#and she does love to know things she shouldn't!!!

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty four

authors note: this one gets pretty heavy. the next two chapters will also be heavy at points. please heed to cw/tw's.

cw/tw: fluff, angst, brief discussion of childhood sexual assault and child abuse, scene of violence against women

*this author does not condone nor support intimate partner/domestic violence.*

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 12k

“Roman…” His name leaving her mouth is the perfect combination of breathy and whiny. “We–re gonna be late.”

For the first time in what feels like an hour, Roman lifts his head from her neck. She hates how noticeable the absence of his mouth is. “You really think I care about that?”

No. She knows he doesn’t care. But, she also dislikes being the reason for them being late. Because she's certain he has plans afterwards, and it doesn’t sit well with her knowing that she could play any type of role in any inconvenience he may encounter.

Her eyes shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, sucking the spot that he’s clearly realized she has the most visceral response to. Toes curling, clawing at his shoulders and arms, it’s hard to tell who’s enjoying this more. Him or her.

Still, she manages to protest. “But, I—I care.”

Big hands traveling her body, she sighs quietly when he cups the swell of her breast giving her a gentle squeeze that has her thighs unintentionally gripping his waist. “You should have thought about that before you put this damn outfit on….”

Said outfit isn’t anything crazy, nothing fancy, just a cropped, sleeveless hoodie and dark yoga pants. However, it's the stretchy material that clings to clearly every part of her that he seemingly finds irresistible. Namely her ass and chest. Still, it's the typical type of outfit she would wear to train, which is exactly where they should be headed to right now. Though it seems her husband has another much more carnal destination in mind.

Blush growing, she tries again. “Roman, I—I’m serious.” His tongue circling across her inflamed skin as she groans against him. “You’re gonna l–leave another mark.”

“Good.” His response doesn’t entirely surprise her. Neither does the explanation. “You’re mine, and everyone needs to fucking know that shit.”

Mine

There’s something about that, something about his delivery, so strong and borderline aggressive that makes her insides melt a tad. Makes her smile grow. A good bit, she’s certain, stemming from the fact that it still blows her mind sometimes that a man like Roman Reigns could want her. Does want her. Even with all her….baggage.

He wants her.

Loves her.

For some reason, this makes it a bit easier to slide into that space of comfort and indifference he has regarding time and obligation. Makes her arch her chest into him as he stays true and firm to his determination in leaving her with his mark. 

Though she’s not sure just what about this current situation makes her decide to bring this up now, it’s something she knows she really shouldn't push off anymore.

“R–Ro?”

He makes a sound against her. “Yes?”

“I—I need a favor.”

He sighs against her, lifting his head from her neck to match her nervous gaze. “Solana, doing things for you is never a favor.” He brings his hand to her chin, thumb caressing her skin. “It’s my job as your husband.”

His response, thus far, chips away some of the anxiety. Some. “But, this—this is kinda big.”

Eyes narrowing slightly, he asks, “how big?”

It feels kind of silly, Solana briefly dropping her gaze to his black shirt that’s stretched against his broad chest. “I—I need money.”

Roman just looks at her for a second, a huge smile breaking out on his face. “You need money?” 

She nods. Slowly. “It’s—it’s a lot of money though.”

“I think we have different definitions of what a lot is, but go on.”

He’s probably not wrong, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the proposed amount of money probably needed is substantial compared to the average loan. Solana sits up fully, forcing Roman to also stand upright. He tugs her to the edge, her hands on his chest. “It’s…..it’s for Dr. Stratus.”

At that, she’s clearly lost him. “You need money for your psychiatrist?”

“Not—not like that.” Solana closes her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tries to gather her thoughts. “The girls were telling me they overheard that Dr. Stratus couldn’t secure an investor to keep the facility going and may have to shut down.”

He remains confused. “Okay…..”

“Roman, I don’t want that to happen.” She closes her eyes, thinking back to some of the information Gail has provided her as well as readings from her book. “Did you—did you know that 1 out of every 6 American women has either been raped or survived of an attempted rape?” Closing her eyes, she murmurs, “I was one of the ones.” Taking another breath, she notices his expression is darker. “But there are a lot more ones out there, Roman, and they need help just like I did. Dr. Stratus has a really great thing going, and I don’t—I don’t want to see it go away. I want—”

“Okay.”

She frowns. “Okay?”

“I’ll do it.”

Her stomach flutters. “Really?” She’s not sure what she was expecting, but for some reason, him so easily agreeing seems almost too good to be true.

Roman shrugs, pushing back some of her hair. “It’s important to you, and it clearly is, so I’ll do it.” That’s it. Nothing else. Just acquiescence.

“But, you don’t even know how much—”

“Doesn’t matter. You want it. I’ll make it happen.”

It’s overwhelming, really. Solana didn’t really think he would be upset with her request. She figured he’d want or need to think about it, which makes sense given it’s probably going to be in the six, maybe even seven figure range. But, that’s not the case. Instead, he’s just agreed without a second thought simply because she wants it.

Because it’s important to her.

Eyes watering, she throws her arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you.” It’s such a simple thing to say for such a big task. But, she also means it from the deepest part of her. For a man who doesn’t seem to think he’s a good person, she thinks the world of him. 

The same way she’s certain their child will. 

“While we’re on it, there’s something I need to talk to you about, too.”

And just like that, her smile is wiped, Solana pulling back and looking up. "Oh—okay.”

Something tells her she’s not going to like what she’s about to hear.

Roman’s intense eyes are focused on her, his index finger tracing along her jaw. “I have to go out of town next week.”

Yeah……definitely not something she wanted or expected to hear.

“Oh.” It’s all she knows how to say initially. Finally, more words arrive. A necessary question asked. “Where are you going?”

He hesitates. “Italy.”

Her eyes widen. That definitely isn’t what she expected him to say. Domestic travel was the guess, international never even being something that crossed her mind. “Italy?”

He nods, explaining on the edge of a heavy sigh. “I have some…..business to take care of with the Cosa Nostra.”

Solana is quiet, sitting on his words, partially hoping he’ll say more. Granted, it’s not a necessity as she’s able to piece the puzzle together herself. “That’s why your cousins were here that night…..isn’t it?” His silence is all the answer she needs. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“No.” Though his answer is immediate, there’s something about it that was too instantaneous. Like he blurted it out without even thinking about it. “Just…..something I need to handle.”

It’s a bit manipulative. She knows this, but it’s hard for her to have something like this sprung on her and not ask any follow up questions. “Can….can I come with you?”

Again, his response is something she already guessed before even fixing her mouth to ask. Another heavy sigh as he gently cups her cheek. “Not this time.”

“Because it’s dangerous.” And there’s the manipulation component. Solana has realized that will always be the dealbreaker for Roman when it comes to her. Safety. So, him saying no makes her concerned not for her wellbeing. 

But for his.

Anxiety growing, she asks, “are the twins going with you? You can’t go alone.”

“I won’t be alone.” That helps her feel a little better. Just a little. “But, they’re not coming. I need them here. Handling shit.” It’s hard for Solana to wonder if any part of what went down between Roman and Jey has impacted this decision for them to remain here while he travels abroad. 

Still, that’s another thought for another day. She has a much bigger issue at hand.

“So who—”

“Solana.” Roman’s voice silences the next set of anxiety riddled questions scheduled to leave her mouth. He lowers his volume, his tone softer than anything anyone outside of her would ever hear. “I’ll be fine.”

For some reason, that only cranks her anxiety up from a 6 to a solid 8. And it’s without much thought, she finds herself asking, “do you have to go?”

He truly looks apologetic. A visible thing that also matches the verbal. “I’ve been pushing it off. I can’t push it off anymore.”

She swallows, emotion thick and bubbling. “Because of me?”

“Because of a lot of things, Sol.” And to her surprise, there’s some semblance of emotion present in his voice as well. “The—the story with that side of my family is…..complicated.” As it seems are most things when it comes to his family. Either side, apparently. “Trust me, going there is the last thing I want, but it needs to be done.”

Solana hates this. For a lot of reasons. The biggest one, however, is because she just knows there’s something he’s not telling her. A key part he’s omitting, probably for fear of worrying her. Never mind the fact that she’s already an anxious mess thinking about him being so far away without at least the twins there to have his back. She’d bet this Dwayne and Matteo person will be present, but she doesn’t know them. Doesn’t trust them. Doesn’t trust them to have her husband’s back. 

Not like Jimmy and Jey.

Even with the altercation between Roman and the latter, she still believes in her heart of hearts they’d look out for each other.

Like brothers.

“How long will you be gone?” Because trying to convince him to stay or even allow her to accompany him is the equivalent of beating a dead horse. 

More hesitation. “A week. Maybe two.”

The duration truly could be worse, and it makes sense such a long trip wouldn’t warrant a short turnover, but that doesn’t make the idea of him being gone for that period of time any easier to stomach. 

When she says nothing, he brings his other hand to her hair, pushing a section behind her ear. “Nia will stay with you until I return.”

And the surprises just keep coming. “Nia?” She knows the list of people Roman would ask to do such a thing is pretty limited, nonexistent maybe, but Nia is the last of the last she’d have considered. “She—why would she agree to that?”

Nia’s behavior around and toward Solana has shifted moderately since their first meeting so many months ago. She’s still not the nicest, per se, but Solana has learned a large part of that is nothing personal. It’s just Nia. So, while she’s not against it, she does, however, not understand it. 

“I told you before, people do what I want them to do because no one wants to deal with the alternative. Nia is no different.” Forced. He’s forced her to do this. That’s all Solana took from that, the frown on her face deepening it. “She’ll really just be here to administer your meds and make sure you get to therapy.” 

And she figured as such, figured that would be the basis as to why he would ensure another person is present in his absence. Still, Solana can’t stop herself from trying to broach an option she’s almost certain he won’t want to hear.

“Ro, I don’t—I can take care of that mys—”

“No.” It’s so firm and final. Even his gaze has shifted into something almost hardened. “That’s not an option.”

She figured it wasn’t. She also wonders, however, if it ever will. It has to, at some point. Solana wants to also ask why it can’t be Bayley again, or even Naomi, but it’s most likely to earn her the same type of shutdown. 

If not worse.

Roman steps back, guiding her off the bathroom counter. Standing back on her own two feet, Solana is taken back for a second by the almost instant lightheaded feeling that comes over her. Or less lightheaded and more…..exhaustion.

“You alright?”

She looks up, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. I’m—I’m good.” That’s debatable, because Solana is all of a sudden feeling exhausted from literally doing nothing but making out with her husband. 

Roman, as expected, looks unconvinced. “You sure?” He goes into his spiel that she’s heard at least three times now. “You know you don’t have to jump right back into things. I still think you should take more time off—”

“No.” Her hand shifts to her stomach, Solana grateful this doesn’t seem to trigger something for him. “I—I want to fall back into my routines.” Even more, and most important, if she truly is pregnant, Solana doesn’t want to waste any time left she has to do so before being too far along to train.

But, he can’t have that explanation. Not yet.

And now she has to figure out just when said explanation can occur, because how does she tell her husband they’re expecting days before he’s set to go out of town for possibly two weeks?

Damn.

————

“You’re late.” It’s the first thing to come out of a smirking Bayley’s mouth as Solana walks in with Roman into the training area. ‘But, the outfit is cute.”

Solana smiles at that, a bit of a laugh leaving her considering Roman nearly had a heart attack at her outfit when she stepped out the bathroom. Hence why they’re late. Among…..other reasons. 

“I’m sorry. We got caught up with something.”

“Mmmhmm,” Naomi sounds with that knowing look. “I’m sure you did.”

Solana looks away, wanting and needing to hide her blush as Roman asks in an annoyed voice, “where is he?”

“Here.” The four of them redirect their attention to the sound of Jimmy and the other two men he’s with: Jey and Carmelo.

Naturally, Solana goes to observe the indirect interaction between Jey and Roman, searching for any sigh of contempt. It’s definitely there. She can see it in the way Roman’s shoulders tense and how Jey looks away, Solana noticing the faded bruises on his face as well as the bandage over a still healing cut.

Swallowing, Solana moves over to them. “Hey.” 

Jimmy pulls her into a side hug without needing initiation, but it’s not missed upon her how Jey seems to hesitate to hug her, the tension in his body as well as the way he almost awkward way he clears his throat and looks away. 

She tries not to make too much of it, but it’s hard not to.

Carmelo steps forward, giving a nod. “Ma’am.”

That makes her smile return. “I told you before, you can just call me Solana.”

“Ma’am is fine,” Roman’s deep voice cuts through, Solana not needing to turn around, hearing his heavy footsteps behind her. “You’re late.”

Carmelo swallows. “I’m sorry—”

“I don’t care,” Roman is instantly dismissive, focusing his attention on his wife as he goes into an unnecessary introduction. “Solana, this is—”

“I know,” she cuts him off with a gentle smile, explaining, “I met him at the party.”

At that, Romans’ thick eyebrows cave inward. “What?”

“He was there, Big Dog.”

‘“I–I was there, sir.”

Roman scowls, completely ignoring his cousin and the other irrelevant man. “He was?” He looks over at his wife, asking, “you invited him too?”

Solana nods. “I asked the twins to invite whoever it was you found to help me train, because I wanted to meet him beforehand,” she explains, turning to Carmelo again, “thank you again for—agreeing to help me.”

Carmelo opens his mouth, unsure just how to express that he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. Or one at all. 

“He was there the whole time,” Naomi shares from where she stretches on one of the mats, Jimmy focused on her ass as she bends over. 

“You were too busy trying not to kill and cuss everybody out,” Bayley walks over, earning a hardened look from Roman that she pays no mind to. “Alright, so Solana is obviously a small human being, but she’s fast and hell and can maneuver quickly. That makes her hard to catch. Those are her strengths. She’s also pretty damn good with a knife.” Solana is a bit unsure how to feel about that part. “But, she’s only ever trained with women, hence why you’re here, Melo.”

“She also wants to learn how to do the spear.”

Roman’s statement earns a round of surprised expressions from everyone except Carmelo.

He looks terrified. “The—the spear?” He gestures with a crooked, slightly trembling index finger. “From—from you?”

“Who the fuck else?” Is Roman’s objectively rude reply, Solana having to stop herself from placing her hand on his forearm. He could try to be a little nicer. 

“You supposed to get a spear from him?” A new voice sounds, Solana not recognizing the man with a deep complexion, multiple piercings and an….interesting hairstyle. He shakes his head. “You gon die!”

Solana’s mouth drops as Bayley and Naomi laugh aloud. Jimmy is the one to ask, “R Truth, where did you even come from?”

He scowls, pointing downward. “Boss man said meet him here.”

“I said at the office, Truth. Not the Warehouse.” Jey finally speaks, Solana realizing it’s the first time he’s done so. He sounds annoyed, and she’s not sure if it’s just because of the scene unfolding before them. Or something that he’s clearly still not over.

“Yo? Forreal?” Jey runs his hand over his face. “That’s—that’s my bad.” He looks to Roman, nodding. “Tribal Chief.” He looks at Solana, again nodding, “Mrs. Tribal Chief.” He then gestures to the rest of the group. “Ya’ll be safe now.” Pointing to Carmelo, he adds, “‘cept’ for you, you already dead.”

Solana has so many questions, even as this strange man walks away, Jey muttering something incoherent before he seems to follow after this R-Truth person. 

Once those two men are gone, Carmelo nervously clears his throat. “Tribal Chief, if I can, who better to train her than y—”

“Shut up,” Roman says it so lazily. It’s as he crosses his massive arms over each other that Solana has to briefly look away, finding herself growing….distracted. He’s so damn muscular. “She’s comfortable with me. That won’t help her learn.”

Roman easily transitions into providing basic information about the spear, best ways to time it, stances, ways to land it and whatnot. She’s following, as best she can, at least. Because this exhaustion she’s experiencing is making it ten times harder to be present in the moment, and that’s made evident by the gap in her focus when one moment Roman is explaining, and the next he’s rushing towards Carmelo.

Solana gasps as Roman spears the other man with a ferocity and intensity that seems almost animal-like.

Eyes wide, hands over her mouth, Solana has to wince at a pain she didn’t even experience. But, one didn’t have to be on the receiving end of that to know it had to hurt like hell. 

Roman stands up so unbothered and nonchalant, readjusting his almost always perfect bun.

“Gotta give him his props. No one does a spear quite like Roman,” Bayley chuckles, arms crossed as Solana continues to stare in shock.

Jimmy casually walks by and peers over an unmoved Carmelo. “Ayo, Uce, I think he dead.” The faintest sound of pained whining fills the air, prompting Jimmy to correct himself. “Never mind. He alive.”

“Barely,” Naomi mumbles.

“He shouldn’t be so weak,” is Roman’s pompous defense as he redirects his attention to a still startled Solana. “Make sense?”

There’s a brief delay in between the time she nods slowly and speaks. “But, I—I don’t think I can do that.”

A small smile falls on Roman’s face as he explains, “it’s not going to be the exact same, Solana. I’m significantly bigger than you. Plus, spearing a man is different than spearing a woman.”

“What if I need to spear a man?”

His expression hardens as he affirms, “he’d have to get through me first to fucking touch you.”

Solana doesn’t say anything after that. Just waits for Carmelo to recover as they transition to the one-on-one portion. Solana is rolling her shoulders, trying to get in as much stretching as she can to hopefully loosen up her body more and shed away the almost fatigue she’s feeling.

It’s unfamiliar and inconvenient as hell considering what she’s about to do.

She’s in earshot range too when Roman grabs Melo’s arm and warns in the chilliest tone, “leave one fucking mark on her, and I’ll break every bone in your goddamn body.”

A heavy sigh leaves her body. She understands Roman’s protectiveness, but truthfully, Carmelo is doing them a favor. He doesn’t have to be here. 

Then again….maybe he does.

She doesn’t put it beyond her husband to threaten people on her behalf. 

Not in the slightest.

And on one hand, she’s partially grateful for the obvious care and mindfulness Carmelo is utilizing as he trains with her, it’s definitely helpful from her trauma standpoint. Helps for them to not be as physical as she typically is with Bayley and Naomi. 

However, it's painfully obvious that Carmelo is doing his damn hardest to minimize any and all physical contact between the two of them. A part of her appreciates it, but a larger part of her finds it a bit annoying. It’s sparring. Not interpretive dancing. 

Solana manages to swipe Carmelo off his feet, growing a bit frustrated when he intentionally takes longer to get up. “This doesn't help me,” she sighs, hands on her hips as she takes a second to steal a much needed breath. “Roman, can you please tell him—”

She’s cut off by being swiped by her ankles, tumbling forward to the floor. Carmelo is suddenly over her, flipping her onto her back, Solana not hesitating to move her knee between his stupidly open legs. He groans from the impact, and she takes that opportunity to bar her forearm across his neck, switching them so that he’s on his back with her hovering over him.

However, anything more is cut short by that small interaction alone knocking the wind out of her.

Climbing off him, she moves onto her hands and knees, eyes shut and head dropped. Neither from feeling triggered or even being in pain, just exhaustion.

She’s so damn drained. 

In what feels like seconds, Roman is at her side, hand on her back. “Solana, what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, answering quickly, “I’m just—tired.” More than what’s normal for her. Training is usually draining, but considering they haven’t even been at it that long, she’s confused as to why she’s getting so winded. Lifting her head, she offers a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“No.” Roman dismisses it with the quickness, directing to the others. “We’re done for the day.”

“Roman, I’m fine. I’m just—probably out of shape.” Maybe, but this feels beyond that. She’s just so fatigued. He helps her to her feet, Solana trying to bargain, “at least let me finish with Bayley?”

He’s not hearing it. “No. You clearly need to ease back into things.” She frowns. I thought I was. “Head to the showers.”

“Roman—”

“He’s right, Solana,” Naomi suddenly sounds, walking over with Bayley. “You’re clearly tired and just need to ease back into and relearn some things. That’s okay. We can do this another day. When you’re at 100.”

“Or maybe she can just continue to train with ya’ll—”

And in perfect synchronized dismissiveness, Roman, Bayley, and Naomi all shut Carmelo down with a simple, “shut up.”

It cracks a smile on Solana’s face. The fact that the majority of them are in agreement is enough to make her realize that they’re probably right in that she should try another day. Maybe even easing back into it. Not necessarily the part about relearning. She remembers everything. Recall is not the problem. This fatigue is, but a part of her is starting to think she knows what it might be.

Just why she’s so fatigued.

And in true Jimmy fashion, he blurts out with the ill timed question, “aye, Soso, what’s for dinner today?”

————

“So why exactly are you fighting again?”

It’s not the first time she’s asked this question. No, it’s been posed at least three different times prior to this occurrence. Just different wording. A different question that’s garnered the same kind of answer every single time. 

A part of her recognizes this, but a part of her also doesn’t care.

Solana has always been under the impression, and has essentially been told by several people, Roman included, that he doesn’t really fight in the ring anymore. That he doesn’t need to. That he doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and those words came from him directly.

So, she was and still is, confused when he told her of a match he was competing in. The theme of the fight night being Bad Blood not helping much. At all.

Still, there was no way in hell she would miss attending. Even if her presence wasn’t something that’s technically mandatory. She wants to support him. She’s just nervous about the notion of him being in the ring again, recalling the last time she witnessed such a thing. It was brutal and bloody, and while he came out with the win, relatively unscathed, it still makes her nervous. Because there’s always a chance something can go wrong.

Because she always worries about him, and she’s pretty sure she always will. So long as he is who he is.

Roman, however, couldn’t give two shits about this fight with Drew. Tonight is more of a political move than anything, Roman needing a very public and brutal display of his prowess to remind everyone why he sits at the Head of the Table. It’s truly just an added bonus that he gets to kick the shit out of Drew in the process.

Or worse.

Roman is more focused, borderline distracted, by Solana. The sexy red dress she has on leaves little to the imagination with the low neckline, tight fit, and short length that stops about mid-thigh, rolling even higher as she’s propped on the bathroom counter. Her hair is pinned up, and her makeup is on the lighter, almost undetectable, side. His preference. She’s stunning with and without it, but there’s something he enjoys most seeing her in her natural state.

She just looks good as hell, and if not for the importance of this evening, he’d say fuck this damn match and Drew and spend the rest of the evening with her. A much more desirable and preferable option, truly. But, duty and obligation before anything. 

Even his fine ass wife.

Roman waits until he’s slid the black hoodie over his head, smirking a bit at the slight disappointment that appears on Solana’s face at him no longer being shirtless. He decides to slide through that crevice of brief deflection.

“You know the same way you look at me is the same way I look at and think about you.” He’s walking toward her, big hands carefully spreading her thighs so he can step in between her legs. This close, he’s granted a perfect view of her equally perfect breast. “All the damn time.”

He’s unsurprised when her cheeks redden nor when she says anything. “A challenge was issued, and I need to send a message.” That’s a much simpler way of explaining the full scope of just what tonight is, but he also doesn’t want to bombard her with information she doesn’t necessarily need to know.

She licks her lips, and he hates how sexual such an innocent act looks, especially when he knows that’s not her intent. “What—what kind of message?”

A potentially brutal, bloody message, but painting that picture for her beforehand might create some unnecessary anxiety. “A message that won’t need to be repeated.”

That seems to register for her as she asks, “Are—are you nervous?”

That actually makes Roman laugh. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt that emotion. It’s been years. Many decades. Moving his hands to her waist, he tugs her closer to him. “I don’t get nervous, Solana.”

“Ever?”

“Naw.”

She’s still looking at him with that same level of trepidation, maybe even a bit more heightened actually. “But….but you’re still careful, right?” It seems like an otherwise silly question with an obvious answer, but Roman can see where she’s coming from. The fear that fuels it. “Like….like you pay attention and stuff?”

“Of course,” his answer is gentle and patient. Two things reserved strictly and solely for her. “Solana, I’ve been fighting my whole life. I know what I’m doing.”

Her eyes widen, and he just knows he’s in for an unnecessary apology. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby.” Yup. Just as he predicted. Bringing his hand to the back of her neck, Roman extends that tenderness, explaining, “I know what you meant. You’re worried, and you shouldn’t be. I’ve got this. Alright?”

She nods a little, and he’s relieved to see some of her apprehension has melted away. With the hand still on her hip, he gives her a light squeeze. “Come on.” Roman stays close as she carefully slides off the counter, her heels giving her a bit of a height boost, but not enough to make a substantial difference. He still towers over her.

And it’s in looking down at her from this angle, and the quick glance of her ass in this dress through the bathroom mirror, he makes a face. “Then again….” Roman slides his hand from the back of her neck, down until he’s palming and squeezing her ass. “Maybe this will be a bit of a distraction.”

“Roman!” She yelps, and he groans at the feel of her. She’s so damn fine and thick in all the right areas that it doesn’t even make sense.

He moves to take her hand, kissing it before guiding her out of the bathroom. “Come on. Before your fine ass makes us late.”

She giggles, holding onto his arm while he hits the light switch. “I didn’t even do anything.”

Roman says nothing, because if only she fucking knew.

If only.

————

Solana was half expecting to be separated from Roman once they reached the warehouse, him needing time to prepare for the fight and whatnot. And while the latter part was true, the first wasn’t. She’s thoroughly surprised when he instead guides her to the back with him to his sizable, impressive locker room.

Roman directs Solana to make herself comfortable, which is almost impossible to do.

It’s hard because she can’t stop thinking about the fact that her husband is going to be in the ring with that man who looked like he would have killed Roman right there on the spot, if he could. The same expression she’s certain he’ll have tonight when it’s just the two of them. 

A part of her is starting to wish she would have sat this one out. Stayed home tonight. Her hand falls to her stomach. That irksome, borderline nauseous feeling has been with her all day. On and off the past week, really. Since trying to return to training earlier in the week. She’s certain a chunk of it has been nerves, but the rest of it, maybe most of it, she’s almost certain, is early onset pregnancy symptoms. 

Just thinking about the fact that a baby, her baby, their baby is growing inside of her belly warms her entire soul. Temporarily distracts her from worrying about Roman. To wondering. Wondering which of his features their child will inherit. Will he or she have his dark, raven, wavy hair? His smoldering brown, almost hazel like eyes? Will the baby take after her brunette locks? Her nose?

In all honesty, she only wants a healthy child. That’s the most important thing, but it’s also hard for her to not lean more on the side of wanting the baby to be a boy. She knows how important producing an heir is. For the Bloodline. For Roman. Especially with how he’s gone above and beyond to keep pressure off them, off her regarding their lack of an heir.

It’s the least she can do for him. He deserves it. 

And she’d love more than anything to give it to him.

Roman stepping back into the vicinity briefly pulls her from her thoughts.

“You alright?”

Naturally, her hand falls from her stomach as she manages a small smile and nod. “Yeah.” She takes in his appearance, noticing his hair is wet and drenched, water droplets rolling down that nearly perfect body she’s grown to love pressed against hers. Not even just for sex. Just in general. Roman’s touch is calming to her. 

Climbing down off the table where she sits, she moves over to him. “Are you?”

He chuckles, hand to her hip. “Always.”

She has to believe that. 

Solana goes to kiss him when the Wise Man walks back in, forcing her to settle for a hand to his cheek. “Be careful.”

He clearly hears the presence of someone else and only nods, his eyes conveying the unspoken ‘I love you.’ She just offers him a warm smile before she retracts her hand and moves to leave the room, only providing her husband’s chief advisor a quiet ‘hello.’

Security escorts her up to the same VIP seating area as the last couple of times she’s attended events like this at the Warehouse. And as usual, Bayley and Naomi are already sitting and waiting for her. 

“Had to give your man that good luck quickie right before, huh?”

Bayley’s comment makes Solana blush and aware of the hickey on her neck she didn't even bother trying to hide. Or the one near her breast. 

“She didn’t deny it either,” Naomi snickers, playfully shoving Solana. 

Instead of acknowledging their innuendos, she utilizes an actual productive use of time. “I was thinking.”

“Listening,” Bayley responds, the two ladies keenly focused on the new topic. 

“Roman has to go out of town next week for……business.” She tries to not think too much about that. It’ll only spike her worry. 

“Who’s going to stay with you?” Naomi asks, gesturing to the two of them. “He didn’t ask us.” 

Solana swallows. That's definitely something she wants to work on with him. The fact that he still blames them for what happened. “Nia.”

“Nia?” 

To be fair, Solana had a bit of the same reaction when Roman first told her his cousin would be staying with her. She’s certain it was…..an interesting discussion, to say the least.

Solana shrugs. “She’s not that bad.” And it’s true. Solana has received much worse from people, in terms of treatment. “And it’s really just….to give me my medicine and stuff.” Because Roman seemed vehemently against and shut it down so fast when she even approached the idea of being able to handle it on her own. Not that….not that she can blame him, per se. “But, I was thinking. What if we went to Isla Mujeres for the weekend? Like that girls trip we were talking about.”

“You talk to Roman about it?”

Solana shakes her head, explaining. “Nia would be with us, so I’m sure he’d be fine.” Because she is. Now, if Nia doesn’t come along, then that’s another story. Though something tells her that once she tells Roman she wants to do this, he’ll find a way to make Nia go along with the plan. 

“I think it could be fun,” Naomi shares, rubbing her hands together. “From the pictures you showed us, the beach looks beautiful.”

“It is,” Solana smiles. “I want to invite Cam, Mickie, and Melina too.”

“So do it,” Bayley encourages. “It’s your girls trip. You decide on the guest list. Melina has always been cool. I didn’t know she…..struggled the way she does, but I’ve always liked her.” Solana is appreciative of Bayley’s handling of Melina’s mental health struggles. “And Cam and Mickie seem cool too.”

“They are,” Solana agrees. They really helped her time spent in the hospital and the treatment facility go a lot easier than it could have been. 

As per usual, conversation flows naturally between the ladies only to minimize once the night begins, all three paying attention to the various matches, mostly the ones that pertain to the Bloodline. 

So, really, Jimmy and Jey’s tag team match against two men that Solana doesn’t recognize, which, of course, the twins come out with the win for. And Roman’s match, the last of the night, because no one comes after the Tribal Chief.

The complete shift in energy when Roman enters the space is truly something to behold. His power and dominance is felt in every square inch of the building. Undeniable excellence and power penetrating almost. She can’t take her eyes off him, his face stoic, determined, focused.

She can see why he doesn’t get nervous. He seems so in his element in this space. Even as Drew comes out with that same level of determination, an almost hatred splayed across his face as he looks over at Roman with ardent vitriol.

Her husband, however, is unbothered.

As he is with most things in life.

Still, the fact that Drew is about what and what with Roman in regards to build and size has her anxiety festering. She knows and has seen for herself how flawless Roman is in the ring. That doesn’t mean she can’t worry though. Can’t wait for this to all just be over with so they can go home.

So she can start figuring out just how she wants to tell him about the pregnancy.

But, that’s a then thing, and this is very much here and now.

The sound of the bell fills the Warehouse as the boisterous crowd continues to erupt, excited to see their Tribal Chief in action.

If only she could relate. 

For the most part, the match starts off as expected, Roman being in the lead, staying one or several steps ahead of Drew, expertly dodging or countering hits. Solana is practically on the edge of her seat, chewing on her bottom lip, watching every single piece of the fight. From Roman’s steps to Drew’s lunges to the way both men who seem too large for life go at it like two titans.

Of course, despite looking like one, Roman is no God. He’s still a man, a man who takes several hits from Drew, one making Solana wince. However, she learned from the night of WarGames, Roman hates being hit. It only pisses him off more than he naturally is at any given point. 

And that’s proven in the increased brutality of Roman’s hits, Drew being the first to have blood spilled as Roman smashes his head in the steel staircase. 

It’s a quick shift though that she somehow misses, because Drew suddenly has Roman in a painful looking headlock. One he seems to take too long to get out of, for her comfort. 

Solana moves to the absolute edge of her seat, panic starting to set in the longer Roman’s airway is restricted. And then she sees the way Drew’s mouth moves, the snarl and subsequent smirk as he says something to Roman. Roman’s briefly stunned eyes flickering to hers, but it’s so short, too short to process. Because just as quickly as he was looking at her, he’s managed his way out of the headlock, sending the other man to the ground. Roman wastes no time jumping on top of him, gaining and taking full advantage of the upper hand, raining blow on top of blow on Drew with a pace and aggression that seems almost inhuman.

The light blue of the mat is suddenly splashed and splayed with blood. Drew’s. Roman’s chest and fist also stained, Solana wincing a bit as even from a distance she sees the way Drew's face has become almost disfigured by blood, bruising, and swelling. 

He’s clearly lost consciousness, but that doesn’t stop Roman.

No, instead a deep frown falls on her face as she watches Roman move outside of the ring and lift up the metal staircase that he brings back into the ring with him. She turns her head right before the impact between the steps and the unconscious man.

Unalive man, because there’s no way Drew is still breathing. Not with the severity of the beating. 

Bayley and Naomi are clearly also taken back by witnessing a live murder but clearly do their best not to make it a thing for her sake. She’s appreciative, but it still doesn’t delete her confusion towards Roman’s behavior.

Overkill. Barbaric. Sadistic, almost. 

And with all of that, the confliction she’s experiencing, Solana can only think of one thing, what the hell happened in that ring to bring about that kind of rage in her husband?

————

Roman doesn’t say much to her.

It’s not surprising. She’s not quite sure what there is to say. Him viciously beating a man to death isn’t, at the core of it, something that needs explaining.

That doesn’t stop her from trying to almost dance around the subject. Asks him if he’s feeling alright, if he wants her to fix him anything, and things of the sort. It doesn’t do much. His responses are minimal, a few words to each statement, at best.

It bothers her to know something is bothering him, that he won’t talk to her, but also, Solana can admit she’s not sure how to talk with him about this.

She’d certainly do her best though, if he was actually willing to open up to her. 

She doesn’t force it though, just welcomes his arms around her as they lay in bed, eventually falling asleep together. 

However, Dulce does what Dulce does best and wakes up in the middle of the night, politely reminding her parents of her small bladder. Regardless of her sleep intrusion, Solana is grateful to be able to escort their puppy out of the room without disturbing her husband’s much needed and deserved sleep. 

But, it’s as Dulce seems to take her sweet time finding the perfect spot to relieve herself that Solana frowns. Lifting her hand to her breast, she’s taken back by the tenderness of the touch. New and out of the norm. 

Another……symptom?

Even with the night’s unexpected events, as much as she’s trying to not allow herself to get too excited at the possibility of being pregnant, it’s hard not to. Especially with the strange onset of symptoms she’s been experiencing all week. Some seen before or during her cycle, but some new and unfamiliar. And a quick google search confirmed they in fact could be early pregnancy symptoms.

But still, Solana has gained enough self-introspection to know that a negative test would be…..difficult for her to process. Something she doesn’t really even want to think about, hence why she’s not allowing herself to fully acknowledge that she’s probably pregnant.

Because the alternative would be…..not the desired outcome.

It’s as she observes the backyard, seeing the reflection of the lights above the pool that a random thought crosses her mind. A question, rather. Would they have to cover up the pool when the baby starts crawling? What other changes around the house would have to be implemented for safety reasons? Most definitely, they’d have to stock up on those baby proof outlet covers. And maybe even block off the staircase.

Something tells her any child of her husband would be mobile. On the run. A small smile settles on her face, her hand falling to her belly as she once again mentally puts together what their child will look like. Him. Her. Both of them.

Both would be her preference. Roman would be a close second.

Dulce’s short legs carry her back into the house, her wagging tale eliciting a smile and small laugh. “Good job—”

“Where the hell were you?”

Solana jumps and gasps. Outside of his sudden presence in the living room startling her, Roman's tone and volume indicate a level of irritation that doesn’t quite compute. Doesn’t make sense. Where else would she have been? 

Confused, she answers, “Dulce had to use the bathroom...”

This didn’t seem to be the answer he neither wanted nor needed. His expression is sharp. “So you went out there alone?”

This brings a frown to her face, a contrast to her almost jovial disposition not even minutes prior. Solana points out in a calm voice, “Roman, I–I always go alone.”

“Not anymore.” She can’t protest, because he adds. “Wake me up, and if I’m not here, let her use the damn crate.”

“But—”

“You heard what I said!”

His voice bounces off the walls and echoes through the hall, but it’s Solana’s jump away from him that seems to trigger something for Roman. His expression immediately softens. “Shit, I’m sorry, I–I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

She says nothing for a good minute before quickly deciding that beating around the bush isn’t the way to go in this situation.

She needs to be direct.

“Ro….what happened tonight?” 

She’d briefly played around with the idea of bringing it up to him or letting it lie. Obviously, the latter is not the best route to go. “You….you were off. You lost control, and that’s….that’s not like you.”

In the ring is when she’s noticed he’s most controlled, never allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment and actions because he recognizes the detriment it would cause. Yes, he’s violent and brutal, but it’s still controlled. Not tonight. …tonight she saw that impulsive, emotion driven man she’d heard whispers about over the years. Tonight, she saw him take a man’s life, and not in a controlled methodical way, but in a moment of pure rage and spontaneity. 

She’d never tell him this, never allow it to leave her mouth, but for a split second, it scared her. Solana wasn’t naive enough to truly think that his kindness or love toward her made him any less of a cold-blooded killer. And she knows, without a shadow of a doubt that he would never hurt her or direct his anger towards her.

But.

 But, the look in his eyes tonight…it was as if he had no soul. 

And that….that is what scared her. 

His gaze darts to the corner of the room, an intentional act to avoid her own, she’s sure. “He pissed me off.”

“Ro….people piss you off all the time, and you don’t beat them to death like you did him.” It’s such a strange experience, speaking with him so casually. Solana can still recall the tightness in her chest every time she was in the vicinity of this man, the fear she struggled to manage when even looking at him, often keeping her gaze downward. And now, she’s pushing him on what is obviously a lie. Or a deep state of denial. “He—he said something to you.” That’s when he finally sets his eyes on her. “I–I saw it.”

“Does it matter now?” 

“Yes—yes, it does, because you just snapped at me for taking our dog out to use the bathroom, something I’ve done for months now.” It’s not until saying that aloud that a thought crosses her mind. “Was—was it about me? Did—did he say something about me?” And when he says nothing, doesn’t deny it or push back or even snap at her again that she realizes that’s exactly what it was.

And it confuses the mess out of her. 

What could have been said to cause him to react so violently? Even more, how could it have been any different from the shit talking they all do in the ring?

“I don’t—I don’t understand.” Her eyes follow him as he moves toward the living room, sitting on the edge of the sofa. Tentatively and without much thought, her legs carry her toward him, but she stops just shy of being at arms length. Noticing this, Roman motions her closer with his index finger. And as soon as she’s close enough, he tugs her onto his lap. Seeing the conflict in his eyes, she moves her hand to his bicep. “Baby, please talk to me…..”

Like many, if not any, interaction with her comforting urge, Roman finds it difficult to deny her. He struggles to push back those words that have secretly haunted him even hours after he put a permanent end to McIntyre. 

“You really think you can keep her safe?” His cruel taunt, wicked smile revealing the blood building in his mouth, coating his teeth. “She’ll die just like rest of your fucking fam—”

“Ro…”

And it's her soft voice that pulls him from the memory as he shares with her what was said. “He said I couldn’t keep you safe, that you’d die like the rest of my family.” She gasps. Whatever was said had to have been bad and most likely somehow about her. She just didn’t know it would be that.

Shaking her head, she pushes his hair back. “He was just…he was just trying to get in your head.” And I think it worked. Solana would never verbalize as such to Roman, but it’s a thought she can’t dismiss. She’s never seen him this bothered. “Nothing—nothing’s going to happen to me, Ro.”

“I told you before that I don’t—I don’t feel things like you. That I don’t—feel anything.” She remembers it vividly. That conversation between them that was during the early days of their love story. Something that feels so long ago now. “I was wrong. I’ve—I’ve always felt anger, but now I’m feeling other things too, and I don’t know how—” He stops himself, clearly changing directions. “I’m sorry I did that in front of you—”

“It’s fine, Ro. I—” Because despite that brief second of ear, her first and foremost concern is him. It’s always him. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

He’s quiet for a moment, sharing in an almost unsure voice. “I count your pills every day before I go to bed.” She’s still, unmoving, unsure how to process such a thing. Because she knows why, exactly why he does that. And it nearly breaks her heart in fucking half. “Losing you is the only thing in this fucking world that scares me.” Voice shifting into something desperate and almost vulnerable, he says with all the conviction. “Because, I can’t lose you, Sol.” His gaze is on her, burning with determination. And need. “I won’t.”

“And you won’t.” Her hands move to his face, beard bristling against the skin on her palms. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” She places an almost tentative, chaste kiss to his temple, noticing how his eyes close after. As if he’s more at peace. “Roman, I am with you until my dying breath, and that won’t be happening anytime soon. Not for you. Not for me.”

And not for their child growing inside of her.

“Why don’t—why don’t we go see Fetu this weekend?” It’s technically early Saturday morning already, and Solana returns to work Monday, but even just a day or two spent with his aunt could probably make a difference for her husband who she sees needs to get away. “Or even if you just go—I can stay—”

“No.” His voice is still low, but it’s not as weighed down. She’s grateful for at least that. “She’d be pissed if I showed up without you.” The hint of humor in his voice makes her heart swell. 

“We’ll go.” It’s not necessarily a suggestion anymore. It’s a plan. “You’ll clear your head, and everything will be better, okay?” He looks at her, nodding quietly. Solana makes a mental note to make sure to pack one or two pregnancy tests, because what better way to break the news to him than being able to tell Fetu right after? Together.

It seems like a perfect plan to her. 

Noticing Dulce has already left and went back upstairs, Solana suggests the same to her husband. “Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

It’s then that Solana realizes his hand on her hip is moving in slow, soothing circles. She can’t tell if it’s for his comfort or hers. Placing her hand over his, she gives a gentle tug, moving off his lap but never allowing her hand to leave his. 

His movements are slow initially, but he stands up and allows her to guide them up the stairs and back into their bedroom. Solana easily resumes their earlier sleeping position, grateful and thankful when he kisses her temple and murmurs, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

The exact moment when she falls asleep, or even when he does, is unknown. But what is known is when she’s woken up to the sound of grunts and muttered protests.

“I’ve gotta….save…them.”

Solana blinks and rubs at her eyes. “Ro?”

Sitting up, she sees him twisting and turning, an almost distressed look on his handsome face. Her heart drops. A nightmare. He’s having a nightmare.

Naturally, Solana moves her hand to his shoulder, shaking him a bit. “Roman, wake up.” She might as well have done nothing, because he’s continuing to stir, mumbling in Samoan. Voice so low that even if she did speak the language, she wouldn’t hear him. 

Without thinking twice about it, Solana climbs on top of him, straddling him as she continues her efforts to awaken him. “Roman, baby, please wake up.” It’s both familiar and unfamiliar. She knows this struggle very well. Has lived through it almost her entire life, but she’s never been on this end. Been on the side of watching someone go through it.

Least of all, Roman. 

And she hates it. Hates it with everything in her because she knows how heavy and devastating it is to be sucked into reliving trauma. That’s why she ups the ante, raising her voice and essentially hitting him on his shoulders.

“Roman! Wake u—”

“No!” 

It all happens so fast. Almost too fast for Solana to truly process what’s occurring in the moment. It’s only afterwards that she can recount it, can recall what just happened, can process that at the same time she went to try to save him from himself, Roman shot awake with an instinctive swing, a natural, almost protective thing that results in Solana shoved to the edge of the bed, mouth open, holding onto her face. 

It’s an instant stinging sensation, a dull, throbbing pain that she hasn’t felt in some time and never anticipated feeling as a result of her own husband. 

A husband who is now awake and also aware of what just happened. His widened eyes and open mouth are on her as Solana winces a bit and flexes her jaw, trying to gather herself. He’s up. That’s the only thing that matters. 

“Oh my God.” She’s not sure she’s ever heard Roman sound so horrified. “Solana—”

Her name is enough to pull her back to him, Solana climbing on his lap, shaking her head as she cups his face. “It’s okay. I’m—I’m okay—”

“I hit you….”

Even him saying it aloud seems and feels wrong to Solana. “No, baby—you were having a nightmare. It wasn’t like that—”

“I hit you, Solana.” He’s not even looking at her, looking down, perplexed, disturbed with himself, clearly trying to sit on this unfathomable thing. 

“Roman, I’m fine. Really.” Her face is throbbing, and she’s certain she’ll have a bruise come morning, but it’s nothing compared to what she’s received in the past. From the actual hitting she used to be on the receiving end of. From her dad and brother. “Ro, I did the same thing to you, remember? I—I ripped out your stitches.” It’s something she felt horrified at herself for in the moment. Probably close to what he’s feeling even though she’d rather he not because he’s done nothing wrong. “Baby—”

Shaking his head, Roman lowers her hands from his face. “I’m sorry.” She goes to reassure him that he’s fine, that she’s fine, but Roman is fast, easily moving the blankets off him, forcing her to the side, off him. 

“Roman, no—” She scrambles off the bed as he goes for the door of their bedroom, effectively planting herself in front of it. “No, you’re not leaving.”

He closes his eyes, his voice almost desperate. “Solana, please.”

“No!” Raising her voice wasn’t an intentional thing, just a result of her own emotions brewing in this moment. She’s not even thinking about herself, about the pain in her face. She’s just thinking about the man in front of her who looks disgusted with himself. “Roman, I am fine.”

Because she is.

Because even with all of her trauma, having been hurt so deeply and badly by men, Roman unintentionally striking her didn’t fill her with an ounce of fear. Didn’t make her want to put as much distance between them as possible. Didn’t have any effect on how she sees and feels about him.

She could only focus on him and how distressing his nightmare must have been to result in such a response. 

“I hurt you….” It’s the way his voice almost wavers with the word ‘hurt’ along with his fraught countenance that has her chest tightening. She’s never seen him look so upset, and the fact that it’s solely directed toward himself is gut-wrenching. 

“No,” her voice catches in the back of throat, eyes watering. She reaches up and cups his face. “Baby, listen to me. You could never hurt me.”

Something flashes in his eyes, something akin to anger as he asks in a tight voice, “But, I did." She shakes her head, ready to stand here all night trying to convince him that he’s not in the wrong when he takes it a step further. “How is it any different from your dad and brother?”

It’s an active effort to not back away from him, to not drop her hands and for no reason other than putrid disgust. Disgust that he could even fix his mouth to say such a thing. To put himself into that category. 

Solana swallows, specifically choosing each and every word that leaves her mouth. “Roman…I was raped. Violently. For—for hours. I couldn’t—I couldn’t walk afterwards.” She hates talking about this, hates reliving the horrors just from recounting, but she’ll do just about anything to wipe away that gutted, guilty look on her husband’s face. “Wes—Wes was the reason I first started cutting myself, because—” She closes her eyes, having never said these words aloud to anyone. “Because he made me do it. He said it was my—my punishment for getting our mother killed. And eventually….eventually I started to believe him, so I just started doing it to myself, because I thought it was what I deserved.” Another deep, shaky exhale. “My own father tried to kill me.” Roman’s expression slips into something in the vein of surprised. Confused even. Horrified, mostly. “I tried to run away once, and he put me in the hospital for two weeks and told me that if I ever tried to leave again that he’d— he’d make sure to finish the job.”

Roman doesn’t say anything, and truth be told, she’s not sure she wants him to. She just wants him to listen, really listen and allow her words to penetrate his thick layer of undeserved guilt. “You are the first man in my life to never hurt me the way I’ve been hurt, so don’t you ever fucking say again that you hurt me or put yourself in the same category as those bastards. You are nothing like them.” Because she’d rather walk barefoot on burning coal for the rest of her life than for him to ever even think he’s in the same group as them. “So, please, please just—” 

Solana feels it rising, traveling up her body at the most impromptu time. “Shit,” she curses, slapping her hand over her mouth as she dashes to the bathroom, hitting the light, barely making it to the toilet that, thankfully, is already open and ready for her to deposit what feels like everything she ate that day into the commode.

It’s such a miserable, uncomfortable experience, more or less dry heaving over the toilet in the middle of the night. 

Just added to the list of unfortunate things that have happened. A heavy wave of exhaustion washes over her as she lays her head down on her arm that’s stretched across the toilet seat. She feels like shit, and it has nothing to do with what just happened.

If only she could tell her husband that.

Because Roman is suddenly behind her, hand on the small of her back, asking if she’s alright. Glancing over at him, she shakes her head, mustering up a quiet excuse of it probably being something she ate.

He doesn’t look convinced, and Solana knows it’s because he’s somehow connecting this to what just happened. She’d give anything to be able to wipe that belief from his mind, to tell him it’s just morning sickness, a common pregnancy symptom.

Because with all of the dots connecting, there’s no doubt in Solana’s mind. Any test would just be a formality. She knows her body. 

She knows that she’s pregnant.

But, something tells her that telling Roman this will only make things worse. Make him feel even more guiltier than what he’s already experiencing. Would kill him to know he ‘hit’ her while she’s carrying his child. 

This isn’t the way she wants to tell him, either. Not like this. No, it needs to be…..special. After all he’s done and probably had to put up with in order to explain them not producing a child after almost eight months of marriage. She can’t announce it like this. 

He deserves better.

The wave passes as Solana stands up and flushes the toilet, moving over to the sink to brush her teeth, praying that’s the extent of it. For now, at least. Roman is watching and observing her closely the whole time. 

Mouth clean and stripped, somewhat, of that bitter aftertaste, she takes his hand and guides him back to their bedroom. Gratitude fills her when he doesn’t protest the way she practically climbs on top of him, her body resting on his, an intentional position to prevent him from trying to leave out without her noticing. 

“Stay with me….” It’s the only thing that leaves her mouth, a soft but firm delivery. It’s the only thing she wants and needs in this moment, for his arms to remain around her, holding her, the same way she’s holding him. 

The way she'll always hold onto him.

————

It’s purely a stroke of luck that allows Roman to wake up at the call of his biological clock and find that Solana is no longer atop him but sleeping on her side, back toward him, deeply immersed in much deserved slumber. 

But, it's not even a minute later that a heaviness overtakes him as he’s quickly reminded of what happened. Of what he did. What he did to her.

Roman doesn’t hesitate to carefully climb out of bed and move to Solana’s side, hitting the switch on the lamp for a clear presentation. Something he wasn’t ready for. Not in the slightest.

“Jesus Christ….”

Dread fills him all over again with the illumination of the lamp on Solana’s nightstand. Gives him a full, unobstructed view of the left side of her face. A not even fully formed, nasty looking bruise marring her features.

Roman knew that he had to hit her hard, that she had to be downplaying the impact, but the big ass, dark bruise can’t hide the hideous truth. The extent is ugly and evident. It’s a fucking miracle he didn’t fracture or break something. Because he absolutely could have. Not that that makes a huge difference, because regardless of the severity, he hit her. 

He fucking hit her. 

It feels undeserving, the way he reaches his hand to gently caress her marred face. His stomach clenches as he mutters the three words that could never change, lessen or take back what he’s done.

“I’m so sorry….” Because he is. Because Roman’s list of regrets in life is minimal. Less than the average person, of this, he’s sure. But this, what happened last night is easily at the top of that list. He doesn’t hesitate to turn the switch off, not wanting to have to see the consequences of his horrific actions, even if he should.

Even if he should have to face it. Should have to be faced with the one thing he swore he would never do.

Because that’s exactly what he’s done.

He doesn’t bother waking her up for her medication. Just leaves it in a small, ramekin-like bowl for her to take whenever she wakes up. With the night she had, he hopes she sleeps for a couple more hours.

And he’s grateful for the time he has to himself, to workout, to shower, to think, to act. Even if it’s all a bit of a blur.

Years. It’s been years since he’s experienced that type of rage. Since he’s blacked out like that. Because that’s exactly what happened. Roman remembers Drew’s ominous threat, recalls the beginning of the beating, but most after that is blotchy. Blurred. And the last time he felt that way….was the night he killed Rhodes' family.

Not that he regretted it then or now. Even Drew. No, what he regrets and doesn’t know how to process is that he lost that control in front of his wife. That he lost it with his wife, resulting in her battered face. 

Despite the horrors of trauma she’s experienced at the hands of men in her life and the fact that what happened was unintentional, it doesn’t negate what he did. It was wrong, and she didn’t deserve it. 

She doesn’t deserve to put up with any of the shit he’s dealing with right now.

What happened with Jey was something he hated having to do in front of her, but this….this is entirely different.

A line was completely crossed.

And it can’t happen again.

Much later that morning, closer to noon than anything is when Roman finds her in the kitchen changed out of her pajamas and into short shorts and a shirt. Normally, he’d be focused on how good she looks and how much he appreciates seeing her confidence grow to where she doesn’t try to hide her body. But, it’s hard with the dark bruising on her face.

She’s clearly in the middle of fixing something but walks over to him, warm smile on her face as she places her hand on his chest. “There you are.” She leans up and kisses him, sharing, “I was wondering when you’d come out. I’m fixing us lunch right quick before we get on the road.”

She turns back towards the counter right as he says her name. “Solana—”

“Do you want anything in particular?”

“Solana.”

“I can make—”

“Solana.” He says it a third and final time, seeing the way she pauses. Deflection. It’s intentional. She can clearly tell something is wrong. With a slow turn to look at him again, it takes everything in him to not look away. The fucking bruise. “I’m leaving tonight.”

Her small smile immediately drops into a deep scowl. “Wh—what?” He briefly redirects his gaze, focusing on the laces of his sneakers instead of the disappointment he knows he’s about to lay on her. “You want—you want to get on the road tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and forces himself to bite the bullet. There’s no need in stretching this out. “No, Solana, I’m—I’m flying out to Italy tonight.”

Nothing could have prepared him for the gutted look on her face. She’s clearly confused, smartly pointing out, “but—but you said you weren’t leaving until next week.”

His jaw clenches as he answers so calmly. “Plans changed.”

Her gaze is intense, her eyes never leaving his. “The plans changed or you changed them?” He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t have to. She already knows the answer. Solana swallows, eyes watering as she walks over to him. “Please don’t do this. Roman, what happened wasn’t your fault. I’m fine.”

“Solana, you are not fine. Have you seen your face?” It’s not intended to be harsh, and the coarseness in his tone is truly directed to no one but himself. “I know my strength. You know my strength. It’s a fucking miracle it’s not worse than what it already is. If I had hit you hard enough and at the right angle—”

“But, you didn’t.” She knows exactly what he’s getting at, and she refuses to allow him to travel down that dark 'what if' road. “Ro, I know you’re upset with yourself, but please don’t do this. You don’t need to leave. I don’t want you to leave.”

And deep down, he doesn’t want to leave. Would love to stay here and just go see his aunt with his wife, but that won’t solve anything. It’s putting an old band-aid on an open, deep wound. He needs to separate himself so that he can turn his feelings completely off. Disconnect and detach. 

Or sort through in a way that is violent and unacceptable here. Especially around Solana.

And that’s exactly what being in Italy, being around those people, could do for him. 

Roman tries to explain as such to his wife without going into too much detail.

“You’re right. I do need to get away. But, going by Fetu isn’t going to help this.” It’s not going to help, because he doesn’t have an abundance of confusion he needs to sort through. He has anger, aggression, rage. All unlocked by fucking McIntyre that he needs to do away with, and being around his aunt, cousin, and even wife won’t do it. “We can go when I get back—”

She closes her eyes. “Roman—”

“Solana.” He’ll be honest, he expected her to not be happy with his decision, but her level of emotionality seems on the higher end of normal. She seems more emotional than usual. “I love you.” And he always will. “But, what happened last night can’t happen again.”

He won’t let it happen again.

“What if—what if I leave?” She suggests, Roman frowning at the almost desperation in her tone. “I can go stay with Naomi or Bayley for a couple days. Give—give you space.”

“Solana—”

“Hell, even Nia, if that would make you feel better.”

“Sol—”

“Just please.” Her voice cracks as she grabs onto his shirt, begging almost, “please don’t leave me.” She buries herself into his chest, Roman holding her, wanting to assure her that he’s not leaving her. He’s leaving the situation to get a clear mind, to figure out what he needs to do. 

Because he wasn’t lying when he said there’s nothing in this world that scares him more than losing her. Than something happening to her. 

He just could have never anticipated that he could ever be a direct reason for something happening to her.

That something bad—or worse—could happen to her at his hands.

Because he swore he’d always protect her. 

And he always will.

Even if that danger is himself.

Even if it means doing what neither of them may want but is ultimately what’s best for her. 

Even if it breaks the heart that will always belong to her. 

Whether they’re together or not.

[blueycarpenter]

betelgeuse x lydia hcs pls 👀

Betelgeuse x Lydia Deetz HCs

────────                                                                                  GIFs are not mine

Betelgeuse with Lydia

follows her around EVERYWHERE - he's even followed her into the bathroom, where she had to physically push him out and tell him to go wait in the other room because waiting outside the door was a violation of her privacy.

will do literally anything to make her smile or laugh.

is very affectionate, even in inappropriate situations.

values physical contact/affection with her but doesn't do anything/touch anywhere she tells him not to.

plays dumb just to have her help him with random shit.

rarely refers to/calls her by name, everything is a pet name.

has licked her before, which grosses her out but amuses him.

Lydia with Betelgeuse

genuinely trusts him with her well-being, even if she acts like she can't stand him.

gets flustered when he gets too intimate with her (he's been known to cross some lines every now and then).

will deny any interest in him, however actions speak louder than words, and some things she does or lets him do proves her claim to be questionable to others observing. 🤔

keeps the playlist he made for her and listens to it from time to time.

the only things she can't bring herself to allow is kissing him, being held by him, and sleeping/making-out with him. the closest they got was being in the same bed and him insistent with having his arm around her, but she was very clear with boundaries.

would put her life on the line to protect him, if necessary.

not afraid to tell him off, snap at him, or boss him around. he listens of course.

Together

"I Know Places" by Taylor Swift is their theme (Beetlejuice Beetlejuice).

are ironically on the same page. a lot.

aside from the possession antics, they are impressive dance partners. can do a mean tango and improvise a separate dance style as well. 😜

are conscious of each other's well-being in abnormal situations.

would be the first to take care of each other if sick or injured.

typical extrovert x introvert energy. they shouldn't work, but they do.

are the type of duo to sporadically race each other up/down a hill or stairs, down the street, to a mutual destination, etc.

i love these two sm. thank you for requesting them!! 🩵

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1269

Chapter 30:

You took a deep breath, not wishing to go further down that particular memory. It was still not a happy thing, and you would be lying if you said it didn't affect you from time to time.

Wishing to forget, you chose to stand just as you felt Rio even closer to you. She did love invading your personal space, often choosing to do that when you had your back turned; making your heart beat faster.

For you could sense her and the danger coming with her. Your body reacted with adrenaline and excitement, and a part of your subconscious yearned for her hard touch when you least expected it.

Controlling your emotions and not letting them push you towards a quick way to forget, you turned to face her.

Once again, you stood merely a breath away. Invisible waves of power radiating from both of you, clashing and mixing. The red full moon casted its light on your faces, one side brighter than the other; the perfect duality.

Rio initiated the first move, her fingers gently tucking a strand behind your ear. Her long nails carefully caressed your skin at the same time, drawing invisible lines that made you shiver and part your lips faintly.

She eyed them carefully but did not move for the claim, not yet. "You shouldn't be here, baby girl," she repeated like she had done back then in the woods. "It's not too late to leave,"

Her words managed to bypass the mixing emotions that she was causing you with her touch, and you focused on what she was saying. "We both know I can't leave the Road," you reminded her. "Not unless I am dead... and I doubt you are looking forward to that."

Rio smirked at your words.

She had taken an interest in you, a liking. You were not like Agatha.... no, your case was different yet equally compelling. You were unique, one of a kind, and she would be a fool to just let you go like that; to let you slip through her fingers.

"See, you know me too well." she finally commented after staring at you with a darker, more lustful look. Her hand never stopped caressing your skin. Her face then shifted to a more serious one. "You can get out of here, I can help you,"

You were surprised by her determination to get you out, her stubbornness not to let you continue down the path. Partially, you thought she was just being the weird, possessive, caring woman you had come to know her... but not entirely.

A little voice in the back of your mind kept suspecting that Rio had other plans... other plans for Agatha, considering their not so good terms of their former relationship. And if that was the case, she wanted you out because you would be a bigger obstacle than she wanted.

"What about Agatha?" You asked innocently, hiding your suspicions and thoughts from her sharp gaze.

"This is her fight, not yours. She has no choice."

"But I do," you countered and took a deep breath. "And I choose to stand with her until the very end of my life."

Something flashed into her eyes, and the hand that was so gently caressing your skin chose to attack it all the same. One moment, you were fighting goosebumps from showing up, and the next, you found her hand wrapped around her neck; threatening to block your air intake.

Rio pulled you closer that way, and you stared at her with wide eyes at the manhandling, one hand grabbing her wrist in a futile attempt to free your neck.

The Green Witch seemed to take inner joy and pleasure in that wide eye doe look you were giving her, the feeling of your beating pulse beneath her fingers making her high; temptations filling her mind and was so close in squeezing just a tad more.

"And Agatha thinks you are not such a witch," she commented, remembering how certain Agatha was for you.

How certain she was you would not be able to help them form the three witch coven. Yet if she could hear you know, if she could see what Rio saw... she would change her mind.

"What... what are you talking about?" You managed to ask, trying to ignore any feelings pooling in your body from the manhandling but also not let panic arise within you by the fact that you were chocked.

Rio offered a toothy grin. "Nothing," she replied as enigmatic as ever. She then pulled you closer and stole a quick, needy kiss.

Your eyes were wide at the gesture, but soon, your emotions got the best of you. The tide was high, the waves crashing wildly against the shore, and it was impossible to try and escape them as they took you with them.

And so, you closed your eyes and returned the kiss; feeling how addictive her lips felt and how oddly nice and Earthly they felt against yours.

Rio seemed to approve your willingness to follow as she pressed you more against her and attacked your lips. Her teeth bit and pulled your lower lip with hunger, satisfied only when you both felt the familiar metallic sensation of blood in your mouths.

She didn't let you pull back until she was satisfied, and only when she wished it did she let you get for some air. She released your neck and watched with satisfaction at your bleeding lip and the faint red marking of fingers against your pale skin.

You panted, staring at her with wide eyes, and you subconsciously brought a finger to your lips; only to see the bright red colour of your blood staining it.

"You should go now" she said, acting as if she had not just devoured you a second go; or the fact that she felt tempted to take you on those floor pillows with the body of Alice as a spectator.

"Why?" You found the courage to ask, your brain still trying to recover from what had just happened.

"I fear your duty as Agatha's White Knight is calling you," she replied enigmatically once again. "Oh, one more thing,"

Before you could ask her or even take a step towards the exit, you saw her licking her index finger and then drug it above your lips; specifically above her teeth wound on you.

Her magic worked fast, healing the wound as the finger passed above it, and only then did she pull back. She smirked and motioned with her hand in a 'shoo' motion, a sign it was time for you to go.

You had so many questions, so many things you wanted to say or ask, but you didn't. Rembering Agatha, you turned and hurriedly towards the exit; glancing at Rio one last time above your shoulder before you climbed the wooden ladder.

The missing coven members...

Once out, you took a moment to breathe deeply the fresh air, and you moved further down the path; expecting to find the others waiting, hopefully.

However, you came to a halt when you didn't find them. Instead, you only found Teen standing alone, a faint blue glow still visible in his hands.

He sensed you, and as he turned, you took notice of a crown that had formed on his head and that look in his eyes.

The mising Agatha...

Teen with magic...

Immediately, you connected the dots, and before he could try anything, whether to attack or talk to you, you moved in first; white magic coming alive as your temper flared.

Rio's words....

Chapter 31

[kiyo-cant-write]

hi hi! jade req again, kinda toxic this time

can we get jade with a reader who’s really easy to manipulate and they know it? idk if it makes sense but like jade realizing reader isn’t oblivious to his manipulation, just kinda self-destructive and hopelessly into him

jade thought he was being slick because reader wasn’t calling him out on anything, but he overhears their conversation and finds out that they’re fully aware jade is a ton of red flags but is still staying anyway, and his reaction to that

i really hope this makes sense! idk how to word it

jade w/ an easily manipulated reader ✧･ﾟ

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Aw! Thank you for another request! I love Jade and Octavinelle so much! I hope that I did your idea justice. Please let me know if you'd like another request in the future! Onwards to the story! ^^

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Summary: Jade Leech has been stringing [Name] along for fun and due to the instruction of Octavinelle's Housewarden. He thought he was doing well... but it seems [Name] may have had ulterior motives.

TW/CW: Toxicity but the standard Fish Mafia kind

Notes: established "relationship", they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, the reader is described as human and younger than Jade/frosh, ADeuce if you squint, implied to be post-Azul OB

Guest Stars: Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Grim, Azul Ashengrotto & Floyd Leech (referenced)

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jade Leech

As much of a sadist as Jade can be, he's not exceptionally cruel outside of what he deems as the necessity for his purposes.

He is a bit smug when he thinks he has [Name] under control.

Jade is pretending to be "honor student Jade Leech."

He acts as their friend and support albeit for the Lounge.

He pretends to care, to do everything to help them.

He smiles at them, speaks politely, and even "affectionately."

They trust him and they tell him things they shouldn't.

He will use those bits of information when the time comes.

Every time they have an inkling of doubt, he squashes it.

His surprise is evident when Floyd points out that it might not be the case this time, but Floyd is Floyd and doesn't explain.

Wanting to make sense of this discovery, Jade observes [Name].

He watches to see if [Name] really has caught onto him.

Jade is intrigued and what he finds does not disappoint.

He is surprised to find that they caught on long ago.

But they stayed? Why?

Because they "love" him?

Why would they love the guy trying to string them along?

It didn't make sense to him. He felt a tug at his heartstrings.

Did he feel bad about this?

He didn't know what to do.

Jade starts to avoid [Name] after realizing their feelings.

He retracts further into his honor student persona.

[Name] will not win this fight. He will not be bested by a freshman.

The battle has just begun and Jade needs to bury this sinking feeling in his chest. What does it mean anyway?

Floyd serves as a live studio audience to Jade's struggles.

Jade is an observer. That had been his role for so long, that he wasn't sure when it began. Ever since he was young, he would watch and calculate while Floyd was the type to rush into things, be impulsive, and just a tad stupid at times, at least when they were young. Jade never intended to make his observations a skill, but sooner or later, everything becomes an asset.

That's what his father had always said.

His mother worried about the sadistic streak in her son, but she couldn't do anything to prevent its development. Jade was, after all, a member of the Leech family. He and Floyd would join the family business sooner or later unless they wholly refused its offer.

"[Full Name]," Jade mused to himself, "How interesting."

Azul had been the one to ask him to pay extra close attention to Ramshackle's Prefect in case they strayed too far from things, or got into any trouble. The magicless human that had saved others from themselves, they interested the owner of Mostro Lounge. Jade had simply agreed with Azul's request, observation was his skill, after all.

It had never been meant to evolve, and certainly not into this.

Jade watched as this person fell for his polite words hook, line, and sinker. It was almost too easy. They were shockingly trusting, telling him all sorts of things he could use to be downright evil if he wanted to be. It wasn't time for that, not yet, but one should always guard their secrets (perhaps not as much as Azul, but at least a bit).

He didn't need to do anything unless the moment called for it.

At the time, it had not been necessary.

That was weeks ago.

Azul hadn't given further instructions and, to be fair about it, Jade didn't want to earn that octomer's ire. Not today, anyway. He and Floyd were troublesome, yes, but not stupid.

So, as Azul had instructed, he was trailing the Prefect until told otherwise (or until it became boring, whichever arose first). Though their reactions had been predictable, he could argue that things were getting boring now.

Floyd would have given up ages ago, he was sure of it.

[Full Name] was currently spending their time with their classmates, Ace Trappola (easily swayed by competition and bets) and Deuce Spade (note: gullible as a child). Jade had kept an eye on the three of them (and Grim) because of their closeness. It was rather irritating how buddy-buddy they were. He had worked a bit to get [Name] alone those few times they had spoken privately.

Standing away from the trio, Jade listened in on their conversation.

"[Name], I don't think that this is good," Deuce told them, clearly worried for their friend's mental state, "You need to be more careful. Don't you remember what happened to me and Ace?"

"I fucking remember!" Ace chimed in, "It sucked. Don't trust fish."

"Nya! Fish are food, not friends," Grim told them, "Especially eels!"

"Ah... You guys..."

Jade almost wanted to chuckle at Grim's words of "wisdom" but he withheld it, knowing that he mustn't give away his position. Not yet.

"You shouldn't trust Leech-senpai," Deuce continued, "Do you not remember how he and his twin brother acted before?"

"THEY TRIED TO KILL US, [NICKNAME]!!" Ace interrupted Deuce, earning him a glare from the navy-haired boy, "Sorry, Deuce-chan."

"Don't call me that."

What Deuce was doing could only be described as glowering.

"Lighten up and help me convince [Nickname] not to get themselves murdered by a shady eel and a shadier octopus!" Ace told him, slapping Deuce on the shoulder, "Just because they're better doesn't mean they're changed fish! Fish are suspicious!"

"Ace, do you have some fish-related trauma outside of campus that I should know about?" Deuce asked him, "It's starting to seem—"

"FOCUS ON [NICKNAME], DEUCE."

Ace's reddened face was a sign that Deuce was on to something with that fishy nonsense. Jade Leech would remember that fact.

Fish trauma. Noted.

"....Okay," Deuce agreed, turning back to [Name], "Do you want to tell us what you've been doing with Leech-senpai? We're worried..."

Deuce trailed off for a moment before he added a Deuce-typical offer.

"I can fight him if you want me to. They're messing with my friend."

"N-no thanks, Deuce... I don't think I need that," [Name] said, laughing at the antics of her friends and roommate, "Honestly, I know he's not being honest with me... But I don't really... care?"

The words surprised Jade but he refused to give himself away. There was more information to be gathered, for his own needs and Azul's.

They don't mind my dishonesty? Heh...

"I have never been more concerned for you than I am right now," Ace said, tone lacking its usual goofy undertone, "Do you want me to tell Mom and Dad about anything? They would help..."

Ace wasn't sure what to do but this was a worry. So frantic to say his sentence Ace neglected to register his misnomer for Vice Housewarden Trey Clover and everyone's favorite senpai Cater Diamond. He could lay awake and think about that later.

Deuce clearly felt similarly as he reached out to put a hand on [Name]'s. He wasn't good at solving problems of the emotional variety but he could be a support. Or, he would try to be one.

"Even if we can't say anything helpful... We can be here to listen."

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine," [Name] tried to assure them (but it wasn't working), "I just... I like Jade-senpai... and if this is how... he will talk to me... then I am okay with it. I've just been going along with all... that."

Jade felt time stop for a millisecond as he processed the words. They had been "playing along"? They didn't fall for every trick? Perhaps this was more interesting than he had thought. Still. He didn't like being bested, perhaps he needed to up his game...

"[Name], that's not good... I don't think..." Deuce managed.

"I wish Mom and Dad were here..." Ace mumbled.

"[Name], don't leave me for a fish! It's not even tuna!"

Grim clung to his human with small paws, tail swishing.

Jade was baffled not by those that Azul had previously controlled but by [Name] themself. They were something odd amongst the students of Night Raven College. They didn't shy away from his... methods.

But they said they liked him. He wondered if that made him feel something. He wasn't one to like other people, stay around them long... especially these landfolk.

It was a foreign concept.

Oh dear. [Full Name], you've managed to intrigue me now.

To the concern of Deuce, Ace, and Grim, Jade Leech wouldn't be letting his human prey go any time soon. Not for Azul, or his brother... This was something he was pursuing now. For better or worse.

I hope they're prepared to best me once more.

What would they say if I said I "loved" them? ♪

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Imagine the rest for yourself~

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[blitzwhore]

And the thing is, Loona has also seen this. Particularly in Queen Bee, but also every other day through the pictures on their walls. But she's Blitzø's daughter—it's not her responsibility to give him the emotional support he needs.

And Moxxie, to some extent, has also watched Blitzø crumble. Right after being kidnapped in Truth Seekers, and after Barbie lashes out at Blitzø in Unhappy Campers. But, both times, Blitzø quickly put his walls back up. And Moxxie has Blitzø on a pedestal; even if he wanted to offer his comfort, he wouldn't feel adequate enough to properly give it, and he has no reason to believe Blitzø would willingly open up to him.

And Stolas, too, has seen Blitzø crumble. For a few moments in Ozzie's right before Blitzø drives off, and then in The Full Moon when Blitzø begs him in tears not to end the deal and then lashes out from the shock of being rejected. And in Apology Tour, too, when Blitzø momentarily admits that he hates himself too much to apologise to those he's hurt. But Stolas' world is so different from Blitzø's that even when he's trying to understand and reach out, he does it in all the wrong ways. And when Blitzø is begging—in his way—for him to understand, Stolas is very pointedly looking away.

Over and over, Blitzø has been crumbling like clay in front of the people he cares about. He tries to put on a tough facade, and it does work, but the people closest to him know there's more to Blitzø than he lets on. They just don't know how to reach out, how to be there. Loona shouldn't have to, and Moxxie and Stolas don't know how to.

Millie was the only one left to actively witness him breaking down. And unlike everyone else, she's Blitzø's equal. She doesn't feel inferior to him or unworthy of him—because he helped her believe in herself. She feels a deep appreciation towards him, and, unlike the others, she's emotionally available and strong enough to be a rock he can lean on. She's exactly the right person to help him understand how loved and admired he is, and how contagious his confidence is.

And the thing that hits me hardest is Millie apologises to Blitzø. For not supporting him enough. For assuming he's always okay, and for not being patient and understanding when he was clearly struggling. She shows him that he deserves support from those around him, and she does so in a quiet, private moment that contrasts so well with the loud and crowded Anti-Blitzo party that left him feeling worthless of compassion and care.

And now that he's opened up to her, it might be easier to let down his walls around others, too—Moxxie, and Loona, and Fizz, and, hopefully, also Stolas when their paths cross again.

I really can't wait to see this unfold 😭

Yall have no idea how much it means to me that they touched on Blitz seeming untouchable and bulletproof. THIS IS WHY HE'S NOT GETTING THE COMFORT HE NEEDS-HE IS LYING. TO EVERYONE.

Blitz is actually an amazing little actor. He convinced everyone around him that he's strong as steel and totally inflatable. He was forged in fire and now he's unbreakable.

Verosika. Fizz. MnM. STOLAS. They see this smarmy, sex obsessed, strong as iron douchbag playboy and they take it as fact because he is SO GOOD at presenting it that way.

Millie is the first person to see it shaken, to realize that he is strong and willful and forged by fire, yes...

...but like clay, he crumbles easily.

[mer-acle]

Okay it's that time. I just kinda wanna talk about the nightmare sequence in this chapter of Fighting to be Loved, specifically what's real/ what actually happened bc I love to yap about what i wrote whoops

1. The athletics festival where Pallas got killed did take place in the courtyard, and Zeus, Hera and Poseidon were all there for it.

2. Someone pointed out that it's implied that Athena rewatched the moment of Pallas's death with time dives many times, and that person is correct, that's exactly what happened. Like the goddess of strategy wouldn't try to analyze her own mistake in that moment, trying to understand what went wrong.

3. Athena doesn't really speak or cry as she tries to staunch the bleeding, both of which she originally very much did. The nightmare is kinda meant to take her voice away bc she feels very powerless right now.

4. Pallas did call Athena "Thena" in reality. Nobody is surprised.

5. The whole scene with Triton is unfortunately pretty accurate to reality as well, he was very rough with her in that moment both verbally and physically. So yeah. That slap did happen.

6. Also her kinda flashing back to learning to dive is in reference to what I laid out in this post. I'm kinda just sighing at Triton in tired exasperation.

7. When Triton demands Zeus to take his daughter back, that's pretty much where we leave reality and enter the fucked up world of Athena's guilt-ridden mind. Bc in reality Zeus yielded pretty quickly (Poseidon was like 'you cannot ask them to keep her, not under these circumstances')

8. So yeah actually Zeus said exactly nothing of what he does in the dream. Surprising, I know. The thing is, he wouldn't even taunt Athena with her love for others bc he just expects her to be cold, so if anything she'd be scolded for it. Which still sucks. He made a big fuss about the whole "Pallas Athena" situation so he actually never acknowledges that title of hers, not even in anger, bc he is personally offended that she insisted on it despite him not wanting her to.

9. Also the most obvious, literally nobody in the family made any prayer even close to this one.

10. Zeus definitely makes comments along the lines of "I shouldn't have let you out of my head." when he's angry at Athena. Very much the "be grateful I birthed you" route. So yeah. Athena has like all the reasons to feel unwanted in general bc honestly the only parental figure who unconditionally loved her is literally the immortal equivalent of dead. Poor owl

So yeah that was that fucked up scene I wrote, stay tuned for more LOL.

[captainmera]

In the modern au, what would Caleb's reaction be if Philip's father reached out to him about Philip?

He does make contact!

Caleb is polite, if anything. But mostly overly compliant.

Philip's father didn't know he had a son. And very much want him. He's not a bad person, but both he and Caleb have been given different stories about the other. (they're being manipulated by Anthony Hopkins)

Pip's father has been told that Caleb isn't a great person, but comes across as pleasant and very polite. Meanwhile, Caleb had it pointed out to him that he's in a bad seat, legally.

He's just lost his job at the Roasted Robin's, he's mentally and emotionally unwell - and untreated! Their lives are their version of normal. But Caleb is growing increasingly aware of how not-normal it is.

Legally, Philip's dad has the rights to him. He gets the final say if Caleb is somebody who should be part of Philip's life or not. Caleb knows his record looks bad. But doesn't know Hopkins has set him up to failure.

Hopkins is pretending to help Caleb, in actuality he's just pushing Caleb's circumstances closer to an edge where Caleb will feel there's no better solution than suicide. Which would, in Hopkins world, leave nobody with the knowledge of the royalties.

He's trying to manipulate Caleb the way his mother was manipulated. She gave the church access to her money so she wouldn't spend it all. He's trying to do the same to Caleb, but gaslighting him into believing he's too broken to manage this himself, and needs Hopkins' guidance. Caleb does, after all, not know his way around legal things. And has no reason to disbelieve Hopkins.

Philip, in the case of Caleb dying, would be taken to his father. Leaving the Wittebane home vacant. And Hopkins could get access to any papers that'd be there, where he can sign over rights to himself. Why give it to the church??

Philip, in the meantime, isn't clued in on what's going on.

Caleb and the father discuss how to go forward, what's best for Philip. And Caleb is saying all the right things, which makes the father uncomfortable, because he's been told that Caleb is a good manipulator and mentally/emotionally abusive. So hearing him say very loving and thoughtful suggestions on how to move forward, puts him on edge.

Hopkins is, of course, banking on that the father is an idiot and will blindly trust him. But he keeps his cards close to himself. He lets Caleb's actions speak for him, and is wondering why Hopkins said Caleb was a bad person - sure, rough around the edges, but his heart is full of warmth, especially for his little brother.

Caleb's suggestion is that they move slowly. First, let him tell Philip he *has* a father that didn't know he existed, and now that he knows, wants to be part of his life.

Caleb is acutely aware that, in the end, he has no rights to Pip.

If his father wants it, social workers will get involved and they'll dig up everything that's wrong. If it gets to court, it'll traumatise Philip (mostly Caleb though) and in Caleb's world - he'll definitely lose Philip forever.

So, he's agreeing. And being friendly. And suggests that Philip and his dad hang out, maybe go on father-son dates, maybe start sleeping over on the weekends.. Y'know. Ease him into it.

Philip doesn't like this.

not. one. bit.

To him, it looks like Caleb doesn't want him anymore.

"Why don't you fight for me then?! If you want me, then take it to court!" "With what money?! Look at me, Philip! No authority would let me keep you, and honestly? Maybe they're right! Maybe I shouldn't!" "Caleb-" "No, Philip! Enough..! You know I love you, but maybe I'm.. not good for you? You know? He's not a bad man, for crying out loud, he's a dork! He has a what's cookin' good'lookin apron! I don't have that! I have... Powder-mix flapjacks!" "But I like that, it's home to me.." "Then.. I'll pack some down for you. And it'll help you make a home there too." "...." "..Pip, I don't stop being your home, just because you get a second one." "I don't need a dad. I never needed one, not a mum either. I just needed you, you've always been good enough." "you only think that because you don't know what- Philip, come back. We aren't done talking- okay."

That sorta thing! :D

[neege]

Lesbian Wolfstar Prom AU!!

Part III

Part I | Part II

Part III!! Finally some substance!!! And an explanation of who the hell Emma Pierce is lol. I just read the lesbian wolfstar au that @werewolfenthusiast just posted and it inspired me to update this since it's been sitting in my drafts hehe. I hope you like it!! Remus is struggling in this one, again...

Oh also I learned how to add a cut!!! Part III below 🥰

Remus had always known to an extent that she wasn't particularly interested in boys, at least not in the way that other girls her age seemed to be. Being homeschooled until she was 14, she didn't really interact with any kids her age, and after spending a year at her new fancy private school, she still didn't have a good understand of what her peers were going on about in regard to the sweaty, annoying boys in their year.

So yeah, she already knew she didn't care to be swept up behind the science building with a strong senior football player so he could shove his tongue down her throat—which honestly... does anyone actually want that??—but it wasn't until a sleepover with Lily Evans, winter break of Sophomore year that things... clicked for Remus. She still remembers the fluttery feeling in her stomach, watching Kate Winslet kiss Leo while Lily braided her hair, and she still isn't sure if it was Kate herself or the feeling of another girl's fingers carding so gently through her curls, but she understood herself a bit better that night.

She never watched Titanic again, and she packed that knowledge away in a private little box shoved to the back of her head, locked and not to be opened until she was maybe 30. Or 40. 

And then she became friends with James and Peter.

And Sirius.

The four of them became fast friends—inseparable at all times—god, she loved them all so much.

But Sirius was different.

It was so hard to understand how Remus felt while being around Sirius. She had always been the most beautiful person in any room, maybe in the world, but although it did not go unnoticed by Remus by any means, there was always something else that just... stood out.

She was so smart and quick and funny in a cool, cutting way that no one else their age was. She was top of the class without trying and she was passionate and she made boys cry. She was captivating. And Remus was drawn to her in a way she's never been before.

And then she showed up to the first day of school with a new hair cut and the entire school whispering behind her back—did you hear? Black's a lesbian now—striding confidently up to their typical lunch spot, and Remus knew: she was in so much trouble. 

From that day forward, all she could think about was Sirius. 

Sirius's laugh.

Sirius's eyes. 

Sirius's long fingers and what they might possibly be able to do... 

It was torture.

But she also couldn't help but feel like maybe there could be something there, Remus and Sirius had always been something else—something different than the soul-bond that James and Sirius had, and something much more than her friendly but strained relationship with Pete, even something unique from the friendships Sirius shared with other girls their year. 

They were different, Remus was so sure.

And just when she was starting to come around to the idea of maybe trying her hand at flirting—for the first time!—James decided it would be a grand idea to discuss Sirius's taste in girls.

It was something that he'd apparently been trying to push with Sirius since she'd come out to them all—he seemed to be under the impression that talking about the girls Sirius might like would make everyone, but especially Sirius, feel more comfortable in their friendships. Remus wasn't sure. She kinda thought that maybe they shouldn't know so much about each other.

Unless it's me she likes. I wouldn't mind knowing that.

It had been a failing endeavor for about 2 months, with Sirius refusing to speak about the subject unless it was to crack a joke about Lily, which James was not very amused by. 

And then one early November school day, it happened. 

"Come on Sirius, we all know you have a type! You're so damn particular about everything else, how could you not!" 

"Shut up, dumbass!" Sirius was leaned back in her plastic school chair, balancing on the back two legs in a way that arched her back and pulled at her shirt to reveal her bellybutton—which Remus was decidedly not looking at.

"Just because you're always drooling after every red head you see doesn't suddenly mean everyone likes the same type of girl. Besides, girls aren't just separated into types like that, they're not movie genres." Remus felt good about this answer. It was smart, like everything else Sirius said. 

"Okay fine! Then just tell me who you like—" 

"Jesus Christ James we've been over this! I don't like anyone, this isn't middle school!"

"Fuck off, I don't believe you at all! You're always so defensive about it whenever I ask, there's gotta be someone here that you like. There's like a million girls at this school—" "Not true." "—there has to be one that you at least think is hot. Just tell me, and I'll drop it." 

Sirius sighed in response and pinched the bridge of her nose with her long fingers, which again, Remus wasn't looking at. She was, however, listening very carefully for Sirius's answer while badly pretending to complete the assignment that had been given to them fifteen minutes ago. She'd answered two out of twenty-five questions so far. 

"If I tell you, you can't make it a whole thing okay?" "I can't promise that at all, but I won't ask again for the rest of the day!"

Sirius squinted at him for a moment before responding, "Deal." 

She sat forward, smacking the chair fully back to all-fours before leaning her elbows on the edge of the desk. She looked around the small classroom, and Remus couldn't help but follow her gaze—what was she looking for? Was there some kind of secret... thing? Some secret power that slowed her gaze long enough to be noticed? Remus wanted it, whatever it was.

Finally, Sirius leaned forward even more, until her voice could be heard quietly as she declared: "Emma Pierce is pretty hot." 

Emma. Emma Pierce. 

Varsity Cheerleader with the long, smooth blonde hair and beautiful curves that Remus has heard Pete grossly wax poetic about on many occasions. 

That Emma Pierce.

James let out a long whistle and clapped Sirius on the back—Remus noticed the pale-pink tint developing on her lovely cheeks and it made her stomach lurch.

"Damn Sirius. I was right, you would go for the hottest girl in school—" "Lily, James?" "—excluding my beautiful Lily of course. Nice! you should make a move, see where it leads!"

Sirius let out a short, loud laugh and shoved James away roughly. "I'm not going for anyone, dipshit. I just think she's pretty, she's got that long hair and... yeah I'm not talking about this anymore, actually!" She stood up as the bell rang and began collecting her things. "Someone wake up Pete, I think he drooled on his assignment." 

Remus sat, stunned, and thought about her own frizzy brown hair. The color of dirt. 

It at least used to be long, down to her waist even, but Remus had decided to chop it all off as a show of solidarity with Sirius this year. Her mom had cried when she cut it. She'd wanted it to look edgy and cool, kind of like the short, mullet-y style hair Sirius sported now, but it looked more like she was the young mom of a two year old with a baby on the way. The frizzy curls now just touched under her jawline, and when Sirius had first seen it, she had ruffled the curls aggressively with a beaming smile. It was amazing.

"Moons, you alright?" Sirius broke her out of her reverie, and was looking at her with wide, concerned steel-grey eyes. 

Her eyelashes are so long. 

"Yeah... m'fine Pads." 

Oh my god, I'm so fucked.

[imthepunchlord]

Just wondering, how do you feel about Marinette keeping Gabriel's identity a secret from Adrien in the S5 finale of Miraculous?

Be mindful, I didn't watch it, so I'm answering with limited details that's just based around what I've gathered from hearing and seeing from the fandom.

And I will give it, I do think that is something Marinette would do. She is someone who has a history of doing things for others for their own happiness, like her cheating to help Nino in Anansi, or her stealing Alya's phone to rerecord a video she accidentally deleted a video recording of Ladybug.

I can see her thinking that she shouldn't tell Adrien this, that this would upset him. She's paid attention to him for 5 whole seasons, she knows how much he loves his dad. So the choice I feel is in character.

But I do hate that she's even in that position at all.

I hate that Adrien's in a position of never being involved in his own plot.

Seriously, what's the point of him being the son of Hawk Moth if he's never going to be in conflict with his dad? If he's never going to find out? We got all that built up angst and no pay off. It feels like we had our time wasted with Adrien being the son of HM. They did nothing with it.

And it's bonkers as you can do something with it.

You got your angst options:

Adrien is going to fully commit to being a hero he was chosen to be and him and his father will be enemies

Gabriel reveals to him what he's trying to do, and Adrien now has a chance to have his mom back, and he joins his father

You got your hopeful Agreste family option: take the route that the movie did, Gabriel realized his son is Chat Noir and he's like, oh no, I can't hurt my own son. And so he stops. Technically happy ending but they're going to need some family therapy.

And you got your comedic route, playing off that HM is meant to be a campy villain instead of a serious one: Adrien finds out, and he just doesn't know what to do, so he doesn't do anything but try to appeal to his father's goodness, just as Gabriel is trying to appeal to Adrien to join him. But neither of them get anywhere, and it delves into them getting passive aggressive with each other, especially as for once, Adrien has some power in this household as he can out his dad's the villain. Adrien drops little hints about his dad not being so great or toes the line of making the Agrestes look bad, and Gabriel starts sending akumas out during major tests or when Adrien has plans to hang out with friends. And they just proceed to annoy each other until it escalates outside family.

And look. That's four options on what they could've done with Adrien finding out his dad is HM. Mindful, some of these do mean they needed to pick a lane with Gabriel, on what sort of villain he is, does he love his son or not; but defining Gabriel as a character would've been better for the show.

[starzzmissthesun]

@lycoryspreachin here's my punish ideas to do with lily, Regulus, barty, and rabastan. They're kind of similar because of the concept, but the way it kind of affects their characters and interactions and within their stories is different.

Lily has always felt this shame. She feels as if her body does not belong to her, she belongs to her body. She is something inside of it, unattached. She knows that no one else is so detached from their physical self. She came out wrong. She hides in her body and she is ashamed of it. She feels as if taking control of her body is something she shouldn't be doing, but some kind of higher power. Even knowing this, lily gave in and had a child that she wanted so bad. She loves her baby and she loves James. But she knows she is poisoning her baby with her body. It's infecting him. That prophecy, and the betrayal, and Voldemorts attack is a sign from the universe saying "you won't forget this" for letting her body poison and pervert and twist her loved ones from their beautiful selves. Harry is cursed, James is ruthlessly murdered, sirius has been taken over with the need for revenge, Remus is left a shell of the man he was without his people, and Peter was turned into a killer over this poisoned child.She has always been this way, this was meant to happen. Her sister was the only other one to see this, and she escaped Lily's poison. Petunia heard Lily's crys and disgust with herself their whole life. They stopped talking as soon as lily moved out after school, and the last time they saw each other was right when lily found out she was pregnant, before the prophecy. All she could say was that she was going to be punished for this. Lily believed her first punishment was her magic, she loved her sister so much and it was taken from her, this magic showed her just how they were different and that she had something wrong with her. She knows that when she was being created, when she was just a soul, she was beautiful and an angel. But this body trapped her. And everything she loved came back to get her.

Regulus is selfish. He knows this. He hates it. But he can't stop, hell take and take and take until everything he wants is his. Even if it's something bad he will take it and love it and control it. He was never meant to do this. He shouldn't take. He was taught by his mother and everyone in their family that it was his job, being born a woman, to give and take care of things, not control them. Is this still not his role, his job? To serve? He figures maybe he can still do this in a way, in a selfish and perverted way. Perverted in the way of twisting it, in making something once innocent wrong. Instead of loving normally, he must love in a way that has motives behind it, it is impure. He must ask himself if it really is love because of how far from it it seems. His love comes with strings around those people and attached to his fingertips. And for this, for taking something that should be God's right into his own hands, he will be punished by his love. This love that tears him apart and rips him to shreds. With an uncontrollable want and obsession. Everything he does is out of selfishness and greed, it is perverted and disgusting, the way he loves. There is something wrong with him. And he will not do anything about it, he will lay down in the bed he made to continue doing it. And he was not always like this, he was a child so innocent and gullible, but now he himself has been twisted and moulded to be this person who knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. He will make himself seem like he is still that innocent and gullible child, but he is not. He is the one pulling the strings. He looks at himself with disgust, he will mar himself and destroy himself, but he will always give in to want. He wants to cut himself open to see what he is made of. And fate is coming quick, he wants so bad to get back at Voldemort for perverting their group, for taking their 'pure' beliefs and their ideas and doing something against nature, that Regulus will let that same nature pull him down and bury him just to get back at his idol for twisting something he loved. He is full of nothing but shame over the way he takes.

Barty has always loved wrong. If it even was that. It's his curse. Everyone around him loves him so much, and he cannot reciprocate for almost all of them. He is punished by this. Because he wants it. The closest thing he thinks he's felt to love is just his obsession. His obsession with his father, the dilemma of if he wants to be just like him or anything but. His mother, she holds him so so close and he will too, because it is all he has. But she cannot fill whatever hole he has. The most and closest he can get to love is Regulus. Who 'loves' in the same way. Who will take the 'love' barty gives him. He will use Regulus to get want he wants, because Regulus lets him do so. Hell give and Regulus will take. They love each other in a messed up, perverted way. In a way that shouldn't even be considered love, but it is for them. It's twisted really, the way Regulus has him and the way barty uses reg. But they want it, for the first time and only time, this is where they will feel like they are not wrong, just different. They can't see anything wrong with their 'love' when it's just them. And when Regulus is taken from him, regulus' love acts as a punishment for Barty's nature, for thinking it might be okay that he's like this. Barty now lets it all go, he will take and use and destroy anything and anyone. He will make it ruined and disgusting. He will use his mother's love for him to get where he wants. He will use his fathers position to go over everyone's head. He will then lose autonomy. His father can't just kill him, so he must control barty. Another punishment. He is ashamed, he feels diminished, like an animal. He is locked up in a room of that shame. He needs to be hidden, for he is unnatural. And when he finally gets back that control over himself, he is taking it from the God that was his father. He finally gets to do what he wants, but he can't help but feel disgusted with it.

Rabastan has always been able to do whatever he wanted, his brother let him. That was how he showed his love. And that love allowed him to create and ruin and pervert anything he wanted. Including Regulus. Rabastan twisted and shaped and moulded him into someone so calculating, on such a higher level than even rabastan that reg is the one in control. Rab can't even see when he does it anymore, he used to be able to, but now it's truly indistinguishable. The way his brother loves, and he loves and Regulus 'loves' has come back to punish him with the sin and shame over what he feels for Regulus. It is disgusting and wrong, and yet it has still happened. He was still allowed to give into this. Yet he is being poisoned by it, he will face the repercussions. He took something so innocent and poisoned him. He makes everyone surrounding this a participant. He will lock Regulus and him into their house, into their fake marriage and failed family, into their lives that are the 'dream', to hide this sin from everyone. But they all already know. His love for Regulus has now punished him, he is being fed off of. He is decaying. And Regulus is the one biting. Nature will come full circle, he has taken from Regulus and now Regulus will take from him. Their love is rotting them, chewing on them. And they cant change or stop it. No one can. Even you, the observer, are apart of this. It's happening to everybody.

[lightsiided]

     "if that's selfish, then i must be, too," rey returns firmly, holding thor's gaze. "my fears have been your responsibility. my complaints. my distress. you have taken it upon yourself to comfort me; does it make me selfish for enjoying it?" she shakes her head. "no. and you should know that as your wife, i wish to bring you the same comfort. no matter what is going on. no matter how i might be feeling. we're married, and i always want to know what you're thinking. i NEED to know, so we can... so you and i can work through it together." though it's the least of their problems, now, rey can't help but feel nervous when she thinks of thor hiding the way he feels. it was what had driven such a wedge between them after thanos. it was what had led her to exegol alone.

it had been hard to overcome. she doesn't want to do it again.

a hand lifts to thor's cheek to stroke his skin. rey wishes with all she has that she might promise him nothing will happen to her. that no matter how dark these next few days get, it won't affect her. if only it were possible to grant that wish. the truth is, neither of them know precisely what will happen. they are navigating this together, blindly, and hoping what they can do will be ENOUGH.

but she has to believe he is right; that their love is enough to defeat even the worst evils. it was love that defeated darth vader, after all. love that took luke and leia through their final moments. love that gave her the strength to return to thor after the battle of exegol. why shouldn't it be enough this time around? "yes," rey sighs, her voice a whisper in the dark. thor is so close she can hear each of his breaths. "we will fight. and we will win. and i will NEVER forget how unendingly you love me."

just as her throat tightens again, her eyes starting to shine, thor leans in for a kiss. rey meets him with equal fervor, a sense of desperation in each clack of their teeth and angle of their heads. her hands grip his arms, his shirt, as if she is reminding her body to remember what thor has said. she will hold onto their light, their love. she will hold onto who she is and all the things thor loves about her. all the best parts of herself, everything she already sees reflected back in leia. she must never let go. no matter how loud her thoughts get, she cannot FORGET. silently, she swears herself to him -- not for the first time. with all she has, she promises thor she will hold on.

struggling to catch her breath, rey eventually opens her eyes and chances a smile. it is thin, but there, and when her hands slide over his arms her caress is more gentle. "i can't believe you're the one thanking me," she replies. "nothing i could say would EVER convey how much your support means to me. i don't know what i would do without you." the uncomfortable truth is that her life would have ended long ago. "your wisdom is more valuable than you know. you keep me sane. you remind me of all the good in our lives."

her mind nudges his, a wave of endless affection washing over them both. thor is a husband more perfect than any she could have ever imagined. he always knows just what to say to make her feel better. "there will never be a lovelier husband or father," rey murmurs, leaning in to gently kiss him one more time. "thank you for always LISTENING to me. for refusing to judge even my darkest thoughts. for remaining an endless well of positivity and all that is good and kind. you mean so much to me, thor. i love you more dearly than anything else in the universe. it is because i have you that i am able to remain hopeful at all."

“how could i possibly?”  at her urging, his eyes remain trained on hers.  there is no shying away nor averting his gaze to lessen the sting of the words as they tighten his throat.  all at once, he knows he never must hide how he feels from her — but in times of distress, he doesn’t want to burden her.  “how could i be so selfish as to make my fears your responsibility?  these last few weeks have been hard enough on you… i hadn’t wanted to add to it.”

“and—“ after a sharp inhale, a bit of shame laced in the pained tone of his voice, “—i hadn’t realized until now that… perhaps i have not approached this as calmly as i would like to believe.”  the threat of the war itself doesn’t particularly frighten him, nor does the return of so many enemies.  how it will affect their friends, his family, his innocent daughter who is wonderfully oblivious to the brewing turmoil, is what has truly left him angry.  the prospect of what another round of the dark trying to reclaim the galaxy as its own will do to his wife is what terrifies him.

of course.  the harm he faces, he meets with his head held high.  but he shatters before the possibility of her being hurt, either of them.

“i know.”

though, if he is honest with himself, thor’s problems lie within the feeling that it is never enough.  despite the fact that they have spent years and years, now, proving to one another the lengths they are willing to go to protect what they’ve found.  thor could always do more; rey defied the fates themselves so that they could make it to this very moment.  he could always do more.  and he will never stop striving for it.  but he forces himself to not only hear her, but accept that she speaks the truth.  he has done a lot for her, just as she has gone to immeasurable heights for him.  they are deserving of each other.  they love each other as no one else possibly could.

“hold onto that.  hold onto all you cherish.  whatever forces may dare work against you… they don’t stand a chance against all we’ve made together.  love is the most powerful thing in all the universe.  we are going to be angry… we are going to grow frustrated, and we may very well have to fight.”

by now, thor has inched forward enough that no space remains between them.  he savors the touch of her hand to his face, the squeeze of her fingers around his shirt.  the tip of his nose presses to her cheek.  rey is his home; this is where he belongs.  whatever had forged their souls and decidedly separated them… his half will never stop trying to return to hers.  

“but holding onto our light and our love is how we will win.  it is how we’ve always won.  and i love you — i love you more than life itself.  above all, when it becomes loud, and seemingly too oppressive to bear, remember that.  hold onto that.”

and then he’s kissing her.  far from elegant and hardly gentle, it’s all emotion; raw and passionate and pure.  thor’s grip on her couldn’t be any tighter without bruising her skin.  finally releasing all that which has built within him for weeks and pouring it into her leaves his heart pounding.  a hum of relief sounds in his throat, and only then does he allow his eyes to close.  one tear rolls down his cheek, vanishing between the sliding of their mouths.

a weight he hadn’t known was pulling him down lifts, tension leaving his back and shoulders.  when will he learn, that she is the answer to all the ails him?  it’s what she’s here for.  for him to confide in, to trust, to fall to pieces with when he cannot do so with anyone else.  rey doesn’t believe his feelings to be a burden, he knows that — he would never consider hers such.  yet, still, he tries to shield her from it until it can be held back no longer.

a sigh passes between them, and he manages to tear himself off of her.  it’s another few moments before he opens his eyes, the only other sound coming from him being that of his heavy breaths.  “thank you,” thor whispers, having yet to relinquish his hold on her.  “for talking to me.  for your honesty.  being open, allowing ourselves to… rely on one another… as i said, holding steadily to our love is how we will persevere.”

[ofhollowhearts]

You should trust her.

[kiwiplaetzchen]

"We do so adore restricted areas, don't we?"

"We shouldn't go in there. Which is exactly why we should. Now take heed. There's a chance we could get caught."

[theriverbeyond]

This is actually one of my favorite parts of HtN, because in context of everything we the readers know, of course you would fight for Gideon. This is a book where magic is real! Love Conquers All! But the thing is.... Magnus' advice is normal, in the context of Gideon is dead. She died. She is 100% no longer alive and Harrow does not want her to be dead and she is dealing with it Badly.

To me, a core aspect of HtN is that it is a wish fulfillment story about grief. Therefore it is thematically important that the people telling Harrow to "move on" are NOT just people who are using her, like John/Ianthe/etc. Magnus cares about Harrow, on a very genuine level, and he tells her what anyone who cares about you tells you when someone you love dies and you want to set the world on fire: she loved you, she is dead, you shouldn't let yourself die with her. You can live for her.

And like, no one wants to hear that. It's good advice!! It is kind. It is loving. But when someone you love is dead, you don't want kind and loving advice. You want your person to be alive. You want the kind and loving person to shut up. And in this situation, Harrow DOES says no, I won't accept that, and she's *rewarded* for it, a thing that never happens in the real world if someone dies and you refuse to accept it. But Harrow is rewarded. Gideon's soul is saved. Wish fulfilled.

I'm still hung up on Magnus, earnestly telling an 18-year-old that she needs to give up her one friend and love because sometimes you strike out.

WHILE HE'S WITH HIS WIFE THAT HE GOT TO MARRY AND BE WITH FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS!!!

B. R. U. H. Incapable of reading the room... er, bubble in the river.

[sage-nebula]

I loved the new IDW Sonic issue! Too bad I know without looking that people are going to be stupid and awful about Lanolin 🫠

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

I think I might get into the thriller/mystery genre. I've always been a huge fantasy fan, but I've recently run into three problems.

I used to read fantasy books where Sapphic (I'd say 'lesbian' but let's be so fr) romance was the focal point/end game. However, they are often so damn disappointing and I'm honestly really tired of feeling that way. I love lesbian books but they're either actually bi books or like. Memoirs. Or, worse, depressing/don't end how I'd like.

I can't take straight romance seriously at all so that's a no go.

Fantasy without romance often doesn't catch my eye. I'm not saying I wouldn't enjoy such a book, but just that none have really jumped out to me as a must read.

It's been a while since I read anything, and I miss it quite a bit but I don't feel like the "well-written fantastical lesbian romance" genre is a long list (believe me, I looked) and straight romances are corny. I'd be willing to read a no-romance fantasy book but ones that suit me are so hard to find.

All that to say that I think I might like the mystery/thriller genre? I'm actually currently making my way through "the girl on the train" audiobook and I like it a fair amount. This may be the right direction to go in to get back into reading.