asleep- I didn’t know it was sleep cycles specifically.

Ōtori - Maybe Higa said something to Iranami that upset her- maybe we’ve got the order of the conversation the other way around, and someone accused him!

Ōtori - Let’s all agree to try and be careful with out words, okay?

Hatano - …

//Immediately, tears well up in Hatano’s eyes.

Hatano - …

Maeda - …Jesus Christ.

//Maeda doesn’t want to think about that interaction. He’s so ready to move on from it, even though it just ended-

Maeda - Probably a murderer, versus keeps accusing everyone of murder… Hatano’s definitely got it worse, but it’s good someone spoke out on everyone’s behalf- but Ōtori…

Maeda - …

Maeda - I wonder what I’d think right now if Hatano had suspected me.

Taira - So, Tomori and I are still the viable suspects we have.

Maki - …And Uehara, if we say that the death was suffocation.

Maeda - So Hatano’s not a suspect.

Maeda - …

Maeda - Uehara… Uehara has gotten physical with Higa.

Maeda - Hell… they fought the day Higa died…

Maeda - I… shit, I’m the only one who knows about that. Well- me, Uehara, and Tsurugi…

Maeda - …

//A chill runs down his spine.

Maeda - Earlier, I thought Tsurugi was crying because he thought it was Tomori… is it possible he started to cry because he realized it was Uehara?

//Maeda can’t help but stare at Tsurugi now. He’s stilled, and isn’t making any sound… but he’s still physically hidden away.

Taira - …

Taira - If we’re starting to make this argument, I will say- my vote is on Uehara before it’s on Tomori.

Maeda - Eh?

Taira - Of course, that means slim little coming from a suspect… but most of the suspects are innocent. That’s just how it works.

Taira - But, if you look at it… isn’t it like Hatano said?

Taira - Neither Tomori or myself are the sort to use violence because we got provoked.

“~And in comes the enforcer- Wh- get off me!~”

Maeda - …Shit.

Maeda - I…

Maeda - I think… I could pretty solidly prove Uehara’s willingness to… to hurt Higa…

Maeda - But… whenever Uehara did things like that, his goal wasn’t murder… do we think he’d go that far?

Maeda - We’re talking like he isn’t here- Uehara, say something!

Uehara - …

//…He fidgets with one of his earrings.

Maeda - God…

Taira - Someone did.

Maki - …

//The class is just… silent.

Maeda - Have… we really solved it? Will Uehara not defend himself?

Tomori - …

Maeda - Tomori doesn’t look happy about this… out of all the suspects, she’s the one who’s reacting the most.

Maeda - …

Maeda - One of us killed Higa last night.

Maeda - Someone… someone got tired enough of what he was doing… someone got pushed hard enough… they just couldn’t take it.

Maeda - We’ve crossed off most of the class… and out of the people that’s left…

Maeda - …I don’t think there’s anything else to work with- and after looking at everything, there’s only one answer.

//Maeda falls silent, waiting for someone else to say it.

Tsurugi - …

Maeda - …It has to be Uehara.

Tsurugi - No, that’s wrong!

Maeda - !

//A shock runs through Maeda.

Maeda - …Huh?

Maeda - I- I didn’t say anyth- I didn’t say it was Uehara! What is Tsurugi disagreeing with me on.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - You were too eager when you were cutting down the suspect pool. There’s someone that got taken off who shouldn’t have been.

Maeda - …Wait- does that mean you know who the blackened is?

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi, lightly - I think so.

Maeda - …

//He’s still reeling.

Maeda - …And? Who do you think it is?

Tsurugi - …

Hatano - …Tsurugi, don’t you dare keep it from us.

Tsurugi - I won’t.

Tsurugi - I’m checking my work. I- I don’t want to be wrong.

Maeda - …

//Finally, Tsurugi’s brought his hands down- lowering them earlier, when he finally spoke up. The tears have clumped his eyelashes together, but he looks significantly more stable than he has.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - Okay. Wake up.

Tsurugi - I don’t- say that as a joke, or to try and throw everyone. But I need everyone to be alert, and to listen.

Tsurugi - Okay? Ready?

//…No one dissents.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - I want to start this off by saying that I’m sorry.

Tsurugi - I failed you all. My attempts at making the trials easier to solve just made things worse. I didn’t encourage you all to learn, I made things feel stressful and hopeless.

Tsurugi - I…

Tsurugi - …I want you all to know that I am proud of what’s been accomplished. I wanted to see you all do well for my own comfort, so I’d know you would be safe without me.

Tsurugi - It was never about you all proving yourselves, or anything like that. It’s astounding that you all were able to stand back up and try again when you needed to.

Tsurugi - …Let me point out my perspective of the case.

Maeda - …

Tsurugi - Last night, Higa had a conversation with someone. He was able to look at them, and suspect murder.

Tsurugi - He got them upset, and lost in the fight that ensued. The blackened is someone who was able to win against Higa in a fight, and someone who could be upset by him.

Maeda - …

//The cold floods back in. Maedas too fixated on Tsurugi’s words to notice it.

Tsurugi - The blackened hasn’t done anything to expose themselves. They’ve been able to go about the night, the investigation, and the trial, without cuing anyone into what they did.

Tsurugi - In fact, everyone was able to come to the conclusion that the blackened couldn’t be the blackened, because of how they construed what happened last night.

Tsurugi - …The “evidence” used to defend them is exactly what enabled the blackened to convince everyone it wasn’t them-

Tsurugi - It was misread, misunderstood. Everyone’s agreed on the crucial fact, but didn’t get what it truly meant. The blackened isn’t Taira, or Tomori, or Uehara.

Tsurugi - Taira doesn’t fight people, Tomori doesn’t fight people, and Uehara was not capable of strangling or suffocating Higa.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - Besides- everytime Uehara got after Higa, it wasn’t for his own defense.

//He seems to flinch at himself- but quickly becomes even more composed, to compensate. He stands straight, but relaxed, head held high, gaze soft, rather than defiant. When Tsurugi speaks, it’s with full confidence, as certain as could be.

Tsurugi - Of the people who could have killed Higa last night, only one person lacked the stability to stop themselves when they snapped, and wouldn’t have been able to accept what happened.

Tsurugi - …

Tsurugi - I’m sorry.

Tsurugi - I strangled Higa last night. I’m the blackened of this case.

~*~

Maeda, narrating -

Maeda -

Maeda - …

Maeda - Huh.

[Advance]

#dra #yuki maeda #kiyoka maki #kizuna tomori #ayame hatano #kinji uehara #haruhiko kobashikawa #akane taira #teruya ōtori #tsurugi kinjo #word count: 5038

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